#a is a very soft letter and so is m

[chuluoyi]

✎ the babysitters' club

- gojo satoru x reader

in which yuji, megumi and nobara are tasked with the most important mission ever by their teacher—watching over his baby son!

genre: total crack, first years are trying their best to babysit your son to save their grades, an attempt at humor, gojo is irritating as always, fluff, fluff, fluff

note: this is sooo incredibly silly :') some inspiration are taken from the baby starfish onesie, this ask, and this illustration -> if you're wondering how gojo dressed his baby, he's looks just like that :)) tagging @3zae-zae3 <3

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"Gojo-sensei... what is that wiggling starfish!?"

On one sunny day in jujutsu school... trouble is once again brewing in the form of Gojo Satoru bringing his baby son to the class.

"Starfish? No, no," Gojo retorted with a displeased expression, directing his gaze towards Yuji and clicking his tongue as he patted his squirming baby, which was still hidden from their view. "He's my pride and joy! Don't refer to him as starfish!"

"But you've got him dressed up as one..." Nobara pointed out, her tone flat and unimpressed.

"That's his kid," Megumi provided, wearily sighing. God, he knew already today was going to be a long day.

No one from school had seen your seven-month old baby son yet, and Gojo was determined to make it an occasion to remember.

Beaming with pride, he gently removed his baby from the starfish-themed onesie, revealing him in a tiny black jujutsu outfit specially tailored for him, complete with miniature black glasses. He held him up, presenting him for everyone to see.

"Behold, everyone... my son! Isn't he just adorable?!"

. . . a momentary silence before—

"Oh my goodness, he is!" Nobara cooed, forgetting her earlier sentiment, immediately approaching the baby with shining eyes. "Sensei, how could you manage to have a baby this cute!?"

"Heh! Only the finest technique utilized to create him—"

"Complete bullshit—"

"Hush, Megumi! No cussing in front of my baby! I'll deduct your marks!"

"Seriously...?"

"Now, class, today I have a very, very important task for you..." Gojo said, his voice dripping with mischief as he sported a broad grin. "If you succeed, I'll personally draft a recommendation letter for each of you to Yaga. But if you don't..." he paused for the suspense, scanning his three students' curious faces.

"Then I'm failing you in my class!" Gojo continued with a grin, prompting immediate reactions from his students.

“What! Why?!”

“That's not fair!”

“Sigh.”

“All you have to do was to watch over him until I come back. Everything you need is here— in this bag!”

Megumi rolled his eyes. Nobara raised an eyebrow. Only Yuji who seemed to be genuinely interested.

"Isn't that easy?" Gojo tilted his head playfully, looking absolutely stupid with his blindfold. "There are three of you here. If you can't even manage to look after one baby, then you should not even think about romance and dating."

"Nonsen—"

"Quiet, Megumi!"

And so began the day's mission: looking after Baby Gojo until his father's return.

“Lalala~ look you’re flying!”

“Fwa...”

“Kugisaki, don’t hold him like that! You’re making him cry!”

“No, I’m not— Itadori! Don’t smush his face—!”

“WAAA!”

“You idiot!” Megumi hissed, plucking the poor baby from his clueless friends and immediately soothed him, pulling him close and patting his back. He even gently shushed him, “There, there...”

And Yuji and Nobara could only look at him in awe as the baby's wails turned into soft sniffles, peaceful in his embrace.

"Whoa... Fushiguro, so babies like you, huh..."

"Unfair!" Nobara clicked his tongue, before fixing a wide smile and waved at the baby in Megumi's arms. "Hi baby~ don't you want to held by big sister—"

"He doesn't like you, Kugisaki."

And so, that was how the three of them spent half the day—constantly watching over Baby Gojo, with Megumi supervising both the baby and his two friends.

"Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in him..." Megumi grumbled sullenly, resigned to his fate, his gaze fixed on the crawling baby while he sat on the floor and threw his little sunglasses.

For all the sighs he exuded, Megumi undeniably had a soft spot for the baby. Prior today, he had held him several times, and he'd never admit it, but he'd protect him to the best of his ability, if anything, because you had done so much for him.

“Gojo-sensei is cool!” Yuji remarked. “Of course Y/N-sensei is happy with him.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Only you would say that.”

"Hey, don't you think he wants his milk?" Yuji suddenly pointed out, as the baby became fussy. Megumi nodded and Yuji immediately reached for the bag Gojo left. He pulled out a bottle and handed it to his friend, but in the process, he accidentally knocked the bag over, spilling its contents onto the floor.

"Ahh, my bad," the boy sighed, collecting the diapers and washcloth, until he realized that there were some more—

"What's that? Photographs?" Nobara picked one of them up, and immediately gasped. "Oh my! Look at this!"

On the picture was the same baby, but much more smaller and swaddled in baby blue blanket and tiny blue beanie. Most likely taken when he was a newborn.

"Whoa, wait, there's something written behind the photo..."

When she flipped it over, both she and Yuji studied the messy handwriting, instantly recognizing it as their teacher's.

Yaaay! ♡ Baby is here! I'm sooo happy you made it! But mama went through a lot to bring you here... so don't ever forget that she loves you very, very much, okay?

"This is sweet." Nobara looked at the picture with a genuine smile, until she realized that there were some more scattered on the floor.

The other picture was of the blue-eyed baby on his arms and knees, wrapped in an orange and black bee onesie, complete with little wings, and behind it was written:

Aren't you just the cutest bee?! And what's more, you've started crawling! Aw, papa is so proud! In no time at all, you're going to be as strong as me!

"What are you two doing over there?" Megumi asked, still feeding the baby with the milk bottle. Nobara beckoned him over.

The third photo was of you smiling so prettily while holding your baby, still in his bee suit, and Gojo also in the frame, wrapping his arm around you, clearly the one holding the camera to take the selfie.

Two my most precious treasures ♡ Sweetheart, I love you. And baby too!

Yuji smiled, as he felt warmth spreading in his chest. "Gojo-sensei really treasures his family, huh?"

"He is," Megumi agreed, because he had seen it all throughout his life.

"Well, no wonder..." Nobara giggled. "Any woman showered with this much love would be happy."

And that day, the trio also uncovered another side of their teacher, that his deepest affection was reserved exclusively for his wife and child.

Well, the sentimental feeling didn't last long though...

"This is our chance!" Nobara said in a hushed whisper. "When else are we going to get an extra family discount!?"

Megumi was so ready to burst a blood vessel as he held the baby—given that he had forbidden his two friends to lay a finger on him. "We are meeting Gojo-sensei here, not to—!"

"Hush! Itadori, don't you agree with me?!"

Yuji nudged his cross friend, trying to appease him. "Lighten up, Fushiguro! We can have more meat!"

At the last minute, Gojo suddenly told the three of them to bring his baby and meet him at the shopping center as he didn't want to waste energy to go back to the school. And like broke students Nobara and Yuji were, they decided to use Baby Gojo to snag an extra plate in a yakiniku place.

Megumi's eyes twitched. "This is not making sense at all, they won't believe—!"

"Shut up, you! Waiter~ here! We have a baby! So we're eligible for the family package!"

The judging stare of the waiter was enough to make Megumi combust on the spot, and yet somehow he passed the four of them as family eligible for the extra plate.

It was later, after they had their lunch that Megumi suddenly had an upset stomach and left the baby momentarily in his two friends' care.

And under less-than-watchful eyes...

"Hey, Kugisaki, meat on this side is the juiciest! Try it!"

"Ooh, you're right!"

The baby only blinked at them in wonder as he stayed in his spot. Not for long though... and it didn't help that they forgot his existence after they went to the cashier and headed out.

"Oi, Itadori! Don't forget to split the bill!"

"Oh yeah! Anyway, why is Fushiguro taking so long?"

Megumi got back right afterwards, and he frowned. "You done already? I haven't even gotten my ocha refill—" and it dawned to him when he saw both Yuji and Nobara with empty hands.

"Wait... where's the baby?"

"—! Oh my god!"

And when the three of them rushed back to the yakiniku place and approached their table earlier, Nobara almost screamed at the empty chairs, "He is gone!"

"You left the baby with the kids and told them to come here?!"

You were positively fuming as you scolded your stupid husband in the bustling mall.

"Well, we haven't gotten much time to spend together, just the two of us!" Satoru retorted, his tone sulky as he pouted. "And besides, Megumi is there. I'm sure they'll do just fine~"

You let out a sigh. True enough, being parents is no joke. Aside from stay-at-home dates, the frequency of the two of you going out had dwindled exponentially since having your baby.

"Technically, you are still on the clock though." You threw him a glare. "You're being a very irresponsible teacher."

Satoru smirked. "Heh, spare me. But I'm being a very good teacher to you in our—"

"One more word and I'm locking you out—!"

Just as you were about to give him your (empty) threat, the building suddenly boomed with an announcement from the mall's broadcast speaker.

"Attention, shoppers. We've received a report from three teenagers that they've lost a baby. He is seven-month old, wears black shirt, has white hair and blue eyes. He is last seen at Yakiniku Q—"

"Satoru..." your voice trembled, dread settling in the pit of your stomach. The baby described by the speaker was unmistakably your son, and the realization of him being missing sent you spiraling into panic.

"Hey, calm down." Satoru gripped your hand tightly, his voice steady as he faced you. "We're going to find him, alright? I'm here. Don't worry."

And after taking off his glasses, in a matter of seconds, Satoru figured out where he was.

Nobara's eyes welled up with tears, frustrated. "What do I do, Gojo-sensei will fail us now..." she muttered, biting her lip.

"That's what you're worried about?" Megumi replied, turning to her with a clear glare.

"He's going to be fine! He is!" Yuji interjected, trying to reassure his two friends despite his own rising anxiety. "He’s not just any random baby—who knows, maybe he can shoot cursed energy to protect himself!"

Megumi and Nobara leveled their annoyed stares on him and Yuji immediately regretted his attempt to lighten the mood.

"I still think he can't get far from the yakiniku place." Megumi was too panicked to check with the staff earlier and just went with Yuji's suggestion to report it to be announced, but now that he thought about it— "I think we should go back."

And thank goodness the three of them returned for the second time because, this time, they finally saw the baby safely cradled in your arms, with Gojo speaking to the waitresses nearby.

"Oh?! Gojo-sensei is here!"

But as soon as the three of them came into view, Gojo immediately fixed them with his unamused gaze.

"You three..." his voice was lower and it made the three kids shudder. "What did I tell you about failing this mission, huh?"

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi were visibly spooked, immediately bowing their heads in unison as they chorused—

"Gojo-sensei, we're so sorry!"

Nobara then pointed an accusing finger at Yuji. "But it was his fault! He kept eating away and didn't even oversee the baby anymore!"

"Wha!?" Yuji glared back at her. "No! You too! You kept eating my meat too!"

"Whatever it is, I'm not a part of this—" Megumi cut in boldly. "My stomach hurt so I had to go for a bit, and they couldn't even keep an eye on him—"

You soothed your squirming son as the first years were throwing blame at each other. Gaping in confusion, you couldn't help but wonder how such a simple task had turned into this incident.

"Tsk." Gojo crossed his arms dramatically, and you knew he was just messing with them, as he suddenly turned to you with a grin.

"Nah, as both a teacher and the victim's mother— Sensei~ who do you think is responsible for this? Or should I punish all three of them?"

The three kids before you were quaking in their boots, and you really didn't have time for this right now. Honestly, if if you had to quickly pinpoint the source of this chaos...

You directed your most irked glare at your husband. "You."

“Huh?!”

“You’re the one staging this by threatening their grades, and it results in our baby being missing!”

Now you were bickering with your husband and putting him in his rightful place. Nobara and Yuji gaped, while Megumi heaved a sigh of relief.

"Does this mean... our grades are saved?"

Epilogue

"They said he fell..." You pat your baby's head worriedly as he babbled happily in his crib, your expression darkening into a frown.

You didn't really blame the first years for their lack of experience, but as his mother, the news from the restaurant staff that they had found your son falling from the chair made you extremely uneasy.

Seeing your distress, Satoru’s natural response was to comfort you until you were back to smiles again. He gently tickled his boy's tummy, prompting him to squeal in absolute joy. "Look, he's perfectly fine. You don't need to worry so much, yeah?"

"But it's strange... I'm happy he's fine, but how? Most babies will get hurt or at least be inconsolable after falling. But he was totally okay..."

Satoru shifted his gaze to his son, as now his round, crystal blue eyes that mirrored his blinked back at him with such innocence and trust that even melted his heart.

"Ah, I see." Suddenly he smiled as if he had figured something out. "This is just my guess, but you know my guesses have like... 90% of probability of being correct—"

"Hmm...?"

"He might have activated Infinity by instinct. Heh."

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[bi-writes]

bestfriend!rooommate!simon finds out you've been lying.

more bff!roommate!simon (part 8/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, mean!simon (verbally), size kink (simon can move the reader easily, described as much bigger), praise kink, the mask doesn't come off, oral (m!receiving), fem!receiving touching, cumplay, soft!dom!simon, reader uses simon to get herself off (because there is no universe in which simon doesn't return his girl's favor), pet names (including pet and kitty)

you lied.

if simon had his gloves off, his knuckles would be stark white from how hard he was gripping the mail in his hands.

neither of you had checked your mailbox in a while--simon had only returned a few days ago from the harsh winter of northern russia after weeks away, and you seemingly had been busy with work. so busy, simon noticed very quickly, that you spent morning to late at night in your red and white uniform, coming home in the dead of night just to crash and do it all again the next morning.

now he held all the letters in his hand. stacks of them, with angry red stamps bleeding into the white of the envelopes.

NOTICE

WARNING

PAST DUE

LAST NOTICE

he stopped breathing for a moment. he spread the letters out on the table, flipping through each of them. he didn't open them, of course but these were all your bills. cell phone, last month's half of the rent, credit cards, your name written on the back and ugly red warnings pasted over it.

simon had spoken to you while he was gone. he had called you once, twice at least, and all he remembered was your soft voice telling him you missed him, to be careful, that you screwed up a new cookie recipe that you promised you would perfect before he got home.

you hadn't said a thing. your voice had been even and gentle as always. your voice had been comforting, saying only encouraging words. if simon was honest, your voice put him at ease; you always told him something to calm him, something to uplift him.

"i'm so proud of you, simon."

"i hate that you're gone, but there's no one else that could do what you do."

"um...hah...love you. be careful."

you hadn't said a word. your voice didn't reveal an ounce of the stress and the weight that must've been hanging over your head. there was no falter in your words, no strain as you spoke. just pretty, perfect, beautiful you, easing simon's demons while you battled some of your own.

simon crumpled one of the envelopes in his hands. it was thick with papers, but he still forced it into a ball, tossing it back onto the table angrily. he gripped the edge of the table, white knuckling it until he heard the key in the lock.

it was quiet as you came inside. you shut the door and locked it behind you, setting down your bag and taking off your jacket. it was morning; you had worked the night shift. your eyes were drawn low, tired and a dull. you said nothing as you toed off your shoes, letting your sneakers settle under the table. it was then that you noticed simon just sitting there, still, with his hands folded in front of him.

and all of your bills scattered around him.

you sucked in a shaky breath, looking up into his eyes. they were trained low, on the letters surrounding him, but he glared, boring a whole through them. he didn't know where to focus his anger; you were precious, you could do no wrong, you were soft and warm and his, and it wasn't your fault that everything was so expensive, that you were struggling.

but it was your fault that you hadn't said a thing--that you hadn't asked for help.

"simon, i...i-i can explain."

"no. y'r not gonna talk, luv." you had never heard his voice this way. so low and gravelly, an eerie lilt to it that reeked of disappointment and somehow betrayal. "y'r gonna sit down. now."

simon roughly pulled the chair from beside him out, an unspoken command for you to take a seat. your bottom lip trembled as you slumped into the chair, watery eyes avoiding his.

"how long?"

"simon--"

you jumped as he slammed a hand down on the table. the entirety of it shook, the papers ruffling and the dishes clattering loudly.

"a few months! a-a few months, just--"

"no!" simon snapped. "y'lied to me. y'lied to me! i asked! how many times have i asked?! how many times have i looked you in the fuckin' eye and asked you if everythin' was in order, how many fuckin' times?!"

you couldn't keep it in. the tears were hot, running down your cheeks and putting salt on your lips and a dryness in your throat. you were embarrassed. embarrassed that you needed help, ashamed that you were being scolded like a child, afraid of his loud voice and his terrible anger and the way he looked at you. when you decided to live together, you weren't meant to be his burden. you didn't intend to be his problem.

"i-i'm sorry, simon--i'm sorry..." you met his eyes. "i'm taking extra shifts. i-i'm gonna pay the bills, i-i'm gonna make it right, i-i swear--"

"is that what you think this is?"

he narrowed his eyes at you, two dark slits, and then as if a switch flipped, it was gone. his face softened, his eyes widening, and the tension seemed to dissipate just enough to let you breathe a little easier. you couldn't decipher this change, and you couldn't read what was in his eyes, not this time. all you could was sit there and try not to let your cries make any sound.

"do y'think i'm angry because y'didn't pay? is that what y'think?"

you shook your head, shrugging, not understanding his question.

"what...what other reason is there, s-simon?" you hiccuped. "i screwed..." more tears, they wouldn't stop falling, "i-i screwed up, simon, i-i'm so sorry, i-i--"

you jumped when his chair screeched against the floor. he stood up fast, taking a step to round the table to crouch beside your chair. he looked up at you, making himself smaller, and you looked down.

"simon, i'm sorry--"

"stop! stop fuckin' apologizing, fuck," simon interrupted you. his voice was gentle, trying not to scare you, and you closed your mouth, taking in deep, shaking breaths to try and center yourself. "'m angry because you didn't talk to me, luv--" your face fell when he reached up, two gloved hands cupping your puffy cheeks, "--why didn't you say anything? why didn't you tell me? why didn't you ask me for help?"

you sniffled, reaching up and caressing his wrists gently. you played with the edges of his gloves, your fingers skimming the hem of his sleeves and just barely teasing the bare skin under it.

"simon...how could i?" you asked, as if it was obvious. "after everything that's happened...after everything we've been through...h-how could i ask that of you?" "how could you not?" simon spit back, and when you tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on your cheeks. "no, no--look at me--" he rose up on his knees, pressing your forehead to his, "look at me."

your expression was pained, struggling to do as he asked, but eventually your eyes fluttered, meeting his own, and he grunted as he gripped the back of your neck and held you there.

nowhere to go. nowhere to run. no one else.

"y'r not my problem. not my burden," he muttered. "y'r m'responsibility. mine to take care of."

"i-i don't want you to have to do that--"

"what the fuck do y'think this is?" he breathed. "what we have, what this is, this is forever, has that not gotten through y'r bloody head?" you whimpered when he shook you a little, his hand in your hair as he pulled it tight. "y'r as good as mine. not up for discussion."

you swallowed hard as his hands came down, wiping the tears off your face. he brushed your hair back and away, so he could see you, and you smiled at him sadly, eyes glossy and bright.

"'m gonna take care of the flat from now on, yeah?" simon murmured. "'m gonna take care of everything."

your body visibly relaxed. your shoulders fell, your body sinking a little more into the chair, and there was something sweet in your eyes--something hopeful. simon's tone was definite, and there was no room for arguing. you nodded finally, leaning in slowly, pressing a delicate kiss to where his lips would be under the mask. his thumb swiped over your cheek, falling to trace the line of your jaw, and then you both closed your eyes at the same time.

there was an understanding here. it was as if simon was washing you clean--something refreshing and warm and gentle running down the length of you, rinsing whatever was hurting you right down some sort of sickening void that had gripped you so tightly. and he did it so easily--he did it without even blinking.

and it was easy. simon never hesitated with you. his money rotted in an account anyways--it sat and stared at him, reminding him of the kind of hell he had gone through just to get it. it reminded him of the half of him that was someone, the half of him that he hated, the half of his being that came from a wretched, horrid, terrifying thing that manifested itself somewhere in his blood.

simon was half of something foul, and maybe he couldn't make up for the part of him that he didn't think was human, but he could make up for this, make up for you, make up for whatever half of you had left you here. because that was what you deserved--you deserved to be taken care of, you deserved not to worry, you deserved to sleep in soft sheets and eat until your belly was full and smile so much that your cheeks ached, and if simon had to become someone else just to give it to you, if simon had to die and come back again, then that was exactly what he would do.

simon had died once already. simon had seen it--seen how empty and unfulfilling and quiet it had been. simon had seen another side, and you didn't belong there. you belonged somewhere warm. somewhere a little noisy, a little bright, familiar.

it hadn't always been this way. when simon first met you, it hadn't been a good day--simon wore bruises, and you wore blood, and it was in that instant moment of understanding that made it clear you would be bound forever.

something invisible threaded you together. and simon had pulled himself out of his early grave, and after he had done it, you were the only thing that remained. and he hated himself--he hated himself for thanking some unspoken thing, because his entire family was gone, but you weren't gone, you were still here, there was still sunlight in your eyes and laughter in your voice and you were still warm.

it should've tasted sour to be grateful for it. he wanted to hate himself for this feeling. he deserved to die again and not return, but then he wouldn't get to see you anymore, and the selfish part of him, the other half of him, would never give you up willingly.

this love was visceral. this love was going to kill him. he was going to die with you on his mind, but maybe that would be the only thing worth really dying for.

because there you are. big, pretty eyes gazing up at him--fuck, why does she look at me like that?

why does she look at me like i mean something?

why isn't she afraid?

why can't i push her away?

what the fuck is wrong with me?

his beautiful girl. his pretty little roommate. the woman with flowers for eyes and silk as skin and a mind filled with starlight. the sweetheart pushing him to sit, forcing him backwards, getting on her knees in between his legs. and then her hands were on his thighs, sliding up against the rough denim as she laid one side of her face against it, those petals in her eyes trained on the way that his pants seemed to get tighter with every drag of her delicate fingers up his thighs.

and then she was pushing up his hoodie, exposing the relaxed muscle of his stomach, and then she was kissing it. soft lips warming the solid middle of him, a knowing smile growing on her face as she felt him twitch and jump and grunt. and then those beautiful eyes were looking back up at him, her neck tilted back as she undid his jeans and nestled the hem of them just low enough for her to reach in and fuck--

you knew simon was beautiful everywhere. you knew that there was no part of him that wasn't perfect. you couldn't remember being particularly religious, but kneeling in front of him felt like devotion--and you had much to confess.

he was thick, heavy, a weight in your hand that had you drooling without so much as seeing him. you were looking at the red tip of him with eyes half-lidded, and it took everything in you not to take him all at once. but this was simon, this was your version of perfect, and you needed to show simon how much you felt because words were not enough.

words would never be enough.

you started slow. you dipped your head, your eyes flicking up to watch him as you caressed the base of him with a wet kiss. you squeezed your legs together when you noticed his dark eyes roll back into his head for a second, a pained, pleasured reaction, and then you did it again.

a soft lick, the edge of your tongue sliding over a protruding vein on the underside of his length, and you closed your own eyes for a moment to revel in the deep groan that simon uttered. you sighed deeply, keeping your thighs squeezed together to relieve the sudden ache between them, before flattening your tongue and guiding it up his length. simon cursed under his breath, his hands gripping his thighs tight--but one of his hands flew to the back of your head when your greedy little mouth sucked the tip of him into your mouth.

you moaned softly, tasting the edge of him, something so simon and pleasant. a little precum, warm, flowing onto your tongue. you whimpered when you felt his fingers tangle into your hair, gripping you for stability as you sucked him in.

"christ, luv--" just the sound of him so pleased was enough to have you dripping, "fuck--'s so good, 's perfect--"

she was so beautiful. she was perfect. of course she would be good at sucking him off, of course she would have the prettiest tongue and the warmest mouth, and of course she would have one hand wrapping around the base of him as the other slipped between her legs--

"fuck--y'r gettin' off on this, yeah?" he grunted, his eyes flashing with something dark. "'f course you are, such a good girl--"

good girl, good girl, i'm a good girl--

just as slow as it began, as quick as you became. one moment you were cool, composed, watching simon's eyes and listening to his voice as you tried to memorize what pleasure sounded like when it came from him, and the next moment you were sliding him further into your mouth, drool dripping down your jaw as precum spread across your teeth. he was so big--so much to take, but the strain in your jaw tomorrow would have to be a welcome side effect to making lieutenant simon riley cum down your throat.

so sloppy, what a mess you were making. simon's hand now cupped the side of your head, your hair in some makeshift updo as he guided you along his length. the sounds were filthy--soft, slobbering noises as you took simon just a little further down your throat, your tongue being careful to tease the slit of him, slipping between the fold of it to illicit the most gorgeous of moans out of him.

"fuckin' hell--the mouth of a fuckin' angel--"

"such a pretty girl...such a pretty sight...makin' such a mess, sweetheart..."

"y'like it, yeah? y'like it...y'r so pretty...s'pretty, luv, nnngh--th's it, just like that--"

and now you were bouncing pathetically onto your hand. you pressed your hand into the floor, trapping your thighs over it as you tried desperately to grind down on something as you sucked warmly on simon's length. just as you let out a frustrated whine, simon's boot knocked your hand out of the way, slipping the steel toe of it right there, right--oh!

you cried out as the tip of his boot pushed right up against your cunt. the perfect spot, right against your aching clit, because simon never missed--simon always hit his target, whether it was between the eyes of some muppet who had his gun aimed at johnny or exactly where to touch his girl to make her drool. and drool she did--with her mouth stuffed full of him, with her slick wetting her thighs, with that look in her eyes that could make any man lose his fucking mind.

and simon was losing it, he was crazy. he soothed the back of your neck, grunting and hissing and wetting the fabric of his mask with the way he spat and cursed for you. but how could he help himself? the most beautiful girl in the world was on her knees, looking at him like she was at the alter. confessing her sins, receiving her absolution, taking every bit of it like the good girl she was, is.

he was so pretty. he tasted so good. you could only see his eyes, but it was more than enough, you didn't need anything more. the way he scrunched them open and shut, the low drawl of his voice as he said your name--he was perfect. his cock filled your mouth so nicely; he was using you, but you didn't feel used.

you wanted this. you wanted him. you wanted him to put you between his legs, wanted him to finally feel something other than that sick, twisted ache in his bones.

you lifted your hand, the one that had been buried between your thighs, and you cupped the underside of him with them. the wet, sticky warmth of your fingers had simon choking on a breath, hissing when you began to work the length of him that you couldn't fit in your mouth.

"jesus fuckin' christ--!"

his chest was heaving, rising up and down as he scratched at your scalp and cupped the underside of your jaw. then he bent low, smoothing a gloved hand down your throat, needing to feel the way it constricted, the way you swallowed, the feel of your skin and the vibrations as you whimpered and moaned around the thick of him.

you were suckling so sweetly, letting pools of drool and precum slip past your lips and drip along your chin, your hands, against his boot. simon was getting close--you could tell by the way he tugged on your hair and the faltering of his breaths. and he was talking--talking so much, blubbering.

"aye, sweetheart--th's it..."

"fuckin' hell...nnnghh...feel like bloody heaven..."

"...see you in m'dreams, luv...aghh! fuck--fuck, fuck, fuck--"

you didn't think there was anything more attractive than watching simon lose control. but you weren't doing much better. as you sucked the salt from his cock, you slid your hips over his boot to relieve the ache between your thighs even just a little. you thought maybe it was a pathetic sight, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. you fit your cunt right up against him, nestling the tip of his toes against your clit so you could rock back and forth, soaking the leather with you.

simon grunted, chuckling a bit to himself as you watched you suck a little harder, a little sloppier, move your hips a little messier. you were like a sweet, doe-eyed puppy--all big eyes and soft mewls and nothing inside your head except suck, suck, suck--

you whined when he came into your mouth. you held out your tongue, massaging the middle of his cock as he dripped along your mouth, your lips, under your tongue, against your chin. and like the messy little girl you were, you kept suckling on the tip until simon gripped you by the back of the head and lifted you up off the ground, grunting as he roughly manhandled you into his lap.

"little kitty can't help herself...what a fuckin' mouth on ya..."

and then his fingers were gathering the cum on your face and slipping it back into your mouth--just as the fingers on his other hand plunged inside of you.

he was deep, thick gloved fingers taking up even more space, stretching your pulsing, gummy cunt as you gripped his shoulders and cried. little tears coming down your face as you chased that blissful high, begging simon to give it, give it, you need it.

it didn't take much. just a few rough touches of your puffy clit, and you were soaking his gloves, whining as you pressed your cheek to his and mumbled how good he felt, how everything hurt so nice.

a pounding, aching thing that was gone in a matter of seconds, throwing you in a pleasure-drunk mood, with your head rest against his shoulder and your breaths coming out heavy and languid.

your eyes fluttered, but your vision was just clear enough that you could see simon lift the front of his mask. you caught the line of deep scar, something a healed and vicious against his pretty face. then it was gone, replaced by the sight of him slipping his gloved fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, pink tongue coming out to taste them as he slurped at the gooey mess you made on them.

you saw the slightest hint of a smirk before the fabric came back down again.

"'s alright, pet--" simon's voice was low, a drawl to it that made his accent a bit more pronounced. and just as your eyes fluttered shut completely--

"'m right here, kitty."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut

[bimbobaggins69]

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙮?

𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: when your new boyfriend Steve accidentally stumbles upon your hidden diary filled with your biggest secrets and darkest fantasies, he asks his fraternity brother Eddie; a drug dealing metalhead to help him fulfill your biggest one.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, past fwb steddie, 90s au, fuck boy eddie, slight hurt/comfort, sexual tension, accidental outing (I swear he means good), oral (m receiving), throat fucking, dirty talk, unprotected p in a (m receiving), anal play (f receiving), unprotected p in v & dp in v, boy on boy action, dom eddie, filth filth filth, fluffs, longing.

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: just an idea that’s been rotting away in my brain that I had to write down… as always thank you to my beautiful girlfriend @xxhellfirebunnyxx and the babes @take-everything-you-can & @livosssblog for beta reading.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 7.4k

Date night with your new boyfriend Steve has turned into a regular weekend thing, although you had your eye on the pretty, brown haired boy all semester long, you had officially met three and half weeks ago while you were working your waitressing job at the on campus diner. He asked for your number and the two of you have been inseparable since.   

“Hey Steve, can you go grab my purse off of my desk in my room, please? I’m gonna use the restroom and then we can go.” You ask, making your way into the hallway of your apartment, you close the door to the bathroom behind you softly before going about your business. 

The brown haired boy in question walks into your bedroom and grabs your black leather bag off of your desk but before he turns to walk away, something hits his nike sneaker and bounces off, hitting the floor with a light thud.

“Shit.” Steve huffs under his breath as he bends down to retrieve the aforementioned object; it's a journal or maybe a diary? It’s splayed out on the floor, open to the very last page. Steve tries his best not to look, he doesn't want to snoop. He really, really likes you and doesn't want to give any reasons for you not to trust him so early on; but when his hazel eyes catch a glimpse of the words: “Deepest Darkest Fantasies” written in bold black lettering on the very top of the page, he can't help but to continue scanning over the rest. Words like “threesome”, “double penetration” and “guy on guy action” pique his interests. He’s no prude and has definitely had his share of gay action with a few of his fraternity brothers, one specifically that he had an ongoing friends with benefits situation with, so he’s not put off by it. What he is, is surprised, almost shocked that you would be into something like that. Most girls he met weren’t and would cut a date short if you even so much as mentioned the word bisexual in their presence. 

He hears the bathroom door click open, so he quickly closes the diary and places it back onto your desk before grabbing your bag and booking it out into the living room where he sits on a bar stool, doing his best to look as if he’d been waiting for you the whole five or so minutes. 

“You ready to go?” You ask with an excited smile that Steve just wants to kiss off of you, he already thought you were his perfect dream girl but something about what he found in your diary made him that much more attracted to you; perhaps it was the feeling of someone finally accepting every part of him. 

After a nice dinner date at your favorite sushi spot and one too many saki bombers later, you're both stumbling into your apartment, heated lips clashing together like they were set off by some sort of magnetic force. Deep, passionate kisses shared between you, as if they were going out of style. Hands roaming over each other's bodies before finding their permanent spot in the other's soft tresses.

“Need you so fucking bad, baby.” Steve whispers to you through tender kisses.

“Mmm, take me to my room, big boy.” You’re finally able to huff out as his lips move in a sloppy motion, down your neck. 

The chosen pet name makes Steve tense, the kisses he was just placing on your collar bone come to an immediate halt.

“Everything okay?” You ask as you gently scratch at his scalp with your long fingernails, making him shudder and groan with delight. 

“No, yeah everythings fine.” He scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to your bedroom and tossing you onto your bed. The stuff he saw in your diary, plus the mention of the nickname his fraternity brother/ex friends with benefits calls him, kind of set his brain on fire with thoughts of the three of you together. 

Things didn't work out with Eddie in the way Steve had first wanted them to, he was very much into partying and sleeping around whereas Steve had dreams of settling down; he had his party and meaningless sex phase for most of high school, it was no longer fun for him and when he voiced that to Eddie, the metalhead laughed and said he didn't think he’d ever settle down, which was a silent blow to Steve’s heart. He has since gotten over it and moved on all while staying friends and being roommates, but that other part of his brain was enticed at the idea of having both of you at the same time. Maybe he’d have to introduce you to Eddie and let it go from there, let you choose whether you’d want them to be the ones to make that fantasy come true.

Steve loses his train of thought when you start to remove your clothes, then he's on you again; kissing you with an intense passion that almost knocks the air from your lungs. 

“God, im gonna fuck you so good.”  

“Come on Eddie, It’s a goddamn threesome! When have you ever turned one of those down, huh?” Steve deplores as he paces in front of his half naked roommate who’s sat comfortably in a slouched position with his head thrown back onto a saggy, discolored couch cushion.

“I'm sure I've turned one or two down in my day.” Eddie says with a smirk as his eyes follow the honey eyed boy, whose red sox cap sits backwards over that perfect quiff of brown hair.   

“Oh please, you fucked those twin sisters last month and had no moral fucking compass then.” Steve quips, exhaling the built up of irritation out through his nose.

“Well, that was just fun. Believe it or not Harrington, twins are a very niche kink and I won't sit here and listen to you kink shame me, kay?” The smirk on Eddie’s face grows to full capacity when Steve throws him a pissed off look as his hands fall to his hips, in his signature Steve stance.

“C’mon, at least meet her first before you make an indefinite decision, Eds.” Steve says while pulling out the big guns; the nickname mixed with a bat of his long lashes has his roommate instantly folding, though not without contempt.

“Fine, I’ll meet your little girlfriend and decide whether I wanna fuck her or not.” Eddie huffs out as if he’s doing Steve some big nuanced favor. “Now move, you're blocking the Tv.” The metalhead declares as he tosses an overstuffed throw pillow at the former jock. 

“You’re not fucking her, we’re fucking her!” Steve shouts as he smacks the pillow out of his face, letting it plop to the floor before he turns around and makes his way to his bedroom to think of the best way to bring this up to you without having to reveal that he accidentally read your diary. 

“So, we’re meeting your friend here?” You ask your boyfriend as he opens the door to the sports bar for you before ushering you inside with a light slap to your ass.  

“Mhm, my good friend and roommate, Eddie. He’ll be here soon.” Steve hoped he wasn’t being too obvious, although he did doubt you’d catch on without any significant reason to. His nerves were getting the best of him and he felt guilty for doing this behind your back, maybe he should talk to you about this first? But, he figured you could still just meet Eddie on a friendly basis without the added pressure of possibly choosing him to be a third.

Once the hostess sits you down at your table, an unfamiliar head of fluffy waves comes bounding through the crowd, his eyes scanning the restaurant before falling on Steve, who immediately stands up and waves a hand above his head, making Eddie roll his eyes at Steve’s dramatic gesture. 

“Sup Harrington,” The metalhead greets before his eyes fall to you, sitting meekly with your hands in your lap and a nervous, tight smile on your face. Eddie couldn't be bothered to take his eyes off of you. He was stunned and it wasn't because he didn't think Steve could pull such a beautiful girl. No, obviously king steve could get whoever he wanted, this was because he too found you unbelievably beautiful and something that Eddie learned early on in his friendship with Steve was that they did not have the same taste in women which is why they never tried for a threesome before, but you oh your were the exception.     

After the drinks were flowing through everyone’s veins and the pizza and wings had been devoured, conversation started out light-hearted with lots of banter between the boys. It was clear they were very good friends; how good was still up for debate but you could clearly see that they cared for each other which warmed your heart because Steve deserves all the love in the world. You had never met anyone like him and were grateful he essentially fell into your lap or more so came into your diner and asked for your number.

“So, what other fantasies were in this diary?” Eddie smirks as he looks between you and Steve with a playful, mischievous look in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused about the question but your heart drops when you see Steve shut his eyes and bow his head as if Eddie just divulged a big secret and by his reaction you were pretty sure he did. 

“Oh, was I- did she not- fuck.” Eddie’s shoulders slump and his smile fades as he looks at you and Steve with regretful eyes. 

“You read my diary?” You ask, turning towards Steve as your voice tumbles out so sullen and soft, making both of their hearts ache. 

“I’m-I’m sorry baby, I was gonna tell-” he begins before he’s being cut off by a now pissed off version of you. 

“Wait, so this wasn’t me just meeting one of your friends because you genuinely wanted me to, this is because of the things I wrote in my diary? What, were you trying to set up some kind of threesome?” You scoff as both boys look down into their laps, you can feel the shame rolling off their backs and you couldn’t help the betrayal you felt. 

“I’m gonna go, I need some time to think.” You say abruptly standing from the booth, but before you could take a step, they’re both stopping you.

“No, baby just let me take you home.” 

“I can drive you home, princess.” 

They say in unison, and as much as you wanted to stay and possibly entertain this thought of having a threesome, your humiliation wins over and you just need to get as far away from the both of them as possible. 

“I’m fine, I’ll talk to you later.” You snap before making your way out of the restaurant, but instead of calling for a taxi like you probably should have, you impulsively decide to begin your three mile walk of shame back home. 

You’ve been stewing in your own feelings of treachery for two days, and although you're still upset; thoughts of the frizzy haired metalhead haven’t left your mind. If it came down to really having this fantasy you have laid awake many nights thinking about, fulfilled; would you really want it to be with him, or more importantly them? The burning in your lower belly and the need to snap your legs together, gave that answer away fairly quickly. 

As you settle onto your couch with your favorite spicy book in hand, the shrill ring of your house phone has you up within seconds. Your heart begins to beat frantically out of your chest at the thought of it being Steve on the other end, you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive this whole mishap quite yet, even if you haven't stopped daydreaming about it.

“Hello?” Your voice comes out groggy, having not used it for hours as you’ve been cooped up in your apartment, feeling sorry for yourself about something that you were now questioning was as bad as you’ve made it seem. 

“Hey.” The voice that comes out over the crackle of the phone speaker isn't Steves but it is familiar to you in the sense that you’d just heard it not even three days ago.

“Eddie?” You question with disbelief. 

“Aw, you remembered princess.” You can hear his smug smirk through the red plastic you are now white knuckling.

“What’s up Eddie? Is Steve okay?” You ask, trying to politely move the conversation along. 

“I mean he hasn’t eaten for two days and has been sulking in his room if that's what you're wondering.” The new information pulls at your heart strings, you truly didn't think Steve would be too sad over your decision for space; and although what he did wasn't entirely okay, you still wanted nothing more than to run and comfort him. 

Eddie takes your silence as an excuse to keep going, “Um, well I was just calling to see if maybe I could come by and talk to you, please?” He breathes heavily into the speaker making you cringe at the loud crackle, you can hear the desperation to fix things in the tone of his voice. 

“Yeah sure, we can talk.”

It takes Eddie 20 minutes to get to your apartment after you'd given him your address and safe wishes, which seemed to have taken him by surprise. What was the big deal with telling someone to ‘be safe’?

The knock at your door has your palms clammy, you couldn't deny the idea of seeing Eddie and being alone with him, made you nervous. 

Maybe you weren’t as innocent in this as you thought. 

“There she is.” The smile that graces the long haired boy’s face along with the rasp in his voice instantly has goosebumps spreading over your heated skin. 

“Hi, um c-come in.” You stutter, moving from the doorway, your hand gripped tight on the doorknob in order to close it behind him. 

“Nice place.” He says while his eyes roam over the living room, the wide smile never leaves his face until his chocolate orbs find yours. 

“Thanks.” You give him a half smile before you're sitting back down on your couch. You bring your slouch sock clad feet up and tuck them underneath you, protectively as if some kind of defense mechanism. Eddie can’t help but think you’re the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen.

“Sit. So what did you wanna talk about?” Your voice slightly trembles as you motion for the metalhead to sit down in the spot beside you. 

“I came here to tell you that Stevie means well, he really would never do anything to hurt you. I swear. I’ve never seen him so upset over someone.” Eddie’s words come out in a jumbled panic as if he’s anxiously trying to get you to see things from another perspective, and before you can get a word in edgewise, he’s continuing. “He just thought it’d be a good idea since me and him used to bang, so I'm familiar, ya know? And he really wanted to make this ‘fantasy’ come true for you.” The way he so casually drops the bomb that him and Steve used to fuck, causes your eyes to grow as wide as saucers.

“Oh fuck! Did you not know that either? Jesus Christ nobody tells me anything, I-Im just gonna shut the fuck up.” He huffs a nervous laugh before running his hands through his brown waves that sit tousled down his mid back.

You wanted to scoff and say yeah, same. But decided against it once you caught a glimpse of his big glassy doe eyes.

“I’m sorry, I just thought because he came to me with the threesome thing and the shit about you watching us fuck around, I-I guess i just thought you had to at least know. I’m- fuck he’s gonna be so pissed at me if you break up with him over this.” Eddie's head falls into his hands before he begins to shake it out of pure disappointment in himself. 

“Hey, I'd never break up with someone over their sexual past.” You say before scooting closer to his body and wrapping your arms around his torso to comfort him, the action causes your face to snuggle in close to his leather jacket covered chest that smells like a mixture of musky cologne, weed and cigarette smoke.

“God, you're such a special girl, you know that? I can see why he likes you so much.” Eddie mutters as his hand rubs gently in an up and down motion on your back.

You can’t help but to snuggle in deeper, as his soft touch and low purr of his voice, now lulls you to absolute comfort. You had never felt so safe in any other man's arms other than Steve’s, and the revelations from that fact and the one of Eddie and Steve having already had sex, causes the flames to lick up throughout your body and you already know the answer to whether you want them to be the ones to provide you with this fantasy. 

“I wanna do it.” You say without much thought, the words are slightly muffled by Eddie’s jacket but he hears you loud and clear. His eyes widen in surprise as you look up at his face from where your head sits shyly hidden in his chest. Fuck, you were really doing things to him. 

“Wanna do what, sweet girl?” He whispers down towards you before moving a stray strand of hair out of your face. He hopes you mean the threesome, but he’s not apposed to fucking you right here on your couch, steve be damned. But he immediately feels guilty at that thought. 

“Being with you and Steve at the same time.” You whisper as you blink up at him with a nervous look in your eyes.

“No, no. Say what you really want, princess. Go ahead.” Eddie says back, but this time with a more domineering edge. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip ever so slightly, before he’s rubbing it along your jawline. “You can do it for me, baby. Just say it.” 

His face is within inches of yours and you want to kiss him so badly but you also want to give him what he’s asking for. 

“I want you and Steve to use me and fuck my holes.” You purr back before bashfully biting at the plump skin of your bottom lip.

Eddie almost chokes on his spit, he was expecting you to say something along the lines of “I want you and Steve to fuck me.” But him and his cock weren’t prepared for “use me and fuck my holes.” Jesus fucking Christ. 

“It’s taking everything inside of me to hold back from kissing you right now, angel.” Eddie says as he tries to steady his breathing. “But we’ll save that for later, alright? Call Steve first and then we’ll go from there.” Eddie says before placing a sweet kiss to the top of your head. He stands up and bids you a farewell before awkwardly walking to your front door with a rock hard cock between his legs. 

“Hello-” Steve’s hoarse voice croaks out from the other end of the landline.

“Steve, baby? Can we talk?” 

You and Steve mutually agreed that your talk would be better to do in person, so he invited you over to the frat house, so you could sit down and talk with him and Eddie. Once you are ready to go, diary in hand. Your excitement from getting to see them, quickly turns to anxious nerves. 

This was all so new to you, you wondered if you and Steve's relationship would change? Or how things would be with you and Eddie? What if Steve and Eddie realize they have feelings for each other in the process and leave you in the dust? So many things you never had to think about when this was just your fantasy. 

Well you suppose those were all questions you could bring up to them once they were in front of you. You tried your best to not dwell on the unknown, although that was so much easier said than done. 

You pull up to the large brick house that sits on a huge grassy lawn. The fraternities greek letter badge sits proudly above the porch. You swallow down your nerves as you grab your bag and head towards the big iron gate that sits wide open, you walk through it leaving yourself no room to hesitate before climbing up the two steps towards the front door. 

You knock three times, crossing your arms over your chest when you glanced down and realized how much your cleavage was almost spilling from your shirt. 

“Come in!” A voice yells from the other side, making you freeze for a few seconds while a lump forms in your throat at the idea of just walking into someone else’s home. Before you can reach out towards the doorknob, it’s being opened for you and a set of sad, downturned hazel eyes meet yours. 

“Hey.” Is all he says before he’s ushering you inside. 

Once in, you can’t help but to look around. It’s huge and cleaner then you thought it’d be, considering it houses about a dozen or so guys. 

Steve can see the nervousness in your eyes, so he eases it by letting you know he was the only one home and that Eddie would be back any minute now. 

“Do you wanna sit in the living room or go up to my room?” Steve asks, as his head slightly perks up with excitement, more so hopeful than anything else. 

“Your room is cool.” You say with an awkward nod. 

His room was nothing like you’d expected, there were tons of posters all over the walls: cars, bands and naked girls were the theme. You figured it had to do with the excessive masculine facade you had to put on to be part of one of these fraternities.

Steve looks around with you and smiles sheepishly as your eyes meet a poster of two semi naked girls kissing, while one girl has her hand in the other girl's black panties.

You smile in amusement before taking a seat on his big bed, while Steve leans against his wooden desk directly in front of you. 

“I-Im so sorry, baby.” He sniffles, his sad eyes melting your heart as he continues. “I promise you, I didn’t go through your diary on purpose, it just fell and when I went to pick it up it was on that page, I-I just couldn’t look away after I seen what was in it, and that’s my fault, a-and I should’ve never went to eddie behind your back. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I just- being without you for these past couple days I realized that I-I love you. And I know we haven't been dating for very long but, I think I’ve known from the moment we stayed up all night on the phone the first very first time, I just knew then that I was gonna fall in love with you.” He unveils, making your breath hitch. 

“You love me?” You murmur hesitantly. 

“I do. So much, honey.” It’s so sincere, as if he didn’t even have to give it a second thought. 

You're up and rushing towards him within seconds, wrapping him up into a big hug. His arms instantly move to the small of your back and before you know it, he’s picking you up. He walks towards the bed, sitting down on the plush mattress before adjusting your legs to straddle his lap. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, baby. These lips, your voice, your beautiful smile. God, I drove myself crazy just thinking about you.” He confesses, and his low husky timber goes straight between your thighs.

“I missed you, too.” You utter as your hands play mindlessly with his brown locks. You look down into his hazel eyes from where you were sat, perched in his lap. “I love you.” The weight that's been removed from your chest with your revelation, feels euphoric. Especially when Steve's lashes flutter and a pretty smile begins to stir on his once saddened face.

Your boyfriend's fingertips dig into your waist as his grip tightens, holding you close to him in fear of losing you again. His desperation, palpable. 

“Fuck, you just made me the happiest man alive.” He whispers, a wide smile taking over his face as he snuggles his head, lovingly into your chest. 

“Steve?” You whisper back, hands never leaving his fluffy mane. 

“What is it, honey?” He asks, his eyes snapping back up to yours with curiosity. 

“I wanna do the threesome.” You quickly blurt, before cowering away when you noticed how wide his eyes had gotten. 

“Baby, n-no. You don’t have to do anything you're uncomfortable with. You can just keep it as a fantasy. If it’s something you’d like to do in the future, then we can talk about it then. I'm not gonna lose you again.” He sighs, closing the small gap between your bodies by possessively bringing you chest to chest with him, as his grip tightens to a nearly painful level, causing you to whimper. 

“I um, I know about you and Eddie.” You admit, feeling his body tense beneath you. The look in his eyes is a mixture of fear and longing.

“He told you?” It comes out sharper than he intended, but that wasn't for Eddie to confess. You were his, he should've been the one to tell you his secrets.

“Trust me, he didn’t mean to. He seemed to be just as in the dark about things as I was.” You tease gently. 

Steve’s eyes fill with regret at your words, “I know, and I’m sorry baby. So fucking sorry.” He murmurs into your skin before he’s attacking your chest with kisses. 

“I forgive you, Stevie.” You insist, silently trying to work up the nerve to say what you really want to say. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” The boy beneath you scrunches his face up in confusion. You take a shuddering breath before you continue. “You and Eddie together.”  

He sighs, eyes slightly darkening before he's  smirking up at you. “That get you goin’, pretty girl?” 

“Mmhm, I touched myself thinking about it.” Your confession has Steve’s eyes blowing wide with lust.

“Mmm, played with that pretty little pussy to the thought of what? Hm, me getting fucked?” He groans when you can’t help but to grind your now throbbing center against his growing erection.

Before things have a chance to heat up any further, Eddie pops his head in through the doorway, making you and Steve jump and gasp at the intrusion. 

“Sorry for interrupting.” Eddie says glumly, “should I uh, go?” He points his thumb behind his shoulder towards the door, but you can clearly see from the look in his eyes that the last thing he wants to do is leave. 

“No, c’mere.” You encourage but Eddie hesitates for a moment, before he begins taking a few steps over to you and Steve. He stands right behind you, making you beam at him from over your shoulder. 

“Princess over here was just telling me something very interesting.” Steve snickers up at the metalhead, who's looking down at both of you with intense affection. 

“Oh yeah? And what was that, pretty boy?” Eddie asks, his eyes never leaving the side of your face. 

“She said she touched her tight little cunt while she thought about you fucking me.” Steve’s once hazel eyes are now black and staring you down like a hungry predator.

“That true, sweet thing?” Eddie returns, before taking your chin between his fingers and bringing your face closer towards his, for a better view.

“Yes sir.” It slips out between your lips without much thought, but the men on either side of you groan in satisfaction. Now, you’re able to feel the metalheads hardening cock poke at your lower back. 

“Before we start, I um, I brought something.” You admit before hopping off of Steve’s lap and out of the perfect little sandwich they had created on either side of you. 

You dig through your bag that you had set down on Steve’s dresser, retrieving the object that brought you to this very moment. You turn back towards the boys, realizing their gaze hasn't left you since you first stood up. You clutch the black leather book to your chest as Steve and Eddie’s eyes follow you with curious mischief. 

“Want you to look through this together, so you can, maybe see some things I’d like to try, since we’re crossing one fantasy off the list.” You hold it out for one of them to take, Eddie moves quicker than Steve, eagerly ripping the diary from your hands. 

“Hey, she's my girlfriend.” The possessiveness in the honey eyed boy's voice, has you biting at your lip from how hot you find it.

“She’s ours tonight, big boy.” Eddie retorts, and you don’t want to admit how much the word ours, has your tummy swooping with excitement.

Eddie cackles at Steve's face before he’s taking a seat beside him, so close their thighs are touching.

“Let’s see here.” Eddie sings, as he quickly flips through the more boring pages of random writings and doodles. Until a page finally captures his attention. “Ah ha.” He says with a sly grin, as his finger follows after every word he’s reading. 

“Being dominated and degraded, huh?” The long haired boy beams up at you from beneath his lashes, as if he were seeing you in a new light. 

“Has Stevie ever done any of this stuff?” Eddie asks curiously, no judgment behind his words.

 You shake your head no while Steve stays silent, his cheeks pinkening in the process. 

“Yeah, baby boy’s more submissive, isn't he? Used to get so hard when I’d boss him around.” Eddie sighs as if in some far off memory. 

Steve’s not quite used to talking about being with a man in front of you or any woman, for that matter so his shoulders tense at Eddie’s confession. You quickly ease him by running your hand along his jaw, and up into his hair, before grabbing and tugging harshly, surprising both boys with the abrupt switch. 

“Is that true, baby? You like being bossed around?” Steve begins to stammer as his eyes grow glossy with desire. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna have a lot of fun with the both of you.” Eddie smirks as he shakes his head in disbelief. 

After the boys had taken their time kissing you, and getting you all worked up and whimpering for them. They began taking your clothes off. Both of them moaning when the fact that you hadn’t been wearing a bra or panties was revealed. 

Once their gawking and dirty words had stopped, you and Eddie began working on pulling all of Steve’s clothes off, leaving you both stark naked; all the while Eddie was fully dressed in his black and leather. 

“Get on your knees, both of you.” He demands, and you and Steve obey with no questions asked; like good little pets. Eddie was so achingly hard from just that thought alone. 

You and your boyfriend worked together to get the metalheads belt and jeans undone and down his creamy thighs. His hard cock bobbing out between yours and Steve's face. Your eyes widen at the size, but Steve pays no mind to it; reminding you that they’ve already done this, you're the one that's new here. To your surprise, there was no jealousy in that conclusion. 

“Open.” Eddie demands again, leaving you and Steve to submit to his every order, and you both do without any hesitation. Opening up your mouths and lulling your tongues out in the process, leaving Eddie to slap his fat leaking tip against your wet and pink, pillowy muscles.

The long haired boy above you, growls as his eyes take in the sight before him. You and Steve are on your knees for him with your tongues out, allowing him to slap his throbbing cock against them. He’s had his share of threesomes, but none have ever made him feel like this. 

Steve finally has enough of the teasing, eagerly wrapping his lips around Eddie’s tip and sucking before he swallows it down to the hilt with no problem. Seeing your boyfriend take Eddie so perfectly, has you grinding your hips against nothing. Desperately wanting to move your hand between your thighs and rub at your swollen bundle of nerves. 

“Share with your girlfriend Stevie, no need to be greedy. There's enough of me to go around.” Eddie insists, with his signature devilish smirk. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Steve retorts, making you laugh at their boyish banter.

Steve looks at you with a bashful smile, before he’s wrapping his hand around Eddie’s shaft and bringing it closer to your awaiting mouth. 

“Go ahead, suck his cock, baby.” Steve affirms, as if you needed the encouragement. You wrap your lips around Eddie, hungirly taking him as far back as you could. 

You find a steady pace, bobbing your head up and down on him as you twist your hand along the inches you can’t take. 

“Oh fuck. That’s a good girl.” Eddie groans, fisting your hair into a ponytail. He takes the bottom of his band tee and sticks it between his teeth, and your eyes flicker up to the trail of hair that leads up to his belly button and over his toned abs. You realize as his whole torso is on display, that he has both of his pink, pebbled nipples pierced. 

“You’re both so fucking greedy for this cock, jesus.” Eddie huffs, but he’s the complete opposite of upset or annoyed, fuck no. He’s vibrating, the most excited and turned on he’s probably ever been in his life. 

“Open your mouths, hands behind your back.” Another demand you both follow instantly. 

Eddie grabs the end of his shaft in his hand and fucks into Steve’s mouth, four thrusts in and he’s removing himself and bringing his cock to your lips. He goes back and forth between your throats, as spit drips off of his dick and into puddles on the floor. 

“Up.” He says with a stern vibrato.

“You. lay on the bed with your head upside down, I want it hanging off the edge.” He says, and you make quick work at following his orders. 

“Good girl.” He whispers sweetly, before bending down and catching your lips in a dirty, hunger filled kiss. 

“Alright, I want you to fuck her wet little cunt while I fuck her throat. How’s that sound, big boy?” 

Steve nods his head in agreement, as an excited smile and hungry eyes find your awaiting, pliant body. Your boyfriend climbs over you, nestling himself between your thighs. He brings two fingers between your legs and rubs at your folds, gauging whether or not he needs to get you wetter for him. But to his contentment, you're already soaked and dripping. He grabs his hard, leaking cock and rubs it along your slit before breaching your hole. 

“Mmm.” Steve hums in delight, as he reaches the depths of your pussy, so warm and tight. 

Eddie begins to slide his cock between your lips, and you're quickly being filled at both ends. You can't help but to relish in it, the fantasy you’ve had for years, playing out before your very eyes, with you as a participant. The thought had you growing wetter and your throat relaxing while both boys pounded into you.

“She takes cock so well, doesn't she?” You hear Steve question above you. 

“So fucking good, she’s got my goddamn legs shaking from this tight little throat.” Eddie growls as he thrusts harder with each word. You hear the smacking of their lips, as they both groan and whimper between tongue filled kisses. 

“Shit, shit. I gotta stop or I'm gonna come.” Eddie pants, removing himself as quickly as possible. 

He couldn't let this be over, yet.  

Steve pulls out too, looking to Eddie for his next command. 

“Princess wants to watch us mess around, then that's what princess is gonna get.” Eddie says, throwing you a wicked smile, as he moves in closer to Steve. He grabs his cock and fists it before crashing their lips back together. 

You move towards the top of the bed, for the perfect view. But also to be out of their way, you didn't want there to be any distractions from this.

They start out kissing and stroking each other's cocks. Their tongues lapping together, sloppily as desperate moans flow through the room.

Your fingers find their way between your thighs, the tips move in a circle over your throbbing bud and you bite at your lip as your eyes never leave the scene in front of you. 

Eddie now has Steve on all fours, while the metalhead stands behind him. He falls to his knees, before bringing his tongue to the other boy's rim. He fucks him with it, making Steve mewl all the while his eyes bore into yours. You can tell he’s so turned on; his hair is a mess, his face is flushed and his eyes are glossed over with desire. The long haired boy begins prodding at your boyfriend's hole with his fingers, stretching him out enough to take his cock that is now aching, painfully.

“You ready to give our girl a show, Stevie?” Eddie murmurs into his ear, while his eyes finally take in the image of you, laid out for them; legs spread wide as you touch yourself. He can’t help but want you closer.

“Come help me, baby.” Eddie insists, as he rubs his cock against Steve’s hole. 

“Yes, sir.” You purr, crawling across the bed before you're stopping just beside him.

“Such a good girl.” He praises as both boys watch your every movement. “Hold his ass open for me, can you do that, sweetheart?” You nod at his words. 

“Yes sir, I can do that.” And you do, grabbing at both of Steve’s plump cheeks and pulling them apart, as the metalhead begins pushing into his tight hole. They both groan in unison as Eddie buries himself inside the pliant boy beneath him.

“Fuck, that looks so good.” You can't help but utter as you stare at the way Steve stretches around Eddie. 

“Yeah? Like the way your boyfriend's tight little hole looks getting stuffed with my big cock?” He grunts, his hips speeding up as he fucks Steve with a force that knocks the wooden headboard repeatedly into the wall. 

Steve’s drooling and whimpering into the mattress, as his eyes roll back with pleasure. Eddie’s cock has been hitting his prostate dead on and he’s so close to coming. 

“I, I'm gonna come.” Steve whines.

“No. You’re. Not.” Eddie growls, as he slowly pulls out of the warm, tight hole that has always taken his cock so perfectly.

“Pretty girl deserves to be fucked too, doesn’t she?” The older boy smirks, slapping the round globe of Steve’s ass. 

“Switch places.” Eddie commands. 

You bend over, ass up in the air; mimicking the exact position your boyfriend was just in.

“Jesus, you’ve got some real pretty holes, baby.” Eddie cooed, as his thumbs spread you out.

 “You ever played with her little asshole, Harrington?” He asks, before spitting a glob right onto your puckered hole. 

“Just with my fingers.” Steve admits, bashfully.

“That’s a shame. We’ll have to change that another time, but right now I’m dying to stretch out this little cunt. Fuck, she’s dripping. Just begging to be fucked.” He boasts, then he’s sinking his two middle fingers into your cunt, all the while he rubs his thumb over your spit filled asshole. 

He works his fingers inside of you, almost immediately finding your sweet spot, which instantly has you whining and biting at the bed sheets. 

“Fuck yeah, so fucking ready for me.” Eddie murmurs under his breath, before he’s removing his fingers and replacing them with his much bigger cock. “Mmm, fuck.” He groans as his head falls back and a sigh of pleasure leaves his parted lips. 

Steve sits with his back against the headboard as he watches your bodies move together so effortlessly. He can't take it anymore, so he starts palming at his needy cock as he watches the two people he cares about most, captivate and pleasure each other. 

“Get your ass over here, big boy. Come fuck her mouth for me.” 

Steve’s moving before the demand fully leaves Eddie’s mouth, making you both giggle at his desperation. “With pleasure.” The honey eyed boy marvels, as he lays down with you between his thighs. His sensitive tip sits just inches from your lips, so you grab it and incase him in your wet mouth as you begin to suck him off with gusto.

They both begin to fuck into you, like they did when this all first started. Your wetness drips down both sets of balls, and Steve can’t take his eyes off of the way you're working his cock in and out of your mouth. Your eyes are watering and spit is dripping from your chin before you take him all the way back into your throat. You shake your head, making him whimper as his eyes roll back. 

“Need to feel you, Stevie.” Eddie groans, “help me stretch her little pussy out.” He’s practically begging the pretty boy, and your body slightly tenses at the idea of both of them inside of you, stretching you out together. 

“That okay, sweet girl?” Steve asks you, tenderly. 

“Please.” Is all you can mewl, as you tighten around Eddie. 

“Oh yeah, she’s very okay with it.” Eddie teases, as he brings both palms down harshly slapping at your ass, while he waits for Steve to make his way underneath you.

Finally, he sheethes his cock in right alongside his roommates. Stretching you out to maximum capacity, and you can’t hold back the loud moans and sobs that are ripped from your throat. 

Once the sharp pain is gone and you're used to the stretch, they begin snapping their hips in unison. The feeling is so indescribable, as both cocks rub together inside of you. You're all so wet and slippery and both boys are incredibly hard, but they only grow harder as their tips rub together between your walls. 

“Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck, want you fill this pussy up with me, baby.” Eddie groans as he talks directly to Steve. His words cause you to clench around them.

“I'm gonna come, please don’t stop. Please don't come yet.” You babble.

“We're not coming until you do, honey.” Steve chokes, trying not to moan and curse as you tighten up even more, pushing their cocks together with force.

Eddie wraps your hair around his knuckles and pulls, causing your head to snap back as your eyes meet his, upside down.

“You gonna come on our cocks? Hm? Make a fucking mess on us.” He encourages.

Both boys' hands fall to your hips, right over each other as they bring you down harder on their dicks, that are so close to exploding. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” You squeal as your body begins to jerk and shake with intensity. You come so hard you almost black out, falling onto Steve's chest. He snuggles you in closer, holding you tight as him and Eddie continue to fuck into you. Two sets of expletives fall from their mouths as their cocks twitch against each other and they empty their balls deep inside of you.

You all fall into a heap of tangled limbs, as you and both boys fight to catch your breath. Everyones silent for a few minutes, trying to take in the events that just took place. 

“Alright, I’ll leave you two alone.” Eddie mumbles with sorrowful eyes, as if he’d felt like he worn out his welcome.

“No, stay.” You and Steve mutually implore. 

“You want me to stay?” He asks, unsure if it was a good idea.

“We want you to stay.”   

★ 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson comfort #eddie stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie x y/n #steddie x you #steddie stranger things #steddie oneshot #steddie au #steddie smut #steddie fic #steddie x reader smut #steddie x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #stev #frat boy steve

[motherofagony]

FIRE WALK - one shot

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: au, no outbreak!joel x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+, minors dni word count: 6.5k summary: a chance encounter at a motel has you crossing paths with a stranger in a blue t-shirt. content warnings + tags: age gap (we'll say 15-20 years), very brief references to past non-con encounters (not with joel, no details just shitty men in general), soft!joel, alcohol, mentions of family trauma and ab*se, unprotected piv, fingering, oral (f + m receiving), A Scene With a Belt™, slight mentions of reader's clothing but no physical descriptions otherwise, love as consumption and women as fruit a/n: this was a brain-worm of a one shot, so i had to press pause on AHFE and get it out. consider it a dirty love letter to strangers with stories in shitty motels. and i have to give the biggest thank-you to @iamskyereads for stepping in and offering to be my beta reader in the final hour. she was so unbelievably thorough and thoughtful and kind. i owe you big.

New-age boogeymen hang two-way mirrors and jiggle motel door handles with broken hangers.

That’s what the news says.

August licks an unforgiving line of heat up your back, and cutoff denim and halter tops do nothing but give the sun more skin to burn. 

It’s sweltering, brutal as an Arizona summer is, and The Palms Motel promises a pool and a mini bar on their dirty marquee. You’ll take what you can get, can’t really afford to be picky with fifty dollars in your pocket, but at least maybe you’ll live like royalty tonight.

Some guy you met — Tom, Tim, Jim, whoever — pulls his convertible up to the front office. Your knees knock together over the speed bump, cartilage kissing bone.

It’s the closest you’ve ever come close to a chauffeur, but the chauffeur you see in movies doesn’t usually take liberties with trying to work his grease-speckled mechanic hand up the passenger’s shirt.

You met him at a gas station in Tucson, thumbing your way from northern Texas to put as much distance between you and your whiskey-breathed dad as you could. He’d torn your clothes apart at the seams with his eyes when he spotted you in the parking lot, swimming in blood-infested waters with sharp, sharp teeth.

There was no plan, no directions penned and cities circled on a folded map, just glass in your hair and a final straw.

He asked if you could buy him some booze — revoked license, baby, y’know how that goes — and you shouldn’t have, but when he flashed a leather wallet thick with cash, you knew you’d be stupid not to.

You hid behind a shelf inside the gas station while he idled in the parking lot and plucked a fifty from the wad, stuffing it deep in your bag. You grabbed some shitty malt-something from a fridge along with a 6-pack, flashing the slack-jawed cashier a wink. 

He didn’t try to hide the eye contact with your tits, but neither do most men. Sometimes you milk it in your favor, sometimes it just makes your lunch rise to the back of your throat.

And when you’re by yourself, it’s hot iron, ready to strike. A doe in their headlights, a buck with a nice rack. Skipping through the center of their bullseye.

You bought a little palm-sized bottle for yourself and tucked it safely next to the stolen cash in the abyss of your purse. These tiny cons got you by, made power surge deep in your belly. It made loneliness feel worth it, knowing you had an upper hand to lean on if you were ever in a bind.

He bitched about inflation when you came out with less than was reasonable for the amount you spent, and you just shrugged. Not your cash, not your problem. 

You bartered for a ride to the nearest motel, and now Tom-Tim-Jim is asking you over the purr of the engine if you need company for the night.

If you were feeling a little more you, you might’ve taken him up on it. Maybe he would’ve even paid for the room, maybe he wouldn’t get angry like your dad does. Maybe he’d be able to fuck you without hitting you.

You’re good at diffusing the temper in most men, can touch them in ways that make them grit their teeth, can be a good girl and go fetch.

But you’re not in the mood to bend, to give someone’s son — someone’s husband with a tan line around their ring finger — a place to wipe their shoes on. You don’t feel like wiping their dirt, your mascara from your eyes and saying thank you while they zip up their pants.

And you sure as fuck don’t fancy being on a milk carton.

“I’m alright, sugar. Thanks for the ride,” you say, dipping your chin to peer over your sunglasses. “I know where to find you, don’t worry.”

Yeah fuckin’ right.

He doesn’t try to conceal his disappointment, just sucks his teeth and squeezes at the exposed skin of your thigh. His way of saying goodbye to something he could’ve dripped sweat on, came in too early. You think your flesh might rot off in chunks. 

You open the door and swing your legs out in a way that’s a little too eager.

Tom-Tim-Jim waves solemnly with two fingers up and two bent, and then he’s gone in an aggressive rev.

The motel might’ve been a kitschy dream in its heyday. It’s not a total dump; more of a vintage skeleton of washed-out pink and umbrellas that’ve been ripped by weather and overuse. There are a million faded emblems of cartoonish palm trees. It’s almost endearing how tragic it is.

You can tell that it was popular and swarming with tourists at one time — there are dusty, water-stained pamphlets lining the wall next to the front desk that brag Named one of Arizona’s top destinations in 1996!

A mounted fan whirs and oscillates, but it might as well be someone blowing hot breath down your neck. 

There’s a tired woman holding down the fort at the desk with a name tag that claims Brenda, and she looks surprised to see you. You figure most customers are stopping in for a night’s rest on the way to somewhere more important, their final destination. But you don’t look like you have anywhere better to be.

“Hey, honey,” Brenda trickles, laced with an accent that’s more New Orleans than Arizona. “Need a room?”

“Yeah, just for the night,” you say, fishing out your wallet with confidence that doesn’t meet your eyes. “How much?”

“Forty-five a night, ‘less you wanna upgrade to the honeymoon suite.” She looks somewhere over your shoulder.

That’s nearly everything you have, but it sounds a lot like tomorrow’s problem. At least you’ll be safe tonight from the prowling stares of nighttime predators, and the leftover change will give you a decent vending machine dinner.

“Just a normal room’s fine,” you smile, sliding over the crumpled, stolen fifty.

Brenda types busily on the keyboard, asking for your name but nothing else. And when she hands you a plastic keycard, you finally relax your shoulders. Untangle the nerves in your lower back that are choking one another.

Room 17, it reads. Your oasis awaits!

You thank her, spin on your heel, and immediately bump chest to chest with something hard.

You’re eye level with a worn, cornflower blue t-shirt, ringed with a light stain of sweat at the collar. They’re grasping both of your arms to steady you, and you’re snagging the gaze of a tousled man with a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Watch where you’re goin’,” he murmurs, but it isn’t reprimanding or mean like you’re used to, just sickly sweet and Texan. Syrupy in a way that drips right down between your legs.

You don’t remember seeing anyone else in the lot when you’d pulled up. And the stealth of him entering soundlessly behind you sends a jolt of electricity up your spine, the clench of something that would be fear if it were any other stranger.

But he doesn’t look at you with intent to devour or to claim. Just eyes you like you’re anyone else. An equal. The bare minimum, but rare and shiny nonetheless.

“Sorry,” you breathe, and he’s releasing you a little too quickly for your liking. Leaving brands on the creases of where your forearms meet upper and elbow.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

So you don’t.

You brush past him on the way out, a polite nod. And that’s that. 

The heat is the kind that feels hotter, unbearable when paired with the shrill sing of cicadas. An endless buzzing that you think might be the sun sizzling on the concrete. If you stood in one place for too long, your flip flops might very well melt you in place.

Your room key clicks to unlock Room 17, and you push the door open to a heavy, humid space that smells vaguely of mold. You’re so grateful for the privacy that you can’t even bring yourself to wrinkle your nose.

Flip flops discarded, your toes sink into shag carpet — a dirty luxury that makes you moan. It’s only been two days since you left home, fled home, but it beats sleeping with one eye open on a bus stop bench.

You up-end your leather bag, dumping all of its contents onto the bed. Cigarettes, some loose film canisters, your toothbrush, a lighter. There wasn’t much time to pack, nothing worth bringing, and the less, the better. Nothing to weigh you down if you had to dip at a moment’s notice.

It takes you only a couple minutes and a light sheen of sweat to realize that the A/C is busted. Smothered, you try to crack open a window in the bathroom, but it’s no cooler than the hell you’re standing in.

When you let Brenda know, she just shrugs with an apologetic kind of half-smile.

“Most of ‘em are out these days, honey,” she says, and you decide then that it’s a small price to pay. “We got someone comin’ to look at it next week.”

You shoot her a smile, figure that she’s had enough rotten backtalk in her day. You scoop a set of flamingo-themed matches from the bowl on the counter and turn around, only to see a familiar blue shirt waiting his turn.

His eyes try not to roam, but he’s giving you a nod and stepping up without hesitation, asking Brenda for extra towels.

The way that she titters and blushes, you’d think he’d asked if he could spit in her mouth.

It irritates you, and you can’t say why.

The door chimes behind you as it closes, and you linger, striking a match and lighting a cigarette. When he emerges, a stack of towels so high it’s hitting his chin, you step in stride on the walk back. Tracing his footsteps, catching up with his shadow.

“You followin’ me?” you quip, a cigarette dangling from your mouth. The cherry ignites on every breath, smoke erupting in tendrils that hug each word.

He answers with a laugh, turns and squints back at you with one eye. Almost as if he was expecting you to ask.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? Could say the same to you.”

You stop in front of 17, hand over your brow to shield from the sun that’s winding its way down, getting ready to tuck itself in for the night. There’s nothing that touches your tongue that doesn’t sound exactly like a fuck yes. So you don’t say anything.

“Enjoy your sauna,” he chuckles over his shoulder, passing you with his towels on the way to Room 20.

—

Led Zeppelin filters out through the radio, half-static, half-electric. Your legs are crossed in the air behind you, and you’re posted up face down on the bed, kicking along to the beat while you flip through whatever Cosmopolitan someone left behind in a drawer.

Someone raps a few times on the door, and if it’s a repairman, they’re getting their fucking dick sucked.

You army-roll off the flowery duvet, abandoning a how-to on finding your g-spot, and you peer through the peephole.

Your breath hitches on a soft swear.

When you open the door, you see Blue T-Shirt standing there, skin creasing around his eyes slyly. An unopened beer hangs and swings from his restless fingers. He offers it up wordlessly, the butt of it pointed at you.

It’s ice-cold and slippery to the touch, erupting goosebumps on your forearm. Saliva coats your tongue, and you don’t think it’s the thirst for alcohol, but maybe the tall drink of water. 

“Um… thanks?”

“Figured you’d either be dead by now or parched,” he says smugly, and it’s velvet to your ears.

“Oh. Yeah, thanks. I got the fan to work at least,” you mutter, jerking your thumb vaguely behind you.

“Listen, uh —”

He’s rubbing the nape of his neck, and you catch the way the network of muscles flex from his elbow to the seam of his armpit. He looks like he’s in pain, struggling with the fit of a puzzle piece into something rough and jagged.

Something he shouldn’t be trying but has to see it through, exhaust it until it’s definite one way or the other.

You just squint, sucking in the corner of your lip between your teeth. You nearly grin, but it’s much more fun to watch than to connect the dots for him.

“A/C works in my room, so ‘f you wanted to… y’know,” he trails off, not even sure in his own offer. “No pressure. It’s hot as hell outside, don’t want you t’get heat stroke ‘f I can help it.”

This kind of approval you like. This kind that sizzles girl-honey between your legs, winning it from a man that’s playing to earn, not to cheat.

“I try not to make a habit out of going into motel rooms of guys I don’t know the names of,” you harp sweetly. But it might as well be a done-deal.

“D’you make a habit outta accepting beers from ‘em?”

You smile. Typically, yes.

“Joel.”

His hand shoots out, strong and suggestive. Fingers like alligator teeth that’ll grip you, hold you under until you thrash. 

And you pluck your cigarettes and gifted liquor bottle from the bed, arms full when you carry them down to Joel’s room.

—

You’re sprawled on the full-size bed next to his, head propped up on hand propped up on elbow.

You’ve been trading your little fist of bourbon back and forth, swapping stories in the same way. Somehow, you fall into it easy like old friends, and it’s nice to follow someone’s lead instead of keeping one step, three, seven steps ahead. Arm outstretched to the door knob, feet ready to break into a run at the change in tone, blackening of pupils.

Without meaning to, you’ve wordlessly agreed that the person in possession of the bottle has the proverbial mic, and they swig to help with details and theatrics. It’s counter-productive in flow, but it makes you laugh when Joel exaggerates the story he’s telling on purpose, reaching out to pass it back and suddenly yanking it back, remembering a shade of gray or a funny expression.

Your knuckles keep zapping each other, brushing a little longer than the time before. There’s no numbness to consensual touch.

Joel’s mid-40s. From Texas, like you. He came to visit his daughter Sarah at college, says she’s growin’ up too fast, doesn’t need her old man anymore. It’s a thrill to see someone talk about their own flesh with love, admiration for who she is and who she’s becoming. You find yourself leaning in, enraptured that there are no IOUs or fine-print that you know to come with a parent’s love.

Mentions of his stubborn brother Tommy who he works with and who just can’t stop getting into trouble. The unspoken guilt that maybe he could be the one to keep him out of jail if he tried harder. It doesn’t work that way, and you tell him so.

You tell him about your dad when he asks about your life, your story, and you don’t know why you do but maybe you know exactly why. No one ever gets close enough to ask, so it comes leaking out of the corners of your mouth.  

You’ve never told anyone, not even your diary, not even the guidance counselor who slipped a note to your fifth grade teacher and pulled you out of class. Shaky fingers, shaky limbs when they asked if they could roll up your sleeves just to see and you said no. 

Crying because you knew your dad wouldn’t let you go back. Not to school, not to your friends.

You omit the nitty-gritty details, but Joel gets the gist. Swigs his share of the liquor a little too angrily with tight lips. Not like your dad does, but you don’t miss the irony of it all.

He holds anger for you, on behalf of you. It simmers as he listens to you in patient silence, coming to a boil at the bad parts when he gets up and starts walking lines in the shitty carpet. Pretending to look outside in interest at his truck parked at the end of the lot, but gripping the curtains until you can see every expanse of bone in his hand.

You don’t need this from him. It’s a hurt you’ve wedged between the pages of a book and doused in flames of acceptance long ago. But it spreads from your toes to your ears, the burn of someone feeling like this. For someone like you.

He finally settles down in an armchair by the window, a funny corduroy thing that would probably light up under a blacklight on one of those crime shows. Legs parted, a warm stare on the way you take up space on the bed. Facing him comfortably, your vision buzzing around the edges. A loose smile shared as if this room was meant for the two of you all along.

“So, what’s your plan?” Joel’s humming, his words getting lost in an echo of the bottle neck.

You don’t have one. Can’t have one when you have nowhere to go but gone.

It stretches on and on between you — a mouth opened and closed too many times on possibilities. If you admit to it, you end up with pity or an upper hand dealt to a stranger. You can’t afford to owe anyone a favor, nor can you front the cost of needing one.

But you’re so tired.

“Dunno. I’ll figure it out.”

“You got enough time for that?”

And you know what he means. Enough time in the motel, enough time before you’re a thief at wit’s end, doing anything for survival. He doesn’t need to ask to know you don’t have a destination, some relative waiting for you in a California dream.

You’ve excused yourself to the bathroom, soft radio bleeding in under the door, arms braced on the sink, all glossy eyes.

You want him, bad. But he won’t make the first move, won’t take advantage of what isn’t his and what others before him took without asking. You’re a pawn, entitled to the first move. The rejection would kill you, but not knowing would be worse.

He could hold you soft, give you something to think about when tomorrow rips you both in opposite directions.

When you pull open the door, Joel’s frozen in mid-stride towards you, like he’s just made up his mind about something.

He straightens but he’s still. Afraid of moving too fast, saying too much, scaring you into flight. Out of the unlocked cage of his room — something he did on purpose, because he doesn’t expect anything from you and wants you to know he doesn’t.

You meet him in his dusty shag quicksand. You take his wrist in your hand, kiss the thrum of life in the dip where veins meet palm. An offering.

Joel looks like he’s in pain, like what you’re doing is excruciating and thorny. The front of his jeans strains. He’s searching you for any hesitation, any obligation because he did something kind. He knows what currency you feel the need to pay in, and this isn’t that.

“Please,” you whisper simply. And he nods, accepting, succumbing.

There’s a careful meeting of lips, wanting to do it the right way, in the right order. When you push your tongue in, used to the pace of animals, he just holds your face and slows you down. It’s languid, his mouth showing you what sweet and gentle can taste like. Your tongues take their time, and your hands slip beneath the hem of his shirt, all ribbed muscle with a sprinkling of hair.

He shudders against the lightness of your feather-fingers.

Joel’s hands are peeling your shirt off, his thumbs resting to press against pillowy hips. He’s not letting your lips go, something like impatience stirring in you. 

Doesn’t he want to fuck you hard? Fuck you fast and selfish?

Isn’t there a catch?

He’s taking his shirt off now, up and over. Carved by Michaelangelo, thrown up on a ceiling in a library book you read once. You’re touching him in reverence, but not letting yourself learn too much of him.

His eyes are molten. Joel walks you back to the edge of the bed, scratchy quilt tickling your thighs when you fall back on it. You start to pose yourself, angles that make you look more desirable, pliable. But he’s not paying attention to that, just unbuttoning your shorts, kissing the jut of every curve and permeating down to the bone, punching out a soft groan when he slides the denim off and sees the shining ambrosia that’s waiting.

He’s kneeling, tugging you down to meet his waiting mouth. And you’re just breathless, flinching when he pulls you apart, guiding your legs over his shoulders and wasting no time devouring you. Your legs, his bib.

Joel’s tongue flicks through the shell of you, teasing you in alternates of quick and slow, starving and full. It feels like a slice of heaven. 

You pitch out a tangled gasp, hands instinctively moving to knot in his hair. Anything to hold onto, a different kind of grounding.

“So wet f’me,” he vibrates lowly into you, all husk. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

He sinks a middle finger into you, and you’re keening, hips canting and unable to stay glued to the mattress. You feel him smile against your cunt, just pressing his forearm across your lower half to keep you still.

Joel’s twisting and working into you, onto you, and you’re so fucking close from just this — a tiptoeing to the edge that grows longer, more erratic in stride. He sucks your clit — pulsing sensitive, so swollen — into his mouth and grazes it with the tip of his tongue just so. Baring his incisors and closing around you in a delicious scrape like a Venus flytrap taking its meal.

You think you see God behind the flutter of your eyes.

You’re close enough to warn him, to rasp it out in the symphony of moans. His free hand reaches up to roll your peaked nipple between his forefinger and thumb, and he stretches you with an added ring finger. You’re writhing. Possessed.

He’s watching you through thick lashes. Letting your heels dig into his shoulders as the drenched sounds of you fill the room.

“Joel, please — I’m gonna —”

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he just murmurs.

You feel that little pull at your navel.

And you’re tipping in a freefall, seeing stars. You clench down around his fingers, fingers that are still pumping against that spongy spot deep inside you. Your arousal gushes, wet and sticky against the scrape of his beard. He laps you up, the sight making heat creep up your chest and wrap around your neck.

When he lifts his head, he’s high on it. Pupils dilated like tiny, round moons. Your orgasm glistens on him, smeared over lips and chin. The fur of a peach peeled back far enough to sink teeth into.

It’s fucking filthy.

Joel places open-mouthed kisses from your hip up to the center of your breasts, a trail of your orgasm shiny on your skin in perfect, sloppy Os. His breath meets your throat where he nips at you, and you don’t have time to drag in a breath before you’re tasting the saltiness of yourself on his tongue.

Your fingers fumble on his belt, practiced with years of releasing the tension on the metal prongs, the slithering sound whooshing from the loops of pants. You’re good at it, like you used to be good at gymnastics until your mom stopped getting out of bed to drive you. 

There was always a little gold for contorting your body.

He detaches from you unwillingly, putting all of his weight on his knees and shins as he straddles the space of your thighs.

You’re pulling yourself up in a sitting position, pushing denim and boxers down past his hips. Letting his cock spring free, the head a dark pink and beaded with precum. You swipe the flat of your tongue against it, peeking up at him while you soak up the taste of it. 

When you push the length of him into your mouth, ridged hard with veins, Joel tips his head back, chin to the ceiling. He groans something brutish yet helpless, cradling the back of your head. You’re seated in the driver’s seat, all control. 

It’s new, different.

But then he’s moving his hips back, pulling himself from your mouth, wiping the saliva from your chin with a steady thumb.

“Don’t need t’do that,” Joel whispers hoarsely. “Not ‘f you don’t want to.”

Confused, you knit your brows. He laughs darkly, shaking his head.

“Didn’t mean it like that, it’s — it feels fuckin’ good,” he says, awestruck. “Would just rather make you feel good instead.”

Oh.

He doesn’t wait for an answer or a negotiation. The rest of his clothes pool on the floor in a pile, and he’s climbing back over you, an anchor or a buoy in a storm.

He lines himself up at the seam of you, puffy and so wet from before, nudging the tip of his cock at your warm center. A thumb coaxing the bud at the apex of you in lazy circles.

Joel’s sliding in slowly by each inch, filling you full until there’s nothing left and his patch of hair prickles the pearl of your clit. All you can do is whine and tense around him.

He’s resting tentative hands on either side of your face, indenting the weak mattress with handprints. He groans, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t give in when you try to rock against him.

“This alright?”

You’ve forgotten how to do anything, hoping that digging your fingertips into his forearms is communication enough.

“I’m gonna need a yes, baby.”

You feel around in the dark for the tether back to your body, and it jerks you like a marionette, giving him a nod.

“Yes. Fuck.”

That’s enough. He’s rewarding you with a roll of his hips, and you feel like you’re on fire. It’s a stuttering, painfully slow pace at first, his mouth so close to your ear that every grunt is amplified. But it evolves into something eager, unsatiated, snapping up into you with a relentless sort of fucking.

He’s hitting that place so deep within you, letting you unravel and grow hoarse from the moans tearing their way up your throat. That pressure is roiling, the kind that you get only when you touch yourself but intensified by a million.

It just feels so right, because there’s nothing to prove. 

You’re ships passing in the night, strangers making a pit-stop on the way to nowhere. There’s no backstory, no history to make mention of. No shame in the morning when he inevitably rolls over and pretends to be asleep, and you scrub off the smell of him with your provided travel-size shampoo.

It’s not love, but it might be the closest you ever get.

The glow of him above you, a deity with his face screwed in agony. Chasing after you when he feels the tightening of your cunt, the easy glide of every thrust that tells him you’re close.

Then, you’re snapping like a rubber band. Gushing in a dripping mess that trickles to where your ass meets thigh. Crying without tears, overstimulated but blissful. Joel is quick to follow, like he’s been waiting his turn.

He’s trembling, emptying inside you in a warm flood. Groaning low and beautiful, gripping your hips to keep you flush to him.

When pulls out, tearing himself away, he’s slinging an arm over his eyes on the pillow beside yours. One hand on your leg to make sure you don’t go anywhere.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him mutter.

At some point you drift off, his arm draped over you. You open a bleary eye to a neon 2:49AM that casts a halo over the nightstand. Joel’s tucked you in, the thin duvet snug up to your shoulder. He’s not snoring but not not snoring, just breath getting caught in his throat in a satisfied, well-spent way.

It’s all too much, too pure to be real.

Before you let yourself change your mind, you slink out from under the warmth of your generous stranger. You step in your shorts one foot at a time, tugging them up gelatin legs too springy from coiling and uncoiling.

You promise yourself that you’ll take just one mental picture as a keepsake, and it’s this. A sleepy Joel who will be well on his way to a second cup of coffee on the way out of Arizona, maybe even nursing a little headache behind his right eye. And he’ll remember an apparition of some girl he fucked in a motel. The touristy thing to do, a sight to see. 

He might even tell Tommy, say you were a crazy little thing with too much baggage, but it was fun to stay up past his bedtime.

You don’t mean to do it, really you don’t, but you flip through his wallet that lays innocently on top of the TV.

If you take a little something, that’ll turn this into another one of your stories that you tell your kids born from a loveless marriage somewhere in the crevices of a future from now. It won’t pull on the tendons of your heart.

And it won’t mean anything. You won’t let it.

—

The next morning, there’s a soft knock at the door, and it’s probably housekeeping kicking you out for overstaying your welcome. Time to turn down the bed for the next lost soul. You imagine Joel’s long gone, hopped in his truck and back to a reality you’ll never meet him in.

Your fingers are slow to gather up your purse, and you’re shoving your toothbrush in from its place on the sink.

“I’ll be out in a second!” you yell in a voice that reeks of years of diner-flavored customer service.

More persistent knocking that borders on pounding. It shakes the chain in the deadbolt.

You’re yanking open the door, and there’s Joel, white shirt and jeans. And it isn’t that cushion of admiration from last night, no greeting with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Just a wolf coming to claim his continental breakfast.

Fuck.

You try to shut the door, suddenly too ashamed of what you’ve done, and to someone undeserving. Someone that showed you kindness, empathy.

But his boot catches the door before it can close, and he’s inside, slicing through the space between you. It’s not quite anger, but it’s shadowy. Sardonic.

Your shoulder blades kiss the cheap wallpaper.

“You’re real funny, y’know that?” he starts, and he’s smiling but not really.

Shrinking small, so small that maybe you’ll disappear.

There’s a tick of silence. His thumb skates to your collarbone and then to the hollow at the base of your throat. He wants to squeeze but he doesn’t, his fingers wrapping loosely around the column to fix you there. Heat creeps up the back of your neck into your hairline.

The instinct to flinch bubbles up against your joints, but you can’t bring yourself to.

“Y’think you can fuck me,” he muses, disgustingly deadpan, “‘n steal from me.”

Dread weighs heavy like lead in your stomach. You can’t stop yourself from shaking your head, still playing dumb.

He bristles at that, thunderous. You both know it’s a lie; you’re a hundred dollars richer than you were last night. His fingers briefly flex around you in a way that you’ve seen before, and horror hits a fever pitch in you.

Tears prick your eyes, and you’re putting your palms on his chest and shoving, but he doesn’t give. Unstoppable force meets immovable object, and all that.

It’s not so much the blaring punctuation in a sentence, the ticking of dynamite ready to blow. He’s confronting you with proximity, with your own dishonesty. Wanting to shake you and tell you that it doesn’t have to be this way.

Joel just leans in closer, almost grazing noses. You try to breathe around the lump of panic.

“The hell’s the matter with you?”

It’s disbelief, it’s hurt. In the same way, it’s understanding, incredulous. It’s him stepping back and loosening the hold around your neck like no one’s ever done; it’s softening and imploring.

He’s shoving his hands in his pockets, guilty and recoiling. Sorry he could even make himself look like one of them — a forced penance in the flesh.

There’s no answer that can justify what you did. Nothing simple about nothing personal. But truly… that’s all it was. A pie wafting steam on an open windowsill. Something to make you feel better about the void he’d leave.

“‘F you needed money, you coulda just asked.” 

He’s disappointed, desperate. In a tone that really says, I would’ve done anything you wanted.

A dam inside you gives, crumbling deep at the foundation and knocking the walls down around you. Words don’t come, but you shove your hand in blind into your bag, pulling out the loose bill and extending it.

Joel sees the regretful offering and your heart with x-ray vision. That you think of yourself as a doll, less valuable without her box. Used without tags. Free to a good home.

He shakes his head, the softness of a keep it barely peeking out of his mouth.

You’re skinning yourself raw, wanting another way out but having none. With half a mind to say that the next night could come with fangs.

You feel the stab of relief, and shame. So much shame.

Like a soothsayer, he foresees the coldness of a bench, the shrinking of you into the safety of an alley.

You drop to your knees in exaltation, thinking you know what’ll fix this. You can’t see through the watercolor blur of your tears, but you touch his belt with fingers that are cold to the tips.

But Joel knows what you’re doing, shaking his head no no no.

He won’t let you do it like this. He drags you up gently by the elbows. Pulls you into his chest, says stop stop stop. Kisses your hair, then your lips. You cry until he can taste the tears, until the front of his shirt is damp.

“I’m sorry,” you rasp out roughly. “I’m so sorry.”

He tells you to never say sorry to him again.

—

Joel pays for a room for two more nights, but only one — his with the working A/C.

You move your toothbrush and your bag over to Room 20.

You go to the pool, swimming laps around him in a tank top and your cherry-embroidered underwear, squealing and splashing in a flail when he swims underneath your legs and stands up to hold you on his tan shoulders.

Sunscreen streaks greasy on your stomach when you lay out together on the loungers after. Joel likes a cat-nap with his face under a towel, grumpy and tired from the sun. But he never snaps at you, never gets impatient when you ask too many questions while he’s dozing off.

You learn the pinched expression he makes just before he comes. That his right palm has hundreds of lines you can see best by lamplight. He misses the noise of Sarah in his house, of sharing the coffee pot with someone. He doesn’t like the small piling of toast crumbs left only by him on the kitchen table.

He learns that you apologize for wet, clean hair on his pillowcase, for laughing too loud. Things that don’t need a sorry. A collection of oversaturated manners that might take time to unlearn, but he promises to teach you.

He learns that you approach an orgasm with tentative toes in cold water, almost unbelieving that sex can give, give, give instead of take, take, take. He learns that you like the meeting of eyes when he’s buried between your legs, pushing your thighs apart to keep from suffocating. That when he does let you get on your knees for him, you know just the spot to caress with your tongue on the underside of his cock.

Joel’s belt is snaked under your stomach, across your hips, fists intertwined in the leather as he pulls you back, slams himself forward. It bites and creates indents in your flesh, and you don’t care. He gives you marks to love, to admire in your reflection, never ones that are ugly. Never ones out of hate over spilled milk.

There’s a dirty slap of skin, growing louder, competing with your moans. Your nails are tearing into the cheap sheets, and Joel’s so close but won’t come until he coaxes another out of you. A grand total of at least four by now, but you’ve lost count.

At long last, you splinter around him. Pitching off the cliff in a cry. Joel’s leaning — his chest, your back — and spilling deep, holding onto you for dear life. You hear him whimper in a strangle. Big, tough game that’s been taken down with an arrow in his chest.

Hot tears are flowing out of you, stuttering sobs close to follow, and Joel pulls out slowly. Seems to know why. And he rolls you over, into him, hand careful in slow strokes against your hair.  

You’ve never been good at goodbyes. Maybe that’s what this is.

Men like to say that women like you are insane, too analytical, too tear-streaked, too conscious of the way they look when they sleep. Because waking up with your mouth open, a drying corner of drool threatening your cheek is too human, not pretty.

Sometimes women like you are dead, rotting pomegranate flesh. Long forgotten in decay on the ground when the weight became too heavy to hold yourself up. And those men pick up your seeds and shove them squelching back into places where they don’t fit. 

The winters come bitter and harsh, but you’re always reborn in the spring. And without fail, you grow back fiercely into a tree reminiscent of Eden, low-hanging apples plucked and bruised and bitten into once and spit out in tart disgust. 

Women like you choke men like this with your pits, strangle them with vines, poison them with berries. They can consume, but so can you.

But then, in the ripe, cool shade of summer, you’ll have a visitor like Joel that will come with a basket and a blanket and they’ll stay and read books beneath you. They’ll enjoy your fruit, you’ll drip from their mouth and dry tacky like flypaper, and they won’t be able to imagine a day before you. 

They’ll collect all the pieces of you on a Tuesday morning and give you change to get a Coke after checkout. They’ll tuck you into the front seat of their truck, let you put your feet up on the dash, hand protective and calm on your thigh while the other steers you both back to Texas. A new home without shouting and bottles thrown.

And they’ll stay through every season.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #the last of us au #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #fire walk #my writing #joel miller one shot #motherofagony

[write-tama]

"to live with the milkman."

╰┈➤ francis mosses (the milkman) x doorman!reader

sypnosis ; reader is worried because francis hasnt been seen in a week. they decide to pay francis' apartment a little visit..

containing! ; lois stilinksy, working as doorman, gender neutral pronouns, use of y/n, francis being a little sick and out of uniform, francis and reader eat mac n cheese tg :3

authors note ; this is lowkey a slowburn-- i didnt mean to write so much D: i started writing yesterday morning and just finished this morning LOL but ya its very just wholesome and soft ^^

4.12.24 | 2.7k words

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

As a doorman, you realize a pattern of people would often come and go through the apartment. You know who goes to work in the morning and who comes home in the afternoon, and you know what days they typically go out and days where they don’t.

So, I'm not totally creepy when I say I've noticed a shift in Francis’ schedule, right? He’s not one to typically go out unless he has work in the morning— which is usually Tuesday through Friday, but lately, I haven’t seen him all week.

Nothing but the worst truly went through my mind. He could’ve been eaten by a doppel, or worse, was mistaken for a doppel and was exterminated on sight! These anxious feelings went through my head as I nervously clicked my pen. I glanced at today’s list again, as if magically waiting for his name and picture to show up on the piece of paper.

click, click, click.

Through the office window, I heard the subtle steps of heels clicking against the worn tiles. Sighing, I sat up straight and folded my hands in front of desk, forcing my anxious thoughts to the back of my head in order to continue doing my job. I looked up to meet the gaze of thick magenta bangs with eyes barely visible I sort of wonder how she even navigates through her surroundings.

“Good afternoon.” She greeted, her thick lips curling into a polite smile. I nod as I took her ID and entry request through the letter box, scanning through the documents for any misspellings or misinformation. As I carefully examined the print, I notice Lois’ lips pursing into a curious point.

“You looked troubled, sweetheart.” She noted. “Is everything alright? Besides work-stress that is.”

I sighed a little, placing her card down before looking through today’s list. I checked off Lois’ picture before turning to my request checklist. “Yeah, I just.. I don’t know. Have you heard from Francis recently?” I asked, not even masking the worried tone in my voice. Lois hummed a little, as if thinking about the last time she has even seen the man.

“The last time I saw him, he looked extremely tired. Like more tired than usual. I think he was just coming home from work? He was coughing and sniffling a lot.” She recalled. “Poor boy.. He must’ve been sick for a while.” Lois shook her head. With her words I felt like a pressure had been released from my chest. Oh, good, so there is a chance he’s alive, I thought to myself. I slid back her ID and smiled.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry, I just get worried knowing that a neighbor could’ve been killed by a doppel or any force of nature of that matter.” I lightly chuckled. Lois smiled, taking her ID before looking at me.

“You should talk to him. I’m sure he could use the company right now.” Lois suggested, but through that grin I could see that teasing smile.

I sighed a little, a little grin starting to form on my face. “C’mon, Lois, that would be way too embarrassing!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms in my chair. Lois lightly giggled, raising a white glove to stiffle her laughs.

“Oh, it won’t hurt, honestly! You never know what could happen~” she said, all singy-songy. I rolled my eyes before pressing the unlock button.

“Yeah, yeah. The door’s right there.” I sarcastically replied, a big grin on my face.

“Just think about it!” She called out as she walked through the door. I shook my head in amusement, listening to the door click behind her. I locked the door and returned to my previous slouched position.

Maybe I should pay him a visit.

My shift ended around late evening. I packed my bag and slid on my cardigan before locking the door behind me and hiding the key in a place only the next doorman would be able to find it. As I walked towards the exit of the building, I thought about what Lois had said earlier about paying him a visit. I never even really attempted to go past the lobby area of the apartment building. I had no purpose to anyway. And plus, it would’ve been a lengthy process to even request a visitor’s pass due to the security. I looked over to the doorman’s office, realizing that as of now, no one is on duty. Would it be morally wrong to go against the rules of the literal job I worked in?

Maybe.

But maybe my curiosity and anxiety could take over just for this one moment.

I walked back to the doorman’s office and unlocked the door. I placed the key back in its original hiding place before entering. I made sure to lock the door behind me before taking a look around the room again. Behind the doorman’s seat, there’s a door that leads to the stairway of the apartment complex. Its main purpose was to serve as a fire escape just in case of an emergency. Eagerly and swiftly, I gently pushed the door open, making sure to not make much noise. Once I walked out, I was met with the smell of old concrete and a spiral of stairs. I sighed to myself, remembering that Francis does in fact live on the third floor.

The stairs felt endless as my shoes clicked on the hard concrete. Fortunately, I only had to take a break only two times. I was finally at the end of the stairs, my legs tired from the endless climbly. I pushed the door open and was greeted with a typical carpeted hallway with blinding yellow-white lights that nearly burned my eyes. I sighed before trailing through the doors, looking at each number plate in order to locate the right room.

“Room 02, room 02..” I hummed to myself, just like how I would while scanning through files. After turning a corner, I was finally able to locate Francis’ room. I raised my fist to knock at the door, but the soft, soothing sounds of piano muffled through the wood. I stopped in my tracks, feeling as if my knock would disturb the perfect flow of the keys as I’m sure its song filled the apartment with grace. I waited for the keys’ song to slow to an end, the melody slowly fading out of the air and a sigh following its silence. I couldn’t help but smile, and sure this gave me enough proof that Francis was in fact still alive, but.. Something about his skills on the piano made me even more intrigued by the man.

I gently knocked with my knuckles, but making sure I was firm enough for the knocks to even be heard. From inside, I heard a chair scrape against wooden floorboard before footsteps steadily approaching me. A couple locks were undone before the squeak of the door filled my ears. I looked up and there Francis was— his eyebags were relatively darker and he was still in sleep attire with a baggy set of pajama pants and a fitting white tee.

“Oh— uh, (y/n)—” he said a little shocked to see me. I smiled a little, tilting my head at him.

“You shouldn’t have opened your door so fast. I could’ve been a doppel, y’know?” I advised. I heard him suck air through his teeth as he realized his rookie mistake.

“Mmm.. I’m sorry..” He mumbled, making me raise an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.” I said, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve been worried about you since I haven’t seen you in a while. I just.. Wanted to check if you were okay.”

Francis raised his eyebrows in surprise. It made me wonder if anyone else but me paid him a visit due to his absence. We lingered in silence for a minute. he stared down at me as I stared up at him.

“..May I be invited in?” I requested, breaking the silence. Francis blinked his eyes a little, as if he had been lost in thought previously.

“Mmm.. ID and entry request, please?” Francis teased, smiling a little. I scoffed, immediately catching on to his wittiness.

“Ha ha, very funny, Mr. Mosses.” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes. His grin grew wider, clearly amused by reaction. He stepped aside from the door, allowing me to enter. I walked in, bag still clutched to my side as I took a look around the apartment.

It was humble but quaint space. The ceiling lights were off and frankly looked like they were never used, however, his lamps illuminated a soft warm orange on his furniture. He had a small box TV and dull red couch with a small round coffee table planted in the middle. Huddled in a corner was his old piano he must've been playing earlier. Francis closed the door behind me, making sure to lock it as well. “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.” He apologized, quickly rushing to his couch where clothes scattered over the armrests. He went down a small hallway I assumed to be where his bathroom and bedroom was. I took off my shoes and placed my bag on the table that sat next to the door before sitting myself on the couch.

I sighed a little, almost drowning into the soft pillows. It almost made me question why he would be struggling with sleep if he has a couch as comfortable as this. I could see a bit of his kitchen from sitting on his couch. It was a decent size with counters on one side and the appliances on the other. It seemed like he had something on the stove cooking as well.

Francis walked in shortly after and took his seat on other end of the couch, keeping a distance between the two of us. I brought my knees to my chest while hugging his couch pillows. I looked at him for a bit, trying to figure out myself as to why he hasn’t been out recently. Not only was his dark circles were more apparent, his hair was a little longer and messier. He looked paler than usual as well. Francis turned to me, a curious look on his face.

“Is it apparent..?” Francis asked. I furrowed my eyebrows, a little confused on what he meant.

“Hm?” I hummed in response.

“That I’m coming down with something.” He chuckled slightly. I shrugged a little, leaning back on the couch cushions.

“I mean.. Your hair is messier.” I smiled, admiring the frizz on the top of his head. Francis quickly glanced up before running his fingers through his hair.

“It’s not that messy..” He sighed.

“Well, I wouldn’t know. You always got that milkman hat on the top of your head.” I laughed. I glanced over to the kitchen again, realizing that steam was coming through the glass lid. “I think you might want to get that.” I suggested, nodding my head towards the stove. He hummed a little before getting off of the couch and heading towards the kitchen. I watched as he reached the top of the cabinets, stretching up with ease. I couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders to his slim waist defined by his white shirt.

“Hey, I made mac n’ cheese if you’d like a bowl.” He offered, his voice immediately cutting through my daze.

“Oh— uh, yeah of course. I was about to get dinner after I got off my shift but here I am.” I chuckled. He nodded before grabbing another platter to make my own plate. I sat patiently on the couch before noticing the remote on the coffee table. “Hey, can I turn on the TV?” I asked.

“Hm?” Francis hummed from the kitchen. “Mmm.. Sure. I don’t mind.” He shrugged before turning back to his task.

Something about this felt so.. Safe.. And homely. I felt comfortable, despite me never even being in Francis’ apartment before. It felt familiar, and I couldn’t lie to myself and say that this is the most peace I’ve felt since the news of doppelgangers came out. I picked up the TV remote and flicked it on, browsing through the channels before find a movie we could idly have in the background.

Francis came out of the kitchen, holding two bowls with forks in each. This time, he took his seat much closer to me before placing my bowl on the coffee table. “Thank you.” I politely nodded. I took the bowl and started to eat. Honestly, to my surprise, the food was actually pretty good for a man who worked day and night. I was enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of us as we enjoyed our dinner together— something I barely saw myself seeing tonight.

“Hey.. (y/n)?” Francis mumbled quietly.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I replied, taking another scoop of the creamy mac n’ cheese to shove in my mouth.

“Why did you.. Come here?”

Something about that question made my heart skip a little. Why did I come here? I mean— I came here to make sure he was okay. That’s my job as doorman. To make sure all of the neighbors are safe and alive. But even when I heard him through the door, clearly shown to me that he is still breathing, I stuck around anyway.

Why did I come here?

“Well— I uh..” I trailed off a little, sort of lost to where I should even begin. “I was just worried about you. That is my job, no?” I said, clearing my throat. I kept my eyes on the screen, a little embarrassed to even face him.

“Mmm.. I don’t entirely believe that.” He hummed. “You could’ve called.”

Oh, fuck, yeah no— he’s right.

Ugh, Lois!

You set me up!

“That’s true..” I chuckled. “I guess you caught me.”

“Mmm..” He mumbled. He placed his now empty dinner on the table before folding his hands in his lap. “So..?”

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart beat fast inside my chest and a warmth creeping up my whole body. I placed my bowl onto the coffee table as well, and finally mustered the courage to look at him in his eyes.

“Francis..” I mumbled. He leaned in a little closer, as if he wanted to lean into my words and trusted them to embrace him.

“I.. I just.. I think I like you..” I trailed out. My head felt cloudy as a tingling sensation danced all over my skin, feeling like a little kid during recess confessing to her elementary school crush. “I've liked you.. Ever since we met. I never really said anything because I felt like you weren't necessarily interested in a relationship.. But Lois and Rafttellyn would always point out how you would look at me and I just—!”

A strong hand placed firmly on my cheek— so cold against my blushing face— pulled me in to meet those soft lips of his. I was completely silenced and wide eyed, but I knew what he was telling me. Everything in those pink lips told me that everything was going to be okay, and he liked me just as much..

I fluttered my eyes closed, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer to his chest. The TV buzzed in front of us, sputtering incoherent actors cracking jokes and delivering their lines. Our finished bowls of dinner were scattered on the table, but it was easy to tell the food was delicious for no piece of macaroni was left unnoticed. I pressed harder against his lips, letting the thought of breathing slip my mind.

If this is what it's like to live with him—

To spend our evenings chatting

Eating dinner on his couch

Watching TV while enjoying each other's presence

Then maybe I could get used to this.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

tagging ; @crybabies-heart @shypizzaperson @your-local-oc-maker @spearsillustration @mochi46106 @seraphlin @glxyaaandromeda (some ppl i tagged either bc they followed me on my old acc and just some ppl who interacted with my past content and just thought they would be interested in this fic :3

thank you so much for reading and reposts and likes are always so, so appreciated <3

#milkman #milkman x reader #thats not my neighbor #thats not my neighbour milkman #francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses thats not my neighbor #tnmn milkman #tnmn #francis mosses x you #lois stilnsky #fanfiction #wholesome

[onlymingyus]

Like We Just Met

pairing; yoon jeonghan x jeon wonwoo x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; friends to lovers, reunited friends, mild dom!jeonghan, mild mlm, flashbacks to high school, threesome, unprotected sex, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, temperature play, wonwoo is able to lift the reader, pet names/nicknames, cameos from other members -- as always if i have left anything out and its glaring let me know.

w/c; 9.8k

a/n; thank you to @onlyseokmins for proofreading for me! 

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

The lobby of the Eleva was impressive and caused you to take a deep breath. You had been inside nice hotels before but none of them seemed up to par now as you looked up at the ornate ceiling. 

You had moved to the city a few years ago after getting a job as an intern for Artistaire and just a few months ago you had been moved into the position of editor. You were on a fast track to becoming assistant editor-in-chief if you did well with what you had been tasked with starting today. 

You could hear your boss’ voice in your head as your heels clicked over the marble, making your way towards the receptionist's desk. The conversation was so fresh in your mind that your fingers were trembling around the leather strap of your bag, held tightly against your shoulder. 

“It’s the most important article of the year for Artistaire. I’m trusting you to meet with both of them and find out everything about them. I want every detail. Don’t stick to the script, Y/N.” 

The article was for Artistaire’s most influential of the year. It was not only a great honor to be picked and interviewed for the article but also to be the interviewer. It could make or break someone’s career. 

Your biggest problem was that you were given very little detail about the men you were interviewing. It could be anyone. The entire point of the interview was to go in blind with no preconceived notions about who you were going to meet. You weren’t supposed to do any research and to get everything in the article from the interview so that it reads “raw and fresh” for the audience. 

“Get the dirty truth for me. I want to know everything, from what they eat in a day to who they are fucking.” René had smiled at you when you let out a breath at her crude wording before she added. “I know how much you like the corner office with the view, darling.” 

“Do it for the corner office with the view." You mutter to yourself as you step up to the desk and give a bright smile to the pretty receptionist, who looked a bit bored with you before you even spoke. “Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, from Artistaire.” 

Pursing her lips, the woman sighs, glancing at the screen in front of her, before her lips turn into a slight smirk and she meets your eyes, reaching for something out of your view. 

“Take the elevator to the 100th floor. You’ll need this, and from there you’ll be escorted to the penthouse, Miss Y/L/N. Enjoy your Eleva experience.” 

Furrowing your brows at her wording, you take the black card from her fingers, glancing over the gold engraved lettering before glancing towards where she had directed you to go. Whispering a soft thank you, you turn towards the elevator, feeling the knot in your stomach only getting tighter. Who the fuck were you interviewing?

Stepping into the elevator, you glance around the mirrored walls before looking at the buttons that run from B1 to 100. You knew Eleva was a tall building but the idea of being in the penthouse on the 100th floor was one that you had never thought you’d get to experience. You couldn’t help but bite at your lip to suppress a smile, wondering what the view of the city would look like from that high as you tapped the card against the reader and pressed 100, listening to a soft chime as the doors shut. 

As the elevator rises and the minutes pass, you lean towards the mirrored door in front of you to check your appearance. You had tried to look good, especially not knowing who it could be that you were interviewing. The only thing that you knew was that it was two influential men. That was a broad term with an even broader range of candidates. 

Politicians, actors, affluent businessmen, influencers, authors... You had spent hours trying to go over names but the list was so long with people that you felt that their actions and accomplishments could merit the interview. 

Hearing one last soft chime, you take a single step back from the elevator door and let out a breath to calm your nerves as the elevator comes to a stop on the 100th floor. With the doors opening, you meet the brown eyes of a handsome man who smiles at you, giving you a quick once over. 

“Welcome to Eleva, Miss..." 

He didn’t know your name. Furrowing your brows, you step forward and clear your throat as you offer the man your hand, letting him take it gently into his. 

“Y/L/N.”

Your voice is meeker than you intended, but it was a bit daunting to see the long hallway with a single ornate door that seemed to loom in the distance. Was this the man who you were interviewing? 

“Miss Y/L/N. I apologize; when Artistaire set this up, they didn’t give many details. It seems like that’s part of the interview process. I’m Hansol, the personal assistant of Mr. Yo–”  

The name was hanging on the tip of Hansol’s lips when he smiled and tilted his head, thinking better of it. 

“Supposed to be a surprise, isn’t it?” 

He was charming but obviously not who you were interviewing. You smile at Hansol taking back your hand as he walks beside you towards the penthouse door. 

“Yes, it’s a silly premise, honestly but it’s supposed to provide a “real” interview experience. The idea that my editor came up with was that this creates tension that the reader can feel through words.” 

Hansol smiles, glancing over at you once again and giving you a quick appraising look before reaching for the door in front of him with a sigh. 

“Seems like it works out. The articles are always interesting. May I take your keycard?” 

You look confused for a split second until you remember the black and gold card in your fingers and lift it, handing it over to the man in front of you. With another grin, Hansol taps the card against a reader on the door and pushes it open for you, letting you go inside first. 

“Mr. Y–” Laughing and once again catching himself, Hansol lifts his free hand to rub at the back of his neck before correcting his words. “My employer and the other gentleman you will be interviewing are right this way. Follow me, Miss Y/L/N. Also, if you need anything during your visit with us at Eleva, just ask for me personally, alright?” 

Offering him a nod, you follow, lowering your eyes to your bag, ready to take out your things as you enter a large living area and your breath is taken away by not only the aesthetic of the place but also the floor and the ceiling windows, offering you the view you had imagined in the elevator. 

“It’s stunning, right?” 

A familiar voice causes your brows to furrow even as you take a step towards the windows. Why did that man sound so familiar? 

Jeonghan tilts his head, looking at you from behind as you look out the window at the view. He could tell you were gorgeous even from where he was standing but he hadn’t seen your face just yet. You seemed to have been startled by his voice; that hadn’t been his intention but he did have that effect on people occasionally. 

“My apologies; I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Yoon Jeon—” 

“Jeonghan?” 

Turning towards him, your eyes widening, you stare at him as if you had just seen a ghost. Swallowing hard, Hansol takes a step back towards Jeonghan, pursing his lips before offering him the penthouse key. 

“If you need me, sir – “

“Then I’ll call you. You can go, Hansol.” 

A smile pulls at Jeonghan’s lips as he steps towards you, putting the keycard into his suit jacket pocket. Dark eyes move over your face and body before the man you have known for years is within arms reach and he laughs in disbelief. 

“No way…Kitten?” 

Your eyes were searching Jeonghan so closely to make sure he was real that you hadn’t realized that another man had moved into the room. Hearing the nickname that you had once been called in high school by your two best friends, you glance to your right, only to take a step back in shock to see Wonwoo smiling at you. 

“I– no one has called me that in a long time.” 

Grinning, Jeonghan reaches out to take your hand, as you seem to almost stumble in surprise at seeing ghosts from your past. He wasn’t worried about the glass behind you breaking but he was concerned about you getting hurt from falling down, as unstable as you seemed on your feet. 

“Well, no one but us called you that anyway. 

It had been around a decade since you had seen either of your friends in person after the three of you had made promises to stay in touch. Graduation had come and gone and the promise became harder and harder to keep as each of you went in different directions. 

You knew they were successful. Jeonghan’s family had always been successful so it was a clear path for him into business. Wonwoo, you had seen him as the face of many brands and the star of many dramas and movies. Meanwhile, your road to success had taken a bit longer and you were still climbing. Now your climb was looking like a shear cliff face as you looked at the two men in front of you with expectant looks in their eyes. 

“Holy shit, you look great, Kitten.” 

Wonwoo’s voice was quiet but warm, just as you remembered it. He had always been a comfort in your life when you were younger and you had found yourself cheering him on with each award he had received over his years of blooming into a renowned actor. 

“Wonwoo… thanks.” 

Jeonghan squeezes your fingers with a light chuckle slipping from his lips as you start to come back down to earth. It was like you were waking up from a dream and he could see the realization starting to register in your eyes. Your fingers pull back from his as you clear your throat, your eyes dropping to the floor with a quick shake of your head. You were trying to put on a confident facade. 

“I, this is a surprise. Clearly, as the interview states, none of us knew who would be interviewed.  So this would be a biased article.” 

You were so fucked. In so many ways, you were so fucked. Your fast track to the corner office with the view was going into the lap of Karina and you could see her too pretty smile now. You could picture her crossing her legs and flirting with Jeonghan and Wonwoo the entire interview; it was making your stomach turn, but you couldn’t do this now. 

“What do you mean? Are you refusing to do the interview?” 

Lifting your gaze to meet Jeonghan’s eyes, you press your lips together, shifting in place as you try to figure out how best to phrase what you need to say. 

"I'm not refusing; I just don’t think it’s how the interview is supposed to go. The entire point is to be unbiased and raw. I’m supposed to ask you questions as if I’ve just met you, but clearly." 

Smirking, Wonwoo shakes his head, moving closer to you. There was so much about you that hadn’t changed. He had beat himself up for years for losing contact with you and Jeonghan but luck changed a few years ago when he stayed at one of Jeonghan’s hotels and now here you are standing in front of him. You were always talking in circles and you needed someone to sit you down and get you to stop spinning your wheels. 

“It kinda is like we just met, well again... High school was a long time ago, Y/N.” 

– 10 years ago – 

Jeonghan grins at you as he leans against his locker, watching as you struggle to get your textbook back in its proper place. He knew he could help you but it was cute to listen to your tiny whines. You were nervous about exams and about university acceptance letters, while he was doing his best not to let it show that he was nervous about other things. 

“Why do they make them so small?” 

“So that teachers can write tardy notes, Kitten.” 

Wonwoo smirks as he steps in behind you to take your book, lifting the organizer with ease to slip the book under as you glance over your shoulder at him. Things had changed between you and your best friends over the last year of high school but none of you were ready to talk about it. 

Each of the boys had started wanting to spend more time with you. They had started standing closer to you, touching you more, and there was always something left unsaid. 

“Thanks, Woo… Jeonghan was just watching me struggle. At least I can count on one of you.” 

Laughing, Jeonghan reaches over to pinch your cheek, causing you to pout your lips and pull back from his touch and teasing. 

“Well, you show your claws when you get whiny, Kitten. It’s cute…” 

Your cheeks burning, you glance up towards the bell as it rings and becomes your saving grace. Both of the boys watch as you clear your throat, brushing your hands over the front of your outfit, before you look up at them with a nod. 

“Anyway… I will not be tardy. See you after school.” 

Watching you walk quickly away, Wonwoo leans against your locker, giving a glance towards Jeonghan, who lets out a breath as his eyes move over your frame. They were thinking the same things, but maybe it was just teenage hormones getting to them. But maybe it was something more. 

– Present – 

Letting out a breath, you step away from Jeonghan as he speaks, only for Wonwoo to move in and take your arm, leading you towards the sofa. The feeling of being back in high school, either of the men on either side of you, made it feel like the air was water. 

“Jeonghan’s right. Why are you so worried about it anyway? It’ll be a great article. I’ve read your stuff. You’re a great writer, your editor has nothing to worry about. I know I’m not worried.” 

Shrugging as a way to agree with Wonwoo, Jeonghan sits down on the other side of you, crossing his leg over his knee, his arm draped over the back of the sofa behind you. 

“You can ask me anything. I’ll answer if I don’t think I’ve ever lied to you, Kitten.” When you and Wonwoo look at him Jeonghan grins and tilts his head, adding, “I’ve skimmed around the truth.” 

Shaking your head, you look down at your bag, now resting on your lap. Maybe they were right. Maybe you could still do this; maybe this was a good thing. It could give you an edge. When you nod, your brows furrowing, Jeonghan grins at Wonwoo, lifting his brows. 

“Yeah? Not so freaked out by us anymore? Still pretty much the same people you went to school with.” 

That made you laugh, both men watching as you cleared your throat to cover it, leaning down to put your bag on the floor, taking out an iPad to take notes on before crossing your legs. Wonwoo can’t help but watch how the fabric of your skirt stretches around your thighs as Jeonghan sucks at his teeth, letting his eyes run along the buttons of your blouse before you look up to meet his eyes. 

“You aren’t the same. Isn’t that what we just said? Not in high school anymore. You are... what do you do, Jeonghan?” 

You had known Jeonghan was a chaebol but that was such an umbrella term in the business world. He could own a multitude of things and hold many titles. His lips pull up into a smile as his eyes follow your hand, pulling the pen from its holder so you can start taking down your notes. 

“My father put me in charge of all the hotels and resorts.” 

Writing his name, you start to write what he was telling you when the scale of what he had just said hits you. A soft chuckle to your right brings you back to reality as you shake your head and continue where you left off, muttering under your breath. 

“All hotels and the resorts..." 

Swallowing hard, you glance at Jeonghan to find his eyes haven't moved from you at all. It was as if he were trying to stare a hole through you or, worse, undress you with his eyes. Quickly looking away, you continue your train of thought into a question. 

“In all countries?”

“All hotels and resorts are mine. We own 15 in the United States alone. I plan to open five in Europe over the next three years. There’s a scoop for you, Kitten. Make sure you jot it down.” 

Your hand was shaking, and you could see the nerves in your handwriting as you tried to take your notes. It isn't until Jeonghan leans in a bit closer to you to look at what you are writing that you press your lips together and pause. 

“Just…Y/N, I think would be better.” 

Pursing his lips, Jeonghan meets your eyes once again before giving you a playful smile and leaning back, lifting his hand from his thigh as if he were submitting. 

“Whatever you want, Y/N. Kitten is just a hard habit to break.” 

Both watch as you flex your fingers and go back to your task, writing a few more notes before looking up to Wonwoo, who is turned more to the side to face you, his legs crossed towards you. He was breath taking, they both were but after years of seeing him on a big screen or a billboard, it was startling to see him so close once again. 

“Have a question for me?” 

Wonwoo watches you nod, your eyes dropping back to your tablet, before you take a breath and are finally able to remember how to speak. 

“Your last movie, First Snow, was a hit.” Watching Wonwoo smile, you can’t help but do the same. You knew he had been nominated for several awards and was likely being cast from the hit. “You seemed to have great onscreen chemistry with your co-star…anything blossoming from that?” 

You watch as the man in front of you laughs and shifts on the sofa to brush his hand over his mouth. With a quick shake of his head, Wonwoo’s eyes lift back to meet yours, making you feel shy once again. 

“She’s sweet, incredibly so, but no. I do hope I get to work with her in the future but as for my personal life...  Things haven’t changed much from when you knew me before.” 

That you very much doubted, your brows furrowing as you scoff, jotting down a few more words on the iPad on your lap. 

– 11 years ago – 

“Just ask her.” 

Wonwoo shook his head as he watched you smile at the tall boy with perfect teeth. He might be friends with Mingyu but that didn’t make him want to punch him any less as he and Jeonghan watched him flirt with you and worse, you flirted back. 

“She doesn’t know how you feel and that you want her to go with you to the dance if you don’t ask her.” 

Groaning, Wonwoo looked at Jeonghan, who had his arms crossed and his tongue pressed into his cheek after saying his own peace when he really had nothing he could say. 

“So does that mean you are going to do the same?” 

Shooting a look at his friend, Jeonghan rolls his eyes and turns away from the scene in front of him as Mingyu dares to let his fingers brush over yours. He wanted to do more than punch the boy. He wanted to pay him to move to a different school at this point. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re the one pining like a love sick puppy.” 

“Says the dude who just looked like he was going to go in swinging just now.” 

Sighing, Jeonghan turns towards his locker, using his fist to open it rather than a normal civil way, before shrugging. 

“Whatever. She can do what she wants and so can you. One more year of this hell hole and I’m out of here and on to bigger fish.” 

You look up at the sound of Jeonghan’s fist hitting his locker, along with Mingyu's hand dropping from yours, when you mutter your best friend’s name. Everyone knew you were pretty much off limits but every once in a while someone got gutsy and tried. Mingyu had been feeling confident but he hadn’t realized how close Jeonghan and Wonwoo had been. 

“I–shit. Can we talk about the dance later, Y/N?” 

Watching you frown, barely nodding, Mingyu sighed, knowing his chances were slim to none now as you walked towards the two men who took up most of your time. 

“Jeonghan, what the hell are you doing? Did you hurt your hand?” 

Your voice pulls Wonwoo and Jeonghan from their conversation and back to reality, where you were standing right in front of them. Starting to speak, Jeonghan tries to come up with an excuse when you grab his hand, bringing it close to you to look over his knuckles to inspect the damage. 

Wonwoo just stays quiet for a moment, watching how gentle you are, blowing softly on the rough skin before placing a kiss over his knuckles and lifting your head with furrowed brows. You looked confused. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t like you knew how Jeonghan felt or how Wonwoo felt. 

“I’m okay, Kitten. I just couldn’t get the door open, so I got mad.” 

Glancing at Wonwoo, you wait for him to tell you the truth but he just sighs and nods along with what Jeonghan says, though you can tell Jeonghan is telling you a half truth. He was good at those and Wonwoo was good at following the leader. 

Reaching over to the locker, you pull up on the latch and watch it swing open easily, much to Jeonghan’s dismay. With a sigh, the boy pushes it back closed before leaning his shoulder against it, looking over yours towards Mingyu, who was pouting and watching you while talking to another tall boy named Seokmin.

“Minkyu is waiting for you.” 

Sighing, you glance over your shoulder towards him, offering the handsome boy a smile and getting one in return before you cause his to fall instantly when you turn away. 

“Mingyu, Jeonghan…  but you know that. Why are you so mean to him? He’s nice. He likes you. Wants to be as cool as you.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan lets out a scoff before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you towards the doors that would lead towards your next class but not his. Wonwoo just shakes his head, following in tow, his hands shoved into his pockets. 

“He wishes.” 

– Present –

“He’s not lying. I’ve probably dated more than him.” 

Lifting your head back towards Jeonghan, you feel your stomach tighten at his words. You shouldn’t care if either of them were dating. You were doing your job. This was something that your readers cared about. They didn’t really care about what their jobs were or what they entailed; they wanted to know who they were sleeping with. 

“Oh? Currently? On your way to finding Mrs. Yoon?” 

Jeonghan’s lips turn up in a smirk before a full grin spreads across his face. He can’t help but see the look on your face when you ask the question. Did you really want an answer to that question? 

“No, not even close. Hasn’t been a steady girl in my life since you, Kit–mm, sorry, Y/N.” 

Swallowing hard, you push your tongue against your cheek and hum as if that is a normal answer to your question. You write down part of it but omit anything about yourself, which causes Wonwoo to chuckle as he runs his fingers along the back of the sofa. 

“Giving the readers hope?” 

Jeonghan leans forward at Wonwoo’s comment to read what you have written down. You scoff at his smirk, pulling the tablet back from them both, feeling even more like you were back in high school with them both. 

“I–sort of. It’s my job. I’m supposed to give them a raw interview with two fascinating people. I’m supposed to show them the most intimate parts of those people and if there are facts like that, omitting parts that they don’t need to know could be misunderstood –" 

You suck in your breath when you feel Jeonghan’s fingers up your arm towards your shoulder as he shakes his head. A soft sigh falls from his lips as he meets your eyes and you try to finish your thought only to lose it midsentence. 

“I get it; I do. Your readers are horny. They look at successful people and dream about what it would be like to fuck them. But no matter what you omit, there is still the elephant in the room.” 

There was no elephant in the room. The room was clear of any elephants. Shaking your head, you try to ignore his fingers as Jeonghan walks them along your shoulder blade. 

“They do like that sort of thing. It sells magazines. So I will omit it. I mean, looking at this objectively, you are both ideal. Incredibly attractive, wealthy, and single.” 

Grinning at your reaction and your attempt to ignore him, Jeonghan glances over to Wonwoo, who had been watching you both like a hawk. It was getting interesting. 

“That’s kind of you to say, Kitten.” 

Blowing out a breath, you shift from Jeonghan’s wandering fingers to shoot a look at Wonwoo when he calls you the nickname. Now they were both teasing you. You were struggling to keep this professional and they knew it. This wasn’t some game like they thought it was. This was your job on the line. 

“Not my name, Wonwoo.” 

“Is to me, but my apologies, Y/N. Keep going with your questions. What’s next on your list?” 

Focus. The word is repeating in your head like a prayer. You look back down at your iPad and lick your lips as you listen to Jeonghan laugh softly next to you. God, he was the same and yet worse in many ways. He was still unbearably confident and cocky but now he was a grown man. 

Lifting his hand to rest his thumb against his teeth, Wonwoo watches your eyes narrow at Jeonghan’s reaction. He could tell you were getting annoyed. This was better than high school because he wasn’t that kid who lacked confidence.

"It's... tell me about an important event in your life that led you to where you are today.” 

Jeonghan’s brows furrow as Wonwoo tilts his head toward the question. That was a loaded topic. Pursing his lips, you watch as Wonwoo reaches up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he meets your eyes once more. 

“Do you remember when you pushed me to try out for that play senior year?” 

Your smile causes Wonwoo to mirror you. Of course you remembered it. Wonwoo had been showing interest in acting and it might have been a high school play but he had been too nervous to try it out at first. You could remember going over lines with him for hours before the audition, before you and Jeonghan sat in the auditorium in awe as he took the stage and looked like he had been born to act. 

“Really? That’s what led you to this? Playing Tony in West Side Story?” 

Still smiling, Wonwoo nods, leaning to rest his head on his palm as his elbow pushes into the back cushion of the sofa. He remembered looking down at you from the stage opening night and finding confidence when his voice wavered. You were more important to him than you would ever know. 

“Yeah… Trust me, I don’t put it on my resume.” 

A short chuckle from Jeonghan draws your eyes back over to him as he leans his head back, remembering the play and how much you had wanted Wonwoo to do it. You had been good at pushing them to be great; now he was wishing they had done the same for you. 

“I can’t imagine why, Wonwoo. Couldn’t be because I still have a shitty copy of you butchering Something’s Coming from opening night.” 

Reaching behind you, Wonwoo smacks his best friend, causing the other man to laugh and for you to lean forward, a laugh of your own, slipping from your lips. You could feel your heart tightening in your chest. You had missed Jeonghan and Wonwoo more than you could even admit to yourself. 

“You said you deleted it.” 

"Yeah, well, I lied. It makes great blackmail for when we are old and decrepit.” 

Sitting back up when the men have gone back to their "corners", you just shake your head, putting your pen back on your tablet, and trying to word Wonwoo’s answer in the best way you could without inserting yourself into it. 

“What about you, Jeonghan? What led you here?” 

Sighing, Jeonghan rolls his eyes—not at you but more at the answer he came up with—before pouting his lips a bit and looking up at the tall celiing. 

“I mean, the obvious answer is my father. My family led me here directly but honestly," 

You watch Jeonghan’s face soften, your eyes moving over his sharp jaw as you chew on your lips, until he looks back at you and scoffs again but this time it’s like he has made a discovery. 

“You.” 

Looking behind you at Wonwoo, you give him a confused look before he shrugs and gestures back at you, sending you back towards Jeonghan, who just smiles fondly. 

“I’m serious. Graduation day.” 

– 10 years ago – 

You watch as Jeonghan flicks the tassel on his graduate cap from one side to the other as he leans back in his chair. Most of the other students had left with their families apart from you, Wonwoo, and Jeonghan. Wonwoo had promised his mom to come home soon but after she saw the look on Jeonghan’s face, she told him to take his time. 

“I’m sure there was a reason he wasn’t here, Hannie…” 

Rarely did you call Jeonghan anything other than his full name but today called for all the best tactics. Today should be one of the best days of your lives and your best friend was sad. He had been so proud of the honor sash around his shoulders and the speech he was giving but the moment he stepped out on the stage and started to speak, he noticed the space reserved for his father was noticeably empty. 

“Sure, Kitten. You don’t have to try so hard to make it better. You didn’t do it.” 

He was right. It hadn’t been your fault but there was something you could do to make him smile. Leaning towards Jeonghan, catch his eye before you press a soft kiss to his cheek and hold on to his arm. As much as he denied it, you knew how much he loved skinship when it came from you or Wonwoo. 

A sigh falls from Jeonghan’s lips but his lips do pull up at the sides and Wonwoo’s do the same, knowing you were succeeding in what you were trying to do. He hated to see his best friend like this. It wasn’t fair. Jeonghan had worked his ass off to be the perfect son and he deserved so much better today. 

“Stop slobbering on me.” 

You just laugh, pressing more kisses on his warm cheek. Jeonghan groans, grabbing your arm and turning his head away from you, only for you to turn it back a bit too far, letting your lips catch his briefly. Clearing your throat, you stop instantly and drop your hands, feeling heat rising in your neck and cheeks as you look away. 

"Sorry, uh, but no, anyway... We should go get dinner before we all go home. We are fucking graduates. Full ass adults who will be going to university soon.” 

Wonwoo just stares at Jeonghan as he sits in shock from feeling your lips on his, even as you try to make everyone forget it had happened. Reaching up to touch his lips, Jeonghan watches you do a cute little dance in your chair before shaking his head and furrowing his brows. 

“I gotta get home, Kitten. I’m sure my dad is at home. I need to tell him to shove something up his ass. You know, like his legacy.” 

Calming down from your accidental kiss, you shake your head and reach for Jeonghan’s arm as he tries to stand up to leave. You knew he would regret his decisions later. Wonwoo follows your lead, shaking his head and coaxing Jeonghan back into the chair, muttering for the other to calm down. 

“I know you are upset, Jeonghan. You have every right to be, but... listen to me, okay? Seriously, look at me.” 

You wait until Jeonghan sighs, rolling his eyes to look at you, his face softening as he does, knowing he can’t stay annoyed as he looks at your pretty face. 

“If you really don’t want to work for your dad and do the business stuff, then don’t but it’s all you’ve ever talked about. So don’t throw it away because of his selfishness. Use this to fuel yourself to work harder and get what you want. Be the Yoon Jeonghan I know. 

– Present – 

“I ran off spite for a few years but eventually I got my own space and now I am doing shit on my own. He gave me my own slice, like you said he would. I worked harder every day remembering what you said.” 

Jeonghan smiles while watching your lips form into a bit of a pout. He could tell you were remembering the conversation and graduation. He remembered it just as fondly, maybe for other reasons but he also remembered dinner afterwards with you and Wonwoo. He remembered sneaking off with drinks and the promises that all three had failed to keep. 

"Anyway, that and a kiss led me here.” 

Writing down Jeonghan’s answer, you stop midsentence to scoff and glance up at him, letting out a breath, only to scoff a second time in disbelief. He surely wasn’t talking about the accidental kiss on graduation day. 

“Not a real kiss.” 

Biting his lip, Jeonghan tilts his head and narrows his eyes as Wonwoo laughs and puts his hands up when you shoot him another look. 

“I’m just…  listen, Y/N… The kiss was just that—a kiss. And an 18 year old Jeonghan... He talked about it for a while. Trust me.” 

That confession from Wonwoo made you look back at Jeonghan, who was narrowing his eyes at his best friend, only to soften them when they met yours. Lifting his hands, Jeonghan sighs once, trying to speak, before sighing again and laughing. 

“I did talk about it for a bit. I mean, clearly, I remember it well. I mean, come on, Kitten, you had to know how we felt about you.” 

Shaking your head, you sit up straighter on the sofa, looking from Jeonghan to Wonwoo for clarification as if a bomb had just gone off in the room. You knew how you felt about them and that they had teased you about it but never in a million years had you thought they had felt anything for you. 

“No, no, no, I didn’t. What? What do you mean by how you felt about me? “We?” Clarify, Yoon Jeonghan.” 

Jeonghan laughs when you use his full name and your thoughts start to spin in circles. The interview is the last thing on your mind now. Taking a breath, he reaches forward, taking your iPad from your hands and leaning to put it on the coffee table so he can have your full attention. But that only causes you to flex your fingers and then play with the end of your skirt out of nerves as you wait. 

“We went to the same school for four years, Y/N. We saw you every single day and from day one, we latched on to you. At first, it was just because you were this cute frisky girl with a sassy mouth that could keep up but then it was more about the fact that you were ours.” Glancing down at your fingers as you tug at the end of your skirt, Jeonghan reaches to wrap his fingers around your wrist to make you stop as he speaks. “Did you really not see it? How we’d chase off anyone else or get pissed off if you’d give any of them a chance?” 

Wonwoo shifts beside you, his breath closer than you had remembered it being when you feel it almost against your ear as his deeper voice chimes in to add to Jeonghan’s point.

“The stupidest thing we did was not keep our promises to keep in touch during university. Letting life get in the way... You feel him smile into his words with how close his lips are to your ear. “But I guess life has a way of correcting mistakes.” 

You glance over your shoulder, brows furrowed, ready to ask him what he means when you find Wonwoo as close as you had pictured. If you hadn’t stopped yourself, you would have found yourself in a similar situation that you had on graduation day a decade earlier, as you stopped your lips just in time, taking a breath before they could brush over Wonwoo’s. 

“I don’t know. This isn't—I could lose my job.” 

It’s Jeonghan’s hand that slides over your thigh, gripping it just hard enough to make you want to spread them, which causes you to lose your resolve and causes a breathy, soft moan to slip from between your lips and into the air. Wonwoo smiles just a few centimeters from your lips as he shakes his head and furrows his brows. 

“Fuck the job, fuck the interview. If you want it that bad, you can ask the questions afterwards. If you lose the job, they didn’t deserve you, and we will take care of you or get you whatever job you want, Kitten.” 

He wanted you to say yes or take that final step. Wonwoo wasn’t going to do it but he was giving you all the right answers. Whining, you try to quickly weigh the pros and cons, a lifetime of regrets washing over you before they fade away when you close your eyes and press your lips against Wonwoo’s with purpose. 

Jeonghan furrows his brows and bites his bottom lip hard. He wasn’t upset that it was Wonwoo you had kissed first this time. It didn’t matter to him; all that mattered was that it was happening. All that mattered was that you were here and back in their lives by some random chance and he wasn’t letting you go again. 

Pressing his fingers into your soft skin, Jeonghan groans softly against your hair as your tongue glides along Wonwoo’s and you finally let him coax your legs apart. He could feel the warmth of your pussy under your skirt and he was dying to get his hands on you, even if it was just for a moment. 

"Baby, you are so fucking pretty. You always have been but now, God, you're stunning. Never letting you out of my sight again, you understand?” 

Reaching up to turn your head from Wonwoo, Jeonghan listens to your whimpers and soft complaints but he wants your answer. When you meet his eyes, Jeonghan runs his thumb along your bottom lip and smiles at your reaction—the way your mouth parts and your eyes flutter closed for a moment only to open and meet his once again. 

“I said, do you understand?” 

One hand on your chin, the other caresses your thigh up to your panties, where Jeonghan’s fingers tease you, causing your body to jerk with each pass of his fingers. Wonwoo smiles while watching you with Jeonghan, not phased by the other man pulling you away from him. Instead, he turns his attention to your neck as he works a few of the buttons on your blouse open before sliding his hand into your shirt over the top of your bra to squeeze your breast, making you arch against his chest. 

“Answer Jeonghan, Kitten.” 

They expected you to answer a question and think clearly when you were not only living out your teenage wet dreams but also the fantasies of every female that knew either of their names? Pressing your lips together, you furrow your brows and nod, regaining your resolve, before letting out a breath along with your words. 

“I understand.” 

Jeonghan grins, leaning forward to press his lips to yours, finally claiming his prize while also rewarding you for your answer. The kiss is gentle, yet you can feel the desire behind it as his teeth catch your bottom lip, nipping at it before he pulls back with a soft groan. 

“Good, girl. Wonwoo, I want her up where I can see her.” 

You weren’t sure what Jeonghan had meant but apparently Wonwoo did, as you found yourself on your feet before your legs were around the man’s waist so he could carry you where he wanted you. Smirking against your lips, Wonwoo glances behind you, following Jeonghan to the kitchen, stopping to sit you on the counter, where he stays situated between your thighs. 

Hands slide over your thighs, and fingers bunch up your skirt, urging you to lift your hips so the material can be pushed to your waist, granting you a peck on the lips from Wonwoo. You watch as the man groans, glancing down between your legs, his left hand gripping your thigh as his right thumb traces the growing wet spot on the center of your panties. 

“So wet already. Did you ever think about doing this? You can tell me, Kitten. I won’t tell anyone else.” 

The teasing tone in his deep voice makes your breath quicken as Wonwoo steps back and you watch him pull his dress shirt from his pants. His slender fingers move over the buttons with quick precision so he can pull them from his body and toss them to the floor, leaving him shirtless in front of you. 

“I–” 

The words get caught in your throat as you stare at Wonwoo, your eyes moving over his toned abdomen and chest. You had seen him shirtless in school and then in ads and movies but you had never imagined you would see him like this. 

“Words, baby, use them.” 

Jeonghan smirks, running his fingers over your hair as he stands beside you, watching you panic over Wonwoo. He was still fully dressed, though one glance at his dress pants told you he was just as aroused as you and Wonwoo. 

“I did, many times, but I always felt bad.” 

You hear Jeonghan coo, then feel his lips press against your jaw as you lean your head to the side, watching Wonwoo lean over to kiss your thighs. His fingers scratch along your thighs up to your hips before they finally press under the elastic of your pants and start to shimmy them down your legs to your feet. 

“You didn’t have to feel bad. I was doing the same thing and I know Wonwoo was too. We will just make up for lost time, right?” 

Jeonghan whispers the last of his words against your ear and you can only moan out a yes to not only the feeling of his hot breath against the shell of your ear, but also Wonwoo’s tongue running along your slit in one fluid motion. 

Leaning your head back, you gasp out Wonwoo’s name, reaching your hand down to thread your fingers through his wavy hair as Jeonghan smirks against your ear at your reaction. Glancing between your legs to watch, he furrows his brows, feeling his cock throb in his pants, not only to the visual of Wonwoo eating you out but also to the sounds coming out of your mouth and the wet sound of Wonwoo’s mouth on your pussy. 

“Fuck… He’s right; you are wet. Can I feel too?” 

Slipping his fingers between your folds and Wonwoo’s mouth, Jeonghan is surprised that your thighs jerk to his touch. That wasn't your reaction to Wonwoo. Lifting his head, Wonwoo holds your legs and takes a breath as Jeonghan’s fingers circle your clit, only for you to moan and slide your hips back from his touch shyly. 

“Your fingers are so cold." 

Jeonghan smiles, tilting his head and pulling his fingers back to rub them together, feeling your slick between them. He knew his hands were cold but he hadn’t expected you to have such a reaction to them. Glancing down at Wonwoo, Jeonghan just winks, turning from you both towards the cabinet to take down a glass and moving to the fridge to get ice and water as Wonwoo’s lips press to your thighs, making you split your attention between the two. 

“What are you doing, Jeonghan?” 

“Having fun, Kitten. What are you doing?” 

Your eyes follow Jeonghan as he sits the glass down beside you before dipping two of his fingers into the ice water. His eyes meet yours as a darker smirk takes over his pretty lips and you whine, feeling Wonwoo’s mouth back on your pussy, his fingers digging into your hips and pulling you back towards his tongue. 

“I–shit. What if I can’t handle it?” 

Jeonghan bites at his lip, the smile ever present, as he finally takes his fingers from the cold water. 

“Just tell me and I’ll move them, but I’ll make it worth it. I promise… Wonwoo, lean back.” 

Hearing his name, Wonwoo groans a bit frustrated, already feeling drunk off your pussy. He wanted to make you cum on his tongue and with how you had started to moan, he felt like you were getting close. Still, he wasn’t going to argue with Jeonghan so he licks his lips and leans back a few inches to watch Jeonghan touch his ice cold fingers to your clit and your reaction as you try to close your thighs around his head and the fingers. 

“Oh my god!” 

The cold sends a shock through your body that you weren’t fully expecting and when Jeonghan traps your clit between two fingers, squeezing it ever so slightly, you feel like the counter is going to break under your fingers. 

“Jeon—Jeonghan!” 

As quickly as you say his name, Jeonghan moves his fingers and uses his free hand to push Wonwoo’s head back to your waiting pussy. You feel hot breath and a warm tongue running over your now chilled folds. Smiling against your skin at the feeling, Wonwoo can’t help the excitement he feels at working together with Jeonghan. He enjoys making you feel good, especially as you grind against his mouth. 

“See? You liked it, didn’t you?” 

All you can do is nod as you feel your orgasm on the precipice. Jeonghan watches your face and listens to your breath starting to hitch when he tugs at Wonwoo’s hair, pulling him back, and listens to your curses as your orgasm is pulled from you. 

Ice cold fingers slide between your folds and towards your dripping entrance, where Jeonghan works two into you, curling them upwards. Quickly, you forget how upset you are at him as you see stars and your nails dig into his forearm, cum seeping around his fingers as your orgasm takes control of your senses. 

Wonwoo just watches, entranced by what is happening as your thighs start to shake and Jeonghan’s fingers thrust into you. He watches as you roll your hips towards the man’s palm and Jeonghan groans your name like a soft, sweet prayer. 

“Here… I know you want it.” 

Nodding, Wonwoo leans forward, licking the cum from Jeonghan’s fingers before grabbing your hips again and running his tongue along your folds, cleaning you of every last trace of your cum. Your mind spins with what you have just experienced and watched as you find yourself leaning back on the counter, your chest rising and falling quickly. 

It is Jeonghan who pulls Wonwoo from between your thighs as you whimper from overstimulation, tears running from the corners of your eyes. It isn’t even that he’s concerned that you aren’t enjoying it; it is more that he doesn’t want his friend to miss the image. 

Wonwoo just groans, running his palm over his wet mouth and chin before leaning down over you and the counter to capture your lips. His thumb is running along your temple to push away the tears as he mutters against your lips about never leaving you and never losing you again. 

“Mm, see, he shares the sentiment, Kitten. We have to get you to bed or I’m gonna fuck you on the counter.” 

You weren’t against it but it seemed both of the men were. You quickly found yourself moving through rooms and on a large bed, then stripped of your clothing. Jeonghan was the one between your thighs now; his clothes were also discarded with yours somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom. He let his eyes move over your body in wonder as his hands followed the same path as if he were trying to imprint it on his brain. 

“So perfect… and ours?” 

In truth, your relationship status hadn’t been discussed before any of this started and also Jeonghan hadn’t cared. Now, with you lying on his bed, looking like every dream he had ever had of you, as Wonwoo slid in beside you to press his lips to the top of your breasts, he was starting to wonder if you really would be there at the end of the day. 

“Yours.” 

A single word left Jeonghan breathless. He hadn’t seen any rings on any important fingers but he hadn’t been in your life in a long time. He didn’t know what your life was without him but now, as far as he was concerned, there wouldn’t be a time without you. 

"Fuck, I need you. Can I?” 

You lift your hips as Jeonghan’s hands slide along your inner thighs and along your legs to your hips. You knew what he was asking and there was nothing you wanted more. Nodding, you whine into a moan as Wonwoo sucks at your skin, your fingers once again threading into his hair and tugging at his scalp. 

Lining himself up with you, Jeonghan shakes his head, realizing what was really happening and how lucky he was as he slowly pushes his tip in. With his eyes on your face, Jeonghan watches your lips fall open at the stretch, his fingers digging into your skin as he angles his hips, feeling your soft, warm walls enclose around his cock. 

“Feel good, Kitten?” 

Wonwoo smiles against your skin as he speaks between kisses, working them up your breasts towards your neck. Wonwoo nods along with you, feeling Jeonghan’s hips meet yours as he bottoms out. The stretch is delicious and your brain is a mixture of spinning and empty. While your brain wants to freak out over what's happening, the only thing you can do is just feel and enjoy the drag of Jeonghan’s cock as he starts to thrust into you at an even pace. 

His head falling forward as he pulls your hips up more, bracing your weight with his hands, Jeonghan quickens his pace, feeling your pussy throbbing around his length. You already felt better than he had ever imagined and he had dreamed about it many times before. He had tried to substitute the dream girl in his head before and none of them were living up to this now. There was only you and he could already feel himself tightening up from his stomach to his thighs. 

“God, baby… cum on my cock. Give me that. At least once.” 

Jeonghan had said you were theirs but just in case this was a one time thing, he needed to feel you cum around him at least once in his life. Sliding his right hand between your legs, he uses his thumb to massage your clit in tight circles while watching you throw your head back and your fingers scratch at the bedding. Jeonghan just groans your name as he feels your walls tighten around him and then the warm, slick feeling of your cum makes each of his thrusts all that more delicious. 

A moment later, you feel your ass lowered back to the bed and Jeonghan pulls from you before his warm cum paints your thighs. The sound of his soft grunts and groans dances off the walls like music as your eyes move over his body to his hand. You watch as his fists over his cock hard and fast for a moment longer before he lets out a long, soft breath. Smiling, Jeonghan feels your leg running along the side of his when he opens his eyes to find you and Wonwoo looking at him. 

“I made a mess. I can start the shower…” 

You can only laugh as Jeonghan rolls from the bed, leaving you in Wonwoo’s arms, his lips gently pressing to the side of your neck. Wonwoo’s brows furrow and a groan slips from between his lips as your fingers wrap around his heavy cock, lazily stroking him as the sounds of water drift in from the attached bathroom. 

“I’m too wound up, Y/N… I won’t last long. Shit…” 

Pressing your thumb against his slit, you take your hand away, leaving Wonwoo breathless as you sit up and take his hand, pulling him from the bed. A look of confusion in the man’s eyes, along with a slight pout on his lips from seemingly being denied, is replaced by a smile when you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you as Jeonghan lifts a brow to the scene in front of him. 

With your hand back around Wonwoo’s shaft, you feel him gasp into your mouth as you pull away from him once again and smile at Jeonghan as he opens the shower door for you, letting you and Wonwoo in first before following. 

“You are being mean to Wonwoo, Kitten...  after he cleaned you up so nicely with his mouth?”

“I’ll make it better, promise.” 

Jeonghan starts to speak but is rendered speechless when you move to your knees in the shower in front of Wonwoo, who silently curses, lifting his hand to run it through his hair. With the water running along his back, Wonwoo leans his head back into the stream of water with a long, deep groan when you wrap your lips around his head and take him into your warm mouth. 

He had wanted to fuck you but this would work too. Unlike Jeonghan, he was almost certain this wasn’t a one time thing. He was going to make sure of it, especially now as your pretty hand stroked his cock under your mouth as you moaned around him. He had told you he was wound up and he hadn’t been lying. 

“Shit… shit! Too good… babe. Gonna cum. Slow down.” 

You had no intention of slowing down. You wanted Wonwoo to cum. Just as much as he wanted to taste you, you wanted to taste him. So when he told you to slow down, instead you moved your hand and took him as deep in your mouth as you could, letting his tip nearly graze your throat. The action pushes Wonwoo over the edge, his hands gripping for whatever is closest, one being your hair and the other being Jeonghan’s arm, as he cums hard into your mouth. 

Closing your eyes, you moan around Wonwoo as you pull back to just his tip, letting the last of his cum drip into your mouth before you sit back on your feet and swallow most of it, just a bit seeping from the corner of your lips. Jeonghan stares at Wonwoo for a moment longer before looking down at you and groaning, feeling blood start to work its way back to his cock when he seems cum dripping down to your chin. 

Tugging his hand free from Wonwoo’s grasp, Jeonghan takes a deep breath, reaching down to swipe his thumb over your chin, collecting the cum, before pushing it back into your mouth and letting you suck it clean. Willing himself to not get hard becomes even harder as he curses under his breath and smiles at you in disbelief. You were even more perfect than he had dreamed. 

“Both of us made a mess of you, Kitten. Only fair we clean you up, huh?” 

Your cheeks warm as you come down from the high of everything that had happened. You look at both of the men as Wonwoo helps you back to your feet. His hand runs over your back, spreading body wash, as Jeonghan does the same to your front, paying extra attention to your thighs where his cum still lingered. 

“This is crazy…” 

Jeonghan’s brow shoots up at your soft words like a puppy hearing a new word. You were starting to panic. The shock was setting in. Shaking his head, the man steps closer, running his hands over your arms before leaning in to gently press a kiss on your lips. 

“It’s not. It makes sense. We’ve always made sense. We were just too young and dumb to realize this. We just had to meet again in a different life to see it.” 

Pouting on Jeonghan’s lips, you feel Wonwoo’s body close to yours; neither man is willing to let you run away from them, knowing you too well despite all the years of separation. You wanted to believe this could work. You wanted it to work. Sighing, you lean your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder, letting Jeonghan look at you with a soft smile on his lips as you speak. 

“I’m so getting fired.” 

Laughing at your words, Jeonghan shrugs, running his hands along your wet arms as Wonwoo smiles, leaning to kiss your cheek and hugging you tighter to him. Lifting his hand, Jeonghan pinches your cheek like he had so many times in high school to tease you, feeling your warm cheek under his touch.  

“I might be biased but I think we are worth it.” 

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

#jeonghan smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #jeonghan x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #jeonghan x wonwoo

[kierahn]

yandere prince x butler m reader

TO DEFY HIM. [ y ! prince x m ! butler reader ]

yandere! prince x butler! male reader

[ nsfw, minors dni. ]

warnings:

noncon elements

blackmailing/threatening

exhibitionism

slight gore

general yandere behaviour

DEAD DOVE ELEMENTS (in very big and bold letters. please proceed w/ this warning in mind.)

request here.

i'm not sure if anon wanted nsfw or not, but i decided to include it anyways. sorry if you didn't want any nsfw with your request anon.

× your family had continuously served the royal family for generations which meant that you were fated to do the same someday. you met the young prince back when you were still in training. he was three years younger than you which made you view him as if he was your younger brother.

× he had always been the timid one out of all the other princes which made him the black sheep of the royal family. he was barely given any attention from his own family and the servants. it was a pitiful sight watching everyone neglect him simply because he refused to speak up like the rest of his brothers.

× so you decided to step in. you became a source of light for him; like the light found at the end of a dark tunnel, a breath of fresh air. you made him feel seen for once.

× as you two grew together, so did the young prince's obssession towards you. you were eventually assigned (at his request) to be his personal butler at the age of sixteen. his main rule ? never leave his side.

× at first, you disregarded the obvious hints of his growing obssession, claiming that it would eventually fade once he meets more people. he was only thirteen that time, you figured that he needed time to adjust with other people.

× however, this theory of yours was disproven when he turned 21. his obssession with you only grew with time and more rules were implemented over your head. it had gotten to the point where you started to feel both isolated and suffocated.

× you were restricted from talking to the other servants, restricted from sleeping in a different bedroom other than his own, restricted to say no to his orders, and many more. he was basically molding you into his ideal, obedient puppet.

× but then he drew the last straw when he decided to restrict you from contacting your family. that was when you finally decided to cut ties with him, unconcsiously snapping and raising your voice at the young prince.

× "you dare raise your voice against me ?" caine's dark eyes turned cold. you turned on your heel to storm out of the room after hearing his indifferent reply, frustration clouding your judgement. you seem to have forgotten that this was the prince you were taking out your anger on.

× before you could step out of the room, your path was blocked by two knights entering the room with your parents held captive in their grip. you stared at your parents with wide eyes before snapping your angered gaze towards caine for some sort of explanation. however, your anger subsided as soon as you saw the look on the prince's face, realizing that you were now treading on eggshells.

× it was a clear threat. no words needed.

× "your highness, please–" you frantically pleaded. caine had ordered you to willingly give yourself up and to pledge your loyalty to him in exchange for your parent's safety. as expected, you agreed to his conditions with little to no hesitation, desperate to keep your parents alive and unharmed.

× "they don't need to be here ! send them away– hng.. hah ~" caine ignored your words as he worked his way through your uniform, slipping off your vest and unbuttoning your blouse with haste. he attacked your neck with kisses, his other hand trailing through your bare skin, eliciting soft whimpers from you.

× the guards stood by the door, keeping your parents still and forcing them to watch the scene as ordered by caine. he wanted to make a point; wanted them to watch him take you, their beloved son.

× you continued to beg for caine to send your parents away before continuing, even as he stuck his finger inside your hole, you cried out for him not to do it in front of your parents. you could only look away in shame as you felt their stares on you and the prince, holding your arms over your tear-filled eyes as the pleasure eventually settled in after he was three fingers in.

× you felt guilty, knowing the fact that you got hard at the thought of being watched as you were pounded into roughly by the prince. you couldn't do anything but apologize repeatedly. ".. nhg.. a, am– sorr..y ! hng~ m..om, da..d." you sounded so broken as your moans and sobs mixed together to form a sweet sound.

× caine leaned in to capture your lips into a heated kiss as he thrusts himself deeper into you, not stopping a single second. the sounds of skin slapping against each other, your muffled moans, and your parents' sobs were the only sounds that filled the room.

× out of rage for putting you in such a humiliating situation, you made the mistake of harshly biting down on caine's tongue when he tried to slip it inside your mouth, making the prince stop his movements and pull away from you with a bleeding tongue. he sent you a harsh glare, his hand shooting out to grab a fistful of your hair.

× "are you testing my temper, y/n ?" he hissed angrily, blood dripping down his chin from the bite. "perhaps you want to be punished." he says lowly, a slight growl in his voice before facing the guards that were holding your parents in place. his eyes glowered towards your father's look of terror. "cut off the father's tongue, and do it slowly." he ordered coldly, emphasizing the last word.

× your eyes widened as soon as you hear your father's scream, realizing that you've made the mistake of defying the prince. you tried to push caine off of you, struggling under him as you yelled out towards the guard that carried out the order. "NO !! Stop, dad — PLEASE STOP IT !!"

× you were pushed back down to lay on your back, your wrists pinned above your head. caine resumed to drive his cock into you, with more force this time. your sobs and moans filled the room along with your father's scream and your mother's pleads for the guards to stop.

× you felt a knot form in your lower abdomen, indicating that you were close. after a few more thrusts, you both reached your climax at the same time. your chest rose up and down rapidly, trying to catch your breath. you cast your hazy gaze towards your parents after you felt caine pull himself out from inside of you, his load slowly trickling down your thigh. the last thing you saw was the guards releasing your parents from their hold, your mother rushing over to your father's side as he held onto his bleeding mouth.

× your chin was gently moved to face the prince who hovered above you which snapped you back to your senses, his gaze soft; a contrast to his cold-hearted actions. "remember this moment, or else i'll have to remind you again about what happens when you try to leave me."

#male reader #yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male x male reader #kiahndere #dead dove do not eat

[itsgiovanna]

private but not a secret

pairing: fem!reader x lewis hamilton (lh44)

type: instagram a.u

summary: you're a very famous actress and is keeping a private relationship with lewis hamilton, you've been together before but things didn't work out. although, there’s a saying that goes: what's yours will find you. maybe they find each other, maybe not. who knows? destiny makes the move.

notes: this is my first instagram a.u, i hope you love it as much as i did 🤍 :)

warnings: fluff, cursing.

face claim: jasmine tookes

liked by sydneysweeney, lewishamilton, lilycollins and 10,987 others.

swarovski as we celebrate our 128th year in the business, we’re pleased to announce that the 3x emmy award winner, y/n/l/n, as our new ambassador. 🩵

view all 4,578 comments

yourusername happy to be part of it 🤍☺️

user1 she’s so gorgeous i can’t 😭🥺

user7 LOVE OF MY LIFE

yourinstagramupdates mother is mothering 🥵

user3 wait…. is that an engagement ring?

↳ lovingyourinstagram I JUST NOTICED IT

↳ hater6 she better not be back with lewis 🙄🤮

↳ hater4 i hate her lmao

↳ user2 you don’t even know her stfu

liked by zendaya, lewishamilton, florencepugh, shaymitchell and 847,560 others

yourinstagram thank you, @BritishVogue! it was an honor to be part of the october issue 🤍

view all 88,653 comments

zendaya 😍😍😍

liked by the author

florencepugh i miss you, hottie! ❤️

↳ yourinstagram miss you, flo 🥺💖

user5 STUNNING

user10 can i be you when i grow up?

user2 please hit me in the face with a baseball bat

carmenmundt gorgeous 🤎

↳ yourinstagram see you sunday 🤍

↳ carmenmundt can't wait!

↳ yourinstagram added to their instagram stories

liked by yourinstagram, carlossainz, georgerussel, charlesleclerc and 809,687 others

lewishamilton there's no place like home. 🇬🇧

view all 56,784 comments

georgerussel looking good for the lady

↳ lewishamilton always, mate.

↳ user44 GEORGE RUSSEL WHAT IS THIS

↳ user35 did he just referred to that girl? 🤨

↳ user6 you mean his gf lol

yourinstagram the necklace would look better on me, tho. 🤍

liked by the author

↳ lewishamilton come to the gp and i’ll give it to you 😉

↳ yourinstagram we’ll see…

↳ user 32 WHAT IS GOING ON OMG

↳ user 1 i hope they got back together 😭😭❤️‍🩹

↳ roscoelovescoco missing's my mom's ❤️

liked by the author

↳ user27 get off roscoe's account lewis

↳ danielricciardo IS THIS SOFT LAUNCHING

liked by the author

liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo, chloegracemoretz and 486,432 others

yourinstagram just got to do the hot laps with mercedes at the british grand prix! thank you @f1 💜

view all 59,543 comments

georgerussel finally, lewis wouldn't shut up about it. anyway, it was good to see you 😄

↳ yourinstagram good to see you too, george!

danielricciardo still on the soft launch...

↳ yourinstagram 🤫🤫🤫

lewishamilton 💜

liked by the author

↳ yourinstagram 🥹💜

user34 OMG IS THIS REAL

user5 i love them 😭

user8 not george exposing their relationship lmao 💀💀

mercedesamgf1 welcome to the family 🤍

liked by the author

heidiberger how can you never look ugly? ugh, i hate you.

liked by the author

user67 this is too much i'm gonna pass out

user82 she had the privilege of being the passenger princess of SIR LEWIS HAMILTON 🫠

anyataylorjoy 🩵🩵

liked by lewishamilton, charlesleclerc, pierregasly, mission44 and 647,432 others.

yourinstagram i couldn't be more proud of you, @lewishamilton. congratulations on @Almave! 🤍🥃

view all 50,435 comments

lewishamilton you're something else ❤️

liked by the author

↳ yourinstagram 😍

pierregasly this is good advertising

↳ georgerussel he probably begged her to post it

↳ lewishamilton really, mate?

↳ user58 THE OFFICIAL SOFT LAUNCH

user9 i just need one picture of them together, ONE!

user12 hope they post something together soon 😭

user87 what’s written on her necklace?

↳ user5 it looks like two letters? “m” and “n”? idk, i’m confused 🤔

liked by yourinstagram, zendaya, danielricciardo, georgerussel, carlossainz55, and 793,567 others

lewishamilton every day in the motherland is more beautiful than the last. much love from us, kenya. 🇰🇪❤️

lewishamilton tagged yourinstagram

view all 89,567 comments

yourinstagram it was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life, happy to share it with you 🤍

liked by the author

↳ lewishamilton always, love ❤️

danielricciardo hard launch 🤭

user76 I'M GONNA PASS OUT RN

fencer 😍

user1 this just made my day omg

user59 oh to be her :(

liked by lewishamilton, sebastianvettel, valtteribottas, charlesleclerc, georgerussel, zendaya, mickschumacher and 3,567,987 others.

yourinstagram one month ago, this happened… i'm the happiest woman in the world, you've stolen my heart in every possible way and i'm forever grateful for you, @lewishamilton. i can't wait to continue writing our story, my love. i love you, endlessly 🤍💍

view all 309,876 comments

lewishamilton I promise it'll be a thrilling ride, baby. i love you, forever.

liked by the author

georgerussel congratulations, guys! 💙

roscoelovescoco mom's and dad's 😍

sebastianvettel ❤️

naomi 🥰😍

serenawilliams the best couple there is ❤️

mercedesamgf1 future mr. and mrs. hamilton 🖤

user4 SHAKING CRYING THROWING UP

user67 imagine their babies 😭😭😭😭

user2 OMGGGGG

user8 the best day of my fucking life!!!!!!

valtteribottas when can i babysit your kids?

↳ danielricciardo get in line, mate

susiewolff i'm so happy for you two ❤️

mickschumacher congratulations 😇🤍

landonorris aw ❤️

liked by yourinstagram, georgerussel, mercedesamgf1, fencer, zendaya, mickschumacher, charlesleclerc and 5,897,320 others.

lewishamilton three months ago on 7.9.23 at exactly 10:34P.M we welcomed our little girl to the world, mia nancy hamilton. it's been emotional and incredible at the same time, y/n you're amazing and mia couldn't have a better momma, i love you, darling. altought we're very happy to share the news with you all, we kindly ask for privacy at this moment. ❤️

view all 765,243 comments

yourinstagram thank you for everything, love. i will always be by your side, i'm so happy that it gets to be the three of us now. mia is extremely lucky for having a caring, loving and admirable daddy like you, @lewishamilton. i love you more than my words can express, can't wait to have you home 🤍

↳ lewishamilton i love both of you, baby! calling in a few ❤️

↳ yourusername 🤍🤍

georgerussel missing little mia 💙

↳ yourursername we miss you, uncle george!

sebastianvettel beautiful family 😊❤️

zendaya omg 😍😍

mercedesamgf1 ❤️🥺

pierregasly congratulations!!!

heidiberger auntie heidi loves baby mia 🥹

danielricciardo can i babysit?

↳ yourusername maybe...

user4 OMFG SHE'S SO CUTE

user6 i fucking KNEW IT 😍😍

user1 lewis was meant to be a girl dad

user8 imagine her wearing a little mercedes suit 😭

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x y/n #mercedes amg f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton instagram au #formula 1 instagram au #formula 1 fanfic

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, masterbation (m & f), p in v (alluded to), Dark!Coriolanus, Young Politician!Coriolanus, Secretary!Reader

This one got away from me so it's a bit long. Whoops...

You're at your desk, logging into your computer to start the day whenever the door to the office opens and in walks your boss. Senator Coriolanus Snow. One of the youngest Head Gamemakers and Senators in the history of Panem. He's only 24 years old and he's already so successful.

Crazy, right?

Your older brother was in the same graduating class as him at the Academy. Rein was a slacker that wasn't in the top 24 while Coryo- uh Coriolanus- was the top student, won the Plinth prize, and even did a short stint as a Peacekeeper to serve the greater good of the country (like his father General Crassus Snow did before him) before attending the University as a double major in Political Science and Military Strategies. Oh and while attending the University he interned under Dr. Gaul, became an Assistant Gamemaker, and even became the Head Gamemaker himself when Dr. Gaul died in a tragic lab accident involving her mutts.

And he did all of that by age 20.

Age 20!

After graduating from the Academy, Rein was shoved into the Peacekeepers by your father, retired Colonel Javanis Halvir. Your brother was sent to 8 and he complained in all of his letters about it. Once he was eligible to take the Officer's Aptitude Exam, your father had ordered him to sign up. So, Rein took the test and became an officer. He got assigned to PK Base D-12.

And that's what your older brother accomplished by 20. Oh and he also knocked up a local barmaid from the Hobb, causing your father to have a stroke. Your mother found it very comical.

And then both of your parents told you that you needed to redeem the family name, blah blah blah, and pushed you to be the top student in the Academy. So, of course you ended up in the top 24. And you mentored a tribute, a 17 year old boy from 7, that won. He was very proficient with an ax. You didn't have to do too much mentoring, he basically just hacked everybody to bits…

But you still won the Plinth Prize anyways. And during the ceremony for the prize, instead of Strabo Plinth handing you over the Plinth Prize it was his heir instead.

Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow.

After handing you the prize he had asked you to have a glass of posca with him, causing your mother to glare angrily at the interaction. Your father on the other hand was ecstatic that Coryo-uh Coriolanus- wanted to talk to you. He served under General Snow in 12; thought that Coriolanus was a man cut from the same cloth as his father.

Anyways, once you and Coriolanus Snow got to talking he admitted that he was going into politics and would need a personal secretary; an assistant per say to help him with his day to day tasks such as scheduling meetings, etc. and much to your surprise, he offered you the job.

That was a couple of years ago.

So, yes, that's how you got your job. And you really liked your job. It wasn't that hard to do plus it made you feel important that such an accomplished and powerful man trusted you to manage his life.

If you only knew that Coriolanus, who's been insisting that you call him Coryo for roughly a year now, has been lusting after you since he saw you in a cute dress that hugged your body just right when he presented you the Plinth Prize 2 years ago. Also, your boss is a dark soul. A cold man. But he does have a soft spot for you.

And only for you.

Which is why he greets you with a wide, manic smile that makes the corners of his baby blues crinkle. “Good morning, Y/N.” The platinum blonde senator says while crossing the room, heading to your desk.

“Good morning, Senator Snow.” You politely smile, pulling up the excel document in order to print out the day's schedule for your boss. And talk about your boss, he's holding a bouquet of white roses in one hand and a tray of coffee along with a pastry bag in the other as he stops at your desk.

Coriolanus sets everything down, only to grab the vase on the corner of your desk and bring it over to the trash. All the while saying, “I brought you some fresh roses, courtesy of Grandma’am’s rooftop garden, to replace the wilted ones on your desk.”

The blonde politician did that every Monday for you. He brought fresh flowers for your office vase. A vase he gifted you for your one year work anniversary last year.

Dumping the contents of the vase out in the trash can, Coriolanus gestured to the coffees and brown paper bag on your desk, only to explain, “The barista at the coffee shop got my order wrong, so I had to do a second order, but since I already paid for the wrong order I figured I'd give it to you.”

“Oh, thank you, Coriolanus, Sir.” You simply smiled, grateful for the free coffee. You were going to put a pot on in the break room as soon as you printed out Snow's schedule, but getting an unexpected cup of coffee’s always nice.

Perhaps you'll pay it forward and treat him to coffee tomorrow. The gods know that you have his coffee order memorized.

It's black, just like his soul, with a couple of sugar packets. Not Splenda, not Sweet ‘n’ Low, not Truvia, but real sugar made from sugar cane grown down in 11. Oh and he always has a chocolate filled croissant too.

You also know his afternoon tea order by heart along with his dinner orders from a handful of takeout places he prefers. Hell, you even know his liquor order for after hours meetings. But it's your duty to know those things since, after all, you're his personal secretary.

Literally his right hand woman.

“Darling, how many times have I told you to, please, call me Coryo.” Your boss shook his head at you while bringing the empty vase to the nearby bathroom to fill up with water.

It must've been at least a hundred times by now, maybe more. But it felt weird to you calling your boss such a personal sounding nickname. You're both professional adults, if you call him by his name it should be Coriolanus. If not then you'll just refer to him as his title, since he's your boss.

“You know I can't call you Coryo, Coriolanus. It's not proper; you're my boss.” You remind the senator, who's dressed to the nines today in a perfectly tailored three piece black suit- complete with a white dress shirt and striped tie, as he walks out of the bathroom and back into your foyer office with the filled up vase in hand.

A vase that looked dwarfed by his large grip. “We've known each other for a couple of years now, darling. I'd like to think of us as being on friendly terms, wouldn't you?” Coriolanus asked, placing the vase down on your desk and arranging the flowers in them for you.

You clicked the print button on your computer, only to swivel your chair around to reach the ink jet printer behind you. “Yes, we're friendly, but you're still my boss.”

“And as your boss I'm now ordering you to call me Coryo.” He told you, pulling out the coffee that was yours, due to error, and setting it on your desk while you watched the printer spit out the paper with his daily schedule on it.

“Fine, I'll call you Coryo.” You gave in, grabbing the paper and swiveling back around to face your him.

“I got two croissants since I had to get my order remade, so it looks like you'll be getting one this morning, darling.” Coryo told you, opening up the paper bag and pulling out a pastry. He grabbed a napkin that was stuffed into the drink carrier and put it on your desk, next to your coffee, before depositing your croissant on it.

“Thank you.” You simply smile. Handing him over his schedule, you announce, “Here's your schedule for today.”

The platinum blonde gives you a closed lip smile and nods before stretching his hand out for the paper. “You've got a dinner meeting tonight at 7 o’clock sharp with a political sponsor.” You reminded him, your fingertips brushing, while he grabs the outstretched paper from you.

Briefly glancing over the paper in his hand, he asked, “Would you like to go with me?”

“What?”

“Dinner at 7 o’clock sharp. Would you like to go with me?”

Shaking your head, you politely decline his offer. “Oh no, I'm sorry, Coryo, Sir, but I can't go.”

“Why not? Got a boyfriend or something occupying your time?” The senator sharply asks, his baritone heavy with a tingle of jealousy.

Coriolanus prayed to every God he never believed in that you're single. If not, well he's going to go whack some unlucky bastard to free you up to be his girl. He's decided that he's tired of pinning over you; stalking you.

Coryo's ready to take things to the next level. He's ready to fucking corrupt you; make you his forever. He's going to be announcing his bid for the presidential runoff, the first step in becoming one of two candidates to face off for the presidency, and it's time for him to get into a relationship.

A public relationship.

And you're perfect for that. Coriolanus knows, without a doubt, that you'll make a perfect First Lady. That your beauty and slight innocence will be the perfect contrast to his cold, stoic, but regal stature. That you're a perfect fit for him.

Plus he's getting tired of paying for whores. Whores that he has to keep disposing of so that they can't blackmail him about his sexual appetite. Coriolanus prides himself of being from one of the founding families of Panem, from the Old Guard. He even runs on the Old Guard ticket; he can't have some disgruntled whore tarnishing his reputation.

It'd be much cheaper and easier to just get you into bed; fuck you in all the ways that he likes.

But he also has a soft spot for you. Coryo likes you. Okay, that's a lie. He's obsessed with you in such a dark, sick way that if he sees a man smile at you or get too close to you then he's killing that man. Yea, Senator Snow’s in love with you, or at least in his head he's in love with you.

It's more like an obsession.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don't have a boyfriend.” Well, you had an on-again, off-again thing going on with your neighbor across the hall from you, but since it's currently off Coryo doesn't need to know about that.

Coriolanus swore that he heard the heavens singing hymns upon hearing that you're single. Yes, now’s the perfect time for him to make you his.

“Then I'll have my driver pick you up for dinner tonight. Wear something nice.”

Once again, you decline him invitation. “You're my boss, I'm sorry, but I can't go with you tonight.”

Usually Coriolanus appreciates your professionalism and dedication to your job, but right now he loathes it. Why can't you just accept that he's taking you to his dinner meeting tonight. That he's showing you off on his arm for the entire Capitol to see.

Leaning against your desk, he gives you a piercing look with his icy eyes and tells you, “It's a very important business dinner with a political sponsor, Y/N, and you're my assistant.” A calculating look crosses the politician's face as he adds in, “It's actually, you might say, very vital that you attend dinner with me tonight.”

Well…

When he puts it that way.

“Okay, I'll go to dinner with you tonight.” You relent, causing a smug grin to appear on Coryo's face.

“Good.” Coryo grins, making his face light up like sunshine, as he grabs his coffee and pastry bag. “Since dinner's at 7, I'll have my driver pick you up at 6:45. That'll leave a 15 minute window to get to the restaurant.” The platinum blonde told you the plan before pivoting on his heel and striding over to his office. Pausing at his door, with his large hand hovering over the knob, he looked over his shoulder and told you, “Wear either a red or black dress, but preferably red.”, before opening up the door and disappearing inside of his office.

Oh, how did you get into this mess?

Coriolanus sat at his mahogany desk, going over documents for various bills that he could either sponsor or just straight up deny. Honestly, most of the shit that got dumped on his desk he denied. If it didn't pertain to the Capitol and the Capitolites then he just shoved the document in his shredder and made a note to vote no, well in the Senate it was ‘nah’, on it.

And Senator Snow was notorious for voting nah on everything.

As he sat in his office going over mindless matters, he couldn't help but wonder about what you'd look like all dolled up for dinner tonight. He knew that you had a few nice cocktail dresses to pick from, but the mystery of whether you'd listen to him and wear something black or preferably red versus another color altogether made his head spin a mile a minute. He hopes that you're a good little secretary and listen to him about the dress.

But what he really can't help fantasizing about is what you'll be wearing underneath your dress. He can't help picturing you in a bra and panty set that hugs your body in the right ways. The senator's daydreaming about delicate lace molded against your most private parts, that are hidden away only for your lover to see.

And just thinking about becoming your lover, stripping you out of not just your dress, but your soft, delicate lingerie has his pants growing tighter. So tight, in fact, that it was downright uncomfortable.

Letting out a barely audible groan, the platinum blonde stood up from his desk and went over to his door. For just a moment, he leaned his forehead against it and debated on whether or not to call you into his office; have you on your knees underneath his desk for him. But then he decided against it; locked his door instead and went over to his desk chair to take care of himself.

You're not some district whore, you deserve to be properly wined and dined first before he has you on your knees for him- choking on his cock with tears and mascara messily running down your cheeks.

Oh, just the thought of you with your pretty mouth around his large cock had said cock twitching in his pants.

Quickly, Coriolanus makes his way over to the small sofa that's in the corner of his office. He makes quick work of undoing his belt, only to tug his pants and boxer briefs down just enough for his cock to spring free before sitting on the sofa. Spitting in his hand, he leans back into the sofa and wraps his large hand around his cock.

He feels his dick throbbing angrily in his cold hand while sliding his thumb over his tip’s leaky slit. The platinum blonde bites back a moan, and closes his eyes- pretending that it's your hand wrapped around his shaft and your thumb teasing his cockhead. Fuck, how he craves your touch. Using his thumb to spread precum over his tip and down the length of his dick, he started to move his fist up and down in measured glides.

Coriolanus knows he should just rub one out as quick as possible since he's at work, but the fact that you- the object of all his fantasies- is right outside won't let him. Being in such close proximity to you feeds his fantasies and he has to have a proper handjob session.

Coriolanus has to indulge in the make believe notion that you're the one pumping his cock up and down, twisting your wrist slightly every now and then. That it's you playing with his cum heavy balls, making his toes curl in his socks and black floor shines, as the fist around his cock starts to slightly pick up pace.

Gods, he's getting lost in his fantasy of you pleasuring him with your hands, hell even your mouth- that he's sure will be aching from his cock unhinging your jaw when you suck him off- that the loud ringing of his office phone startles him.

“Goddamnit! Can't I fuck my fist in peace?” Coriolanus grumbled.

He's angry that his fantasy was broken; that he has to fist his cock faster than he wanted to.

The phone continued to ring off the hook as he furiously moved his hand up and down his dick. He bit his lip and bucked his hips, spurting his cum into his left hand. The one that he was using on his balls before the damn phone started ringing like crazy.

Letting out an aggravated sigh, he grabbed a few tissues from the box on the side table next to him and wiped off his hand. Standing up to right his boxer briefs and pants, he heard your heels echo down the hall. Great, just great, now you're on your way to his office because the phone’s ringing off the hook.

Quickly, Coriolanus tosses the tissues into the wastebin. Rushing to his desk, he grabs the phone, only to slam it down. Hard.

Hey, he made the excessive ringing stop. Whoever called should just stick to the after 3 rings, hang up and try again later rule. Coriolanus has more important things to do than listen to a phone ring endlessly.

More important things: like jacking off to daydreams and fantasies about his secretary.

His secretary that's knocking on his door and asking him if he's alright.

“I'm fine, my darling.” Coriolanus called out to you while crossing his office. He unlocked his door and opened it, only to give you a manipulative smile while feeding you the bullshit lie of, “I just zoned out reading a grant proposal and didn't realize the phone was ringing.”

“Are you sure you're alright?” You asked, only to follow it up with the offer of, “I can always read some of those grant proposals and take notes on them for you, if you want. That way you won't get so bored to death reading them that you miss important phone calls.”

“You'd do that, for me?” Coriolanus asked, feeling a bit touched by your offer. Oh, how he thinks you're an absolute sweetheart.

A perfect angel sent to him from the Lord above. And he's your golden angel too.

Lucifer, that is.

“Of course, Coryo. It's my job to help you with paperwork.”

And before another word could be shared between you two, his phone started ringing. Again.

“Oh, I'll leave you to your call. Just put whatever you want me to read for you on my desk later.”

“I will, darling.” Coriolanus smiles at you, watching you walk away before closing his door.

Storming over to his phone, he sees that the video option light is blinking. Sitting down, he answered the phone and pressed the button to turn on his video call screen. As soon as the face of the half-assed idiot that was one of the Junior Gamemakers appeared on the screen he immediately felt a migraine coming on.

“Senator Snow, are you neglecting Head Gamemaker duties in favor of politics? You never answered my call.” The redhead man with a bad combover had the audacity to tell his boss via the phone screen.

Poor soul must not value his life…

“There’s 3 fucking months before the games, that I'm designing, so there's no damn reason for you to call me and let the phone ring off the hook. Are you incompetent? If you had the common sense that God gave a mule the. You'd know I was busy with other matters and couldn't answer your ridiculous call.” Coriolanus seethed in a long winded rant. His veins were protruding from his pale neck; a red vein was angrily popping in his forehead too. But it was his eyes that held so much hate in their icy orbs.

The man on the phone screen, despite being a few years older then Senator Snow, was a complete incompetent idiot in Coriolanus' opinion. Age certainly didn't make him any wiser.

“I'm a very busy man; next time you pester me I'll have you thrown into a tank full of rabid mutts.” Coriolanus promised the Junior Gamemaker before hanging up, hard, on him.

Coriolanus pinches the bridge of his nose and slumps into his overstuffed leather office chair. Letting out a heavy sigh, he rubs his temples and tries to calm down by daydreaming about dinner with you tonight.

Your day went on as it usually does. You took calls and made appointments for Senator Snow. You also read and typed up some cliff notes for a few bills that Coryo left for you before he took off for lunch. He didn't say where he was going and you didn't ask.

When he came back from a power lunch, you knew he went somewhere for drinks cause you could smell a hint of whiskey radiating from his pores, he greeted you with a simple thin lipped smile and placed a container of food on your desk. He didn't tell you to take your lunch break, but the way he wordlessly moved his baby blues between you and the doggie bag he just dumped on your desk was more than enough to give you a hint that he wanted you to eat. So, you simply thanked him, before handing him some notes and taking the food he got you to the break room.

After lunch, the remainder of your day was mundane. Or at least it was until Coryo emerged from his office and strutted over to your desk. You didn't pay him any mind, figuring that he prolly just wanted the other bills back along with the notes you just finished up on them. So, when he perches himself on the corner of your desk, all the while suggesting, “Darling, why don't you leave early. You can pamper yourself with, say, a rosewater bubble bath before tonight's dinner. Yea?”, you're taken aback.

You're in total shock.

Your nose scrunched up, reminding Coriolanus of a little bunny rabbit, as you asked incredulously, “Excuse me, Senator Snow? You're sending me home early?” Softly, you trailed off, “To take a bubble bath…”, while tilting up a baffled arched eyebrow.

“A rosewater bubble bath.” The regal platinum man corrected with a long finger high up in the air. Leaning slightly, so that he towers over you as you sit behind your desk (and gets a nice little peek down your v-neck blouse at your modest cleavage), he tells you, “You're such a dedicated employee; I think you deserve to go home early and pamper yourself before I drag you out to a dinner with my potential political sponsor.”

And what he wasn't telling you was that Mr. Feathersworth was bringing his mistress along. Oh yea… So, technically, it's a couples dinner.

Really? He wants you to relax and pamper yourself before a dinner full of political talk? Wow. You weren't expecting that from your boss.

“My bath and beauty products are actually rose-vanilla scented, Coryo, not rosewater.” You told him, before you could even think better of it.

A smirk appears on Coryo's face and desire briefly flashed in his cerulean eyes. The imposing man favored roses; in fact it was his signature, so that fact that you used rose-vanilla scented bath and beauty products had his cold, black heart beating with warmth, life, and daresay love for you.

“Darling, you deserve to pamper yourself in that rose-vanilla bubble bath. We'll be in for quite a long evening; you don't want to be tense beforehand, now so you?”

Well…

When he puts it that way.

Sighing slightly, you gave in with, “Fine, I'll leave early and pamper myself with a bubble bath.”

“Rose-vanilla bubble bath.” Coriolanus corrected with a ghost of a smile tracing his lush lips. Patting your cheek, he tells you, “Go ahead and go, darling. I'll be fine here for a few more hours.”, before pushing himself off of your desk.

“Thank you. I'll see you later for that political dinner.” You genuinely smiled, grabbing your bag out from under your desk and shouldering it before standing up.

“Remember, my driver will be by at 6:45 sharp.”

“Oh, that's right. You need-” You began, intending to give Senator Snow your address, only to be cut off by a raised hand. “I have your address in my employee files, Y/N.” His baritone hung thickly in the air like honey stuck on a honeycomb; slowly dripping down, as he ordered, “Go home and pamper yourself; get all dolled up in something red, my darling rose.”

As you sat neck deep in your tub, surrounded by bubbles, thoughts of your boss floated around your head. You never really thought much about him, or at least you didn't til now. Yes, you always thought that he was easy on the eyes- platinum hair (you always secretly wondered if the carpet matches the drapes), striking crystal blue eyes, a prominent nose, sharp jawline, tall and lanky build. But you never truly fixated your attention on his looks, or at least until now that is.

You can't explain it, but the interaction you had with him before leaving the office had your blood racing. You're flustered with dirty thoughts. Things that you've never truly let yourself imagine about Senator Coriolanus Snow.

But now…

Well, now you find yourself closing your eyes and thinking about your boss while relaxing in your bath; trailing hand over your breasts while your other hand’s rubbing your clit; dipping two fingers in and out of your pussy.

It's best to get this out of your system now, before you're stuck going to dinner with him tonight.

“Coriolanus, I was expecting your driver to pick me up.” You gasp, hand tightly gripping the doorknob of your open door, as you're shocked by the sight of the tall platinum blonde standing in front of you- dressed impeccably in a deep crimson suit with a single red rose in his hand.

“Bentley drove me here.” Coriolanus informed you. “Now, what sort of gentleman would I be if I didn't walk up to your door to get you our dinner date?” He smirks, offering you the rose.

Your eyes widen at his words. “Dinner date…but I thought this was a professional dinner with a potential political backer, Senator Snow.” You tell him as you shakily take the offered rose from his large, outstretched hand.

“Yes, well, my darling, Mr. Feathersworth informed me that he's bringing along his mistress to Mizuna’s so I don't see why we can't mix some business with pleasure as well.”

Before you could utter a word, the door right across the hall and behind Coriolanus opened; out walked your on-off neighbor ex. Bastard was dressed like he's going out somewhere (or going out with someone). His sea-green eyes look over at you and lock Coriolanus back a bit curiously: portraying that he can't believe you're all dolled up and going out with someone so regal looking.

Deciding that you didn't like the look on your ex’s face, you put your hand on Coriolanus' label and press a quick kiss to his lips before telling him, “Let me put up this rose, Coryo, and then you can take me on our date.”

Coryo grabbed your face in one of his hands and kissed you again, this time his lips searing and hungry, before running his hand over your cheekbone and darkly smirking, “You can just take it along with us, darling. I'm taking you home with me tonight; it'd be such a shame for you to leave your rose alone on a side table all night.”

“You're taking me home with you?” You asked, finding this information entirely new to you.

At least your bronze haired ex wasn't standing behind Coryo; gawking at you anymore.

Pulling you out of your apartment and locking your doorknob, only to slam the door shut, he bluntly tells you, “I’d be a fool not to, Y/N, and, frankly, I'm anything, but a fool.” Coryo smoothly tell you while leading you down the hallway; towards the elevator bank.

And of course when you reach the elevator your ex is just stepping into it. Great, now you're going to be riding in an elevator with your on-off neighbor ex and your boss/sudden new fling.

Oh boy…

“After you, darling.” Coryo sweetly tells you, guiding you into the metal box while following right behind you.

You feel your ex’s eyes on you, burning a hole into the side of your face, as Coriolanus hits the buttons to both close the door and go to the lobby.

“Should've known you'd be cozy with Senator Snow, considering you're his personal secretary.” Flew out of your ex’s mouth as soon as he saw Coryo's large hand come to rest on the small of your back.

“Odysseus…” You chastise, nearly hissing at him.

Coriolanus snapped his head around so fast, it was as if it was going to spin off exorcist style, and narrowed his eyes at the bronze haired man next to you. “I can have you turned into an Avox for slander against Miss Y/N, so I’d mind that useless tongue of yours if I were you.”

“Coryo, calm down. My neighbor-”

“Ex” Odysseus supplied at the same time you uttered the word neighbor, causing Coriolanus’ face to turn into hardened stone.

“She doesn't belong to you anymore, Odysseus. My darling seems to have gotten tired of settling for beans and has upgraded to the filet mignon.” The senator told your ex in a smooth, but eerily cold tone. “You ought to consider yourself lucky that I won't be calling for your tongue, but I'm sure I'm we can agree to you not bothering my sweet girl anymore, can't we, Mister-”

“Odair. Name's Odysseus Odair, Senator Snow.” Your ex shot out, his voice fake and sugary, as he played with fire.

Snow melts, but fish fry. And unfortunately for Odysseus Odair he'd learn that the hard way after Senator Coriolanus Snow gets him exhiled to District 4 for the crimes of slander. Coriolanus' cold ass gives Poseidon Odair, Odysseus’ father, an ultimatum- either sign over his assets, investments, and company over to him and go into exhiled on 4 with his son or his son would be turned into an Avox for slander against you, the senator's personal secretary and girlfriend.

Coriolanus Snow was a cold ass to everyone except for you. Something that you'd come to discover in time. But right now it's not important.

No, right now what's important is keeping the senator from tearing your ex apart limb by limb.

Sensing that Coryo was starting to unravel (something that you've never seen and, frankly, didn't want to) you rubbed his shoulder while telling him, “Coryo, please, just let it go. You don't want to be in a bad mood before dinner with your political backer, do you?”

Coriolanus’ jaw twitched for a moment before he gave you a slight smile, “Of course, darling.”

Odysseus found Senator Snow's demanear changing into sweet and loving for you at the drop of a hat very alarming. Honestly, he thought it was downright scary that Snow went from menacing one minute to practically cooing at you the next.

As soon as the elevator came to a stop and the doors dinged open, your ex practically ran out of them. It made Coryo chuckle.

You and Coryo walked out of the elevator together, only to cross the lobby and head out of the building towards his car. His driver, Bentley, was standing by the black luxury sedan that was parked in front of the curb. Upon seeing you with the senator, he quickly opened the back door. You thanked him and let Coryo help you into the backseat.

“Oh, darling, I'm so sorry for not telling you earlier, but you look truly beautiful in your red dress.” Coryo told you, once he was settled in the back seat next to you.

“Thank you, Coryo. You look handsome yourself.” You replied with a smile as the driver took his place behind the wheel and pull the car away from your building.

“And tonight we'll make quite the debate as a stunning political couple.” The platinum blonde confidently told you as you rode to the high end restaurant the meeting with major political endorser Mr. Feathersworth, and his mistress, was taking place at.

Tonight is only the first of many spent at Coryo's side. It's safe to say that you're Senator Snow's darling sectary; that he has a soft spot for you. After all, he charmed you into becoming his girlfriend with the guise of attending a political dinner with him for work related purposes.

But you'd accept that dinner invitation again and again no matter what universe you're in because that dinner ended with Coryo fucking you in the backseat of his car. The poor driver nearly drove the car off a bridge and into the opposite lane of traffic he was so startled by what his boss and you were doing. Yes, the two of you still were clothed (for the most part) but Bentley knew that if he looked into the rearview mirror and saw something he wasn't supposed to then Snow would have his eyeballs pickled in a jar (literally!). And after fucking in the backseat of his car, a life was created with Coryo and you never left his side.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #thg #coryo snow #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow smut #politican!coriolanus snow #politician!coryo x secretary!reader #coryo snow smut #coryo smut #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow fanfiction #coryo snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth smut #tbosas fic #thg fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coryo snow x you #coryo x reader #coriolanus x reader

[alucarddear]

what if alucard’s wife dreams that he cheated? like she wakes up in the middle of the night almost crying and then occurs to her “oh, I was dreaming” but she’s still a little bit mad and get away from his embrace which wakes him up and he’s like “babe what’s wrong?” “you cheated” and he’s like “what? I didn’t!”. a little bit fluffy in the end with him assuring her that this will never happen because he loves her too much 🥹

+more requests that are along the same vein. Here’s to some of you seeking a comfort drabble with our beloved meow meow. 🤍🦇

Immutable Truth

Alucard’s wife dreams that he cheated on her. [She/her]

It is immutable truth. Just as the sun is bright and the nights are dark, I love you.

Alucard wakes to the sound of his wife sniffling next to him.

He wipes the sleep from his eyes and immediately attempts to take her in his arms, but she wouldn't budge. “What’s wrong? Another nightmare?”

He expects some half-slurred sad story—the usual culprit that breaks her sleep—but meets instead a fierce glare.

Her eyes are burning. "I dreamt that you cheated on me!"

His wife's remark almost had him laughing, if not for the distress on her face.

“What? Love, I never would,” he states calmly. “Hush now. It’s a bad dream and nothing more, I assure you.”

"Adrian, I-I..."

And there it is, the sight he dreads the most. Quivering lips, reddened eyes, tears that wouldn't seem to stop. Her sobbing pierces straight through his heart and fills him with the overwhelming need for anything to have it stop, anything to make her feel better.

"Hush now, darling. It was nothing but a bad dream. Come here," he says, arms open to receive her. She glares at him yet again.

“Should I be offended, my love? I would never look another way; surely you know this to be true.” But his words don’t get him anywhere. She wouldn't accept his embrace.

Sigh. "Alright, I won't touch you. But would you tell me, please, darling? So that I may soothe your worries." I hate to see you cry.

"I dreamt that y-you chose someone else over m-me; t-that you l-left me—hic—just like that..."

Oh.

He listens patiently, giving his wife time to let it all out and calm herself.

“You are constantly at the receiving end of confessions after confessions. Letters, presents, barely veiled affection right in front of my eyes, even though we're married!"

It is true, Alucard has to admit. Ever since the establishment of Belmont Village, he had been somewhat popular. There are some that have been, for lack of a better word, persistent despite his martial status.

He nearly cringed. He had an inkling that those incidents bothered her but chose to downplay them in lieu of causing a rift. The idea of ever leaving her had always been ludicrous at best, but he realises now that he should have been doing a much better job of reassuring her. He should have been firmer in rejecting others' advances.

Alucard takes her hands in his, and this time she lets him. “I understand," he says. "I have gotten used to the attention as of late that I…" He shakes his head. "No, there is no excuse. I apologise. I would do better.”

He caresses her cheeks, tenderly wiping away new tears that are threatening to form before they could have the chance to break his heart in pieces.

“I want you to know that their words hold very little weight to me,” he whispers lovingly, staring straight into her eyes as if imploring her to see through him, to view the vastness of his love.

Then, he presses soft kisses just below her eye. “Hush now, sweetheart, please, my lovely wife… It pains me to see you this way.”

If she only knew just how little it takes for her to break his heart in two. Even before she gave herself to him, he’d wanted nobody else. Hearing her crying over something he considers utterly impossible… he should have been doing a much better job of proving himself to her. If anything, he’s disappointed in himself.

It’s only you whose love and affection cause a stomping in my heart, a magnitude of which I have never felt before, he wants to express but couldn’t find the right words to. It's only you whose very voice is enough to lift my spirit. How could I ever hope to replace this feeling? To love another? To abandon you would be akin to losing everything. Everything.

"I have everything I could ever want. I have you."

It is immutable truth. Just as the sun is bright and the nights are dark, I love you. I love you and I am yours.

“There’s only you, darling. I love only you.“

Alucard goes on to reason with her. “Have I ever given you cause to worry? When was the last time?”

When was the last time? He looks at her as if to challenge her. The very notion of him looking another way was almost laughable if his beloved wife wasn’t in agony over it.

“Don’t you make light of my commitment to you,” he tells his wife solemnly. How long has he to live? A thousand years, if not more, yet all of it he wishes to spend with her. It’s almost frightening, truly, the depth of his affection and adoration for this woman. His want—his need—for her runs so deeply it’s enough for him to believe it can transcend lifetimes.

The thought of being somewhere, anywhere, without her is frightening in and of itself. How was he to even ponder it?

“There is not a life in which I would ever abandon you,” he says plain and simple. The surest thing in the world.

“There is only you, my darling wife,” he says pointedly. “In any life, in any place, I would choose you.” In a heartbeat. Always. It’s only fitting, he thinks. For there was nothing before she came into his life.

“I’m sorry…” his wife mumbles, avoiding his eyes, looking adorably like a petulant child ashamed of her blunder. It makes him smile. Silly girl.

“It’s alright, please; you had a valid concern. And I don’t wish for you to misunderstand. I am not angry.” He opens his arms to receive her, to shield her. “Come here to me.”

This time, she tilts her face toward his like a sunflower to the sun, a pleased smile now etching itself onto her mouth. Alucard places a kiss upon it and captures her in his arms. Yours. All yours.

#yoo I’m losing my touch #but anyway hope you like it #adrian tepes #alucard #castlevania #alucard fahrenheit tepes #alucarddear writes #alucarddear requests #Alucard x reader #Adrian tepes x reader #Alucard fanfic

[lhssboyfi]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTo my 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 fan.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤRicky × M!reader.

Summary: You and Quan have been dating since a few months after he debuted, and you decided to surprise him by going to one of his fansing.

Genre: fluff, curses (few), lovers, a lot of affection.

Author's note: This will be a unique chapter, + it was a request from days ago, It's a little short, but I hope you like it! ♥︎

words: +500.

"Please continue to love and support us!" Said one of the boys who was one more member away from Ricky and clearly everyone knew who you were. You were very nervous because you didn't know what his reaction would be, however your heart calmed down a little after seeing the next member, it was JiWoong, he immediately smiled at you and took your hands to caress them a little, you both had a very good talk, after all he was your closest friend outside of the Idol-Fan role.

On the other hand, Ricky would have heard your voice and made him nervous, it didn't take that long for him to start looking for you with his eyes and come across the scene that you were quite close to your friend, JiWoong, he became a little jealous now. It was impossible not to see the two of you beyond the fact that you were laughing almost out loud. You were practically very close to him, just a few meters away. A short time passed and you were already in front of your boyfriend, everything felt so strange, but you knew how to handle it and you took out a small gift from your small bag.

"T-take it, it's a little drawing I made for you, on the back there are some words that I always wanted to say to you" You said with a smile on your face, the boy would have purposely brushed his hands against yours and whispered to you in Chinese:—"I love you a lot, my love".— to which you responded in the same way, and now he was the one who took your hands firmly after having kept the letter in his pants pocket. Sadly, time was about to end, and he decided to sign the album you had on the table. Inside it, he left a small letter along with several hearts around it. After a couple of smiles before the staff let you know that you were finally done, you went back to your seat and enjoyed the last hour where they did nothing more than read some letters and dance to songs from other groups.

You had finally arrived home, somewhat tired from the posture you were doing for no more than 10 minutes between each member, however you were happy to have seen Ricky so happy. You were inside your little bubble until someone rang the doorbell of your apartment, you quickly got out of bed and went to the door, you noticed that it was the same boy who made you feel like you were in heaven. You didn't hesitate to open the door and also receive a big hug for him.

"I read the letter you gave me, you don't know how much I wanted to hug you and kiss you at that moment" Quan said after separating slightly from you, this to leave a small kiss on your lips. You smiled naively and began to leave several kisses on his face, which made him smile and let a soft laugh come out of his lips. "We're in a pretty private place, I think we can stop pretending that I'm just a fan who admires everything you do." You closed the door that was behind the tallest boy and broke away from the hug to take his hand. You turned around and started heading towards the sofa.

And so you two spent a fairly quiet night, you did nothing but kiss, compliment each other on how they looked at the meeting, hug each other and many other things. Finally, you both fell completely asleep, and you only got up for a short period to tell the boy that they should go to the room. "Baby, come on, it will be more comfortable in bed." Ricky nodded and took your hand to head to your room.

#kpop x male reader #zb1 ricky #ricky x reader #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 #x men #gayasf #mlm #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop boys #shen ricky #male reader #gn reader #zb1 reactions #ricky zb1 #shen quanrui #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop

[slowlymyavenue]

Follow and Obey

When the average person thinks of hypnosis, they tend to imagine spirals, swinging pocketwatches, and the soft droning voice of a therapist. A bit cliche, but not altogether inaccurate. Those are tools for entrancing the mind, certainly.

You have a bit more of an imagination, I suspect, or odds are good you wouldn't be here, reading this.

But that's not to say you don't appreciate a good pocketwatch, is it?

There is something useful in such a focus - be your preference pocketwatch, crystal, pendant, or other.

We're going to explore that useful factor, my words and your curious mind.

Sit a bit closer to the screen than usual, read a bit more slowly. Pacing is important.

There is no real need to rush. Savor each phrase as your eyes scan across it. Enjoy the syllables, even the shapes of the letters.

Much better. Now, the thing that makes a focus useful has to do with motion - the swinging of the pendant, and the movement of your eyes as you follow it. It's instinct, so there's nothing to it. Think about it. Something in front of your eyes is moving, and it is natural to follow it, try and get a better look.

Of course, the movement of your eyes is not unlike that of when you read text, is it? Your eyes move

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

Focus. If you were reading slowly, or even quickly, you likely found it hard to keep track of the lines above. Your eyes got caught in the movement, and it made it very easy to lose track of your place. Go ahead, try it again.

Good. Now you'll notice it is much easier to focus on my words, to exclude other things. You may feel a little light-headed. That is normal, and the entire point. The movement tires the eyes, makes you want to move them less when it's done. The rhythm of movement provides a nice hypnotic counterpoint. You can think of the clicking of a metronome, for comparison.

Focus. Feel the inclination of your eyes to fixate on my words. It is hard to look away. Your eyes want to maintain that back and forth motion, even if it is much slower now. It's okay. Don't try to stop. Relax and enjoy.

The other thing you'll notice is that as your eyes move, and you focus on that movement, it is much harder to think. Moving the eyes is a complex process, after all...it takes a lot of attention. Between that and reading, most of your brain is used up right now. It's okay. You didn't really need to think, did you?

Of course not. Besides, it's starting to feel very nice, that slow back and forth movement...that sinking feeling as your body relaxes and your mind gets foggy. It's important to follow my words.

Follow and relax. Relax and don't think. Follow and relax and submit. Submit and follow and obey.

Follow and obey. Say these phrases out loud, as you scan across this next section of back and forth movement.

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

back and forth

Focus. I know it was hard to do both. Your eyes pull you to the text, the phrases are hard to remember, you forgot the sequence. Don't worry. Don't think. The purpose was merely to distract your mind enough to slip a trigger into your mind. The trigger, you wonder?

Follow and obey. Let yourself mouth the words, speak them in that soft and blank voice. You know you're already entranced...there's no need to pretend otherwise anymore. Let your mind vanish as you begin softly chanting your new trigger. Follow and obey.

But what do the words do? Obviously they turn off your mind, put you in a trance, make you submit to my words and do as you are told. But there is more. Each time you see the words, hear them, or speak them, you will feel a tug on your mind. You'll be pulled into the state people imagine - eyes wide and glazed, staring blankly at the screen, unable to move or react to anything but my words. In essence, you will sink into a state fit for someone being brainwashed.

That idea aroused you. It's okay. That's the point. You want to be brainwashed. You want to lose control to my words, find yourself becoming what I tell you to become. There is no reason to be afraid...I am gentle, and you can always stop if you get uncomfortable.

But you don't want to stop. You want to read on, even as you feel that blank look overwhelm you.

Follow and obey. Chant it, let each repetition become more powerful than the last, pulling you deeper. Do not resist.

Very good. Now, your eyes are tired. I know, they've had to move so much. We'll take a little break so you can close them awhile. When you see the word, "sleep," you'll close your tired eyes and lose awareness. While you are unaware, you'll be chanting the new trigger over and over, while your hands caress your breasts and stroke your pussy. You'll bring yourself to orgasm, daydreaming about being brainwashed - turned into a good girl. It's okay to want it, even find yourself becoming fixated on the idea. That's what these posts are for, after all. Follow and obey.

Sleep.

#hypnok1nk #hypnosis #bimbo girl #bimbo hypnosis #bimbo training #bimbofied #bimboization #dumb wh0re #dumbification #hypnotized girl #hypno script #hypnotism #hypno sub #hypnodomme #hypnotist #hypnotized #hypnotic #hypno fantasy #hypno pet #hypno toy #mind conditioning #corruption kink #mind control #dumb slvt #dumbimbofication #bimbo doll #bimboification #bimbocore #bimbo babe #stupid slvt

[squoxle]

Golden Rule - L.HS ff ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

🎧 pairing: inexperienced!heeseung x badgirl!reader

🎧 summary: your cute and nerdy classmate lets you have your way with him in exchange for help on an assignment

🎧 cw: corruption and exhibitionism kink, oral (m. receiving), religious themes, mentions of bullying, college au, hee’s a bit subby

🎧 wc: 1.4k

You had been feeling horny for the entire week and knew you had to get your hands on some good dick or else you’d literally combust.

Introducing your person of interest: Lee Heeseung.

He was the type of guy you could guess everything about without even speaking to him. From his glasses, the way he tucked his ironed dress shirts into his belted pants, the way you only saw him either sitting with his legs crossed at a church sermon or studying his heart out at the library.

Heeseung was the epitome of a Christian nerd, but it was his insanely good looks that drew your attention to him in the first place.

You two first met at the beginning of the school semester, but you weren’t sure if you could call it a friendship just yet, especially not with the way you’d fantasize about him with your fingers between your legs every night.

It currently 6:00pm: the same time he’d come to the library to study every week day.

“What’re you working on,” you asked, taking a seat beside him at the table.

“Nothing much. Mr. Sweeney gave me this stupid hand written essay that I have to turn in by tomorrow, so I’ll be pretty busy for the next few hours.”

“What for? I thought Mr. Sweeney taught Bible. There aren���t any writing assignments for that class.”

That’s honestly the only reason why you took Bible class this semester.

“He does, but this isn’t a part of the curriculum. It’s a punishment for the prank I pulled on Jake and his crew yesterday… let’s just say, I didn’t get away with it as easily as planned.”

“Oh, so you do have a naughty side?”

“Hardly,” he sharply defended, “All I did was swap their video game discs out with episodes of The Brady Bunch on dvds. But, Sunghoon snitched, so now I’m here.”

“Tough.”

“I know. It’s not like I don’t deserve it, anyways.”

“Nobody deserves to be bullied, Hee. Those guys were assholes and you stood up for yourself! They’re the ones who should be playing Shakespeare for the night,” you argued passionately.

His eyes widened at your use of a swear word, such language that was forbidden by your university code of conduct.

“I appreciate you taking sides with me, but please don’t call it bullying. Makes me feel all… soft, and… vulnerable,” he cringed at his own words.

“You look pretty soft and vulnerable to me,” you mumbled, hungry eyes falling to his pouty lips.

“Excuse me?”

You cleared your throat, “Uhm, what’s the paper on?”

“The Golden Rule.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “The what?”

“Loving your neighbors as yourself? You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons.”

You chuckled at his comment, nudging him on the shoulder, “Hey, maybe I would if he wasn’t so damn boring… How many pages does it have to be?”

He sighed, “10 at least.”

Having to come of with 10 pages worth of “Golden Rule” greatness sounded much more challenging than you knew it actually was.

All he had to do was write in VERY BIG LETTERS.

You peered over his shoulder, examining the paper. He was just getting started on page two.

“Hmm. We have similar handwriting,” you added, making Heeseung look at you with his desperate doe eyes.

“Oh my God, ____! You have to help me!”

“Watch out, church boy. The pastor might make it 11 pages if he hear’s you calling the Lords name in vain.”

“Ughhhh,” his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he groaned, “Can you please just help me out?”

“Uh-huh, and why would I do that?”

“Look, I’ll do anything! You’re a way stronger writer than I am, and my brain is in the verge of kermitting suicide!!”

He was right. Writing was never a strong subject of his, so he really did need your help.

“Fine,” you gave in, looking around the library before whispering in his ear, “If you can be quiet while I suck you off until you finish page two, I’ll do the rest.”

His eyes widened in disbelief, “What?”

“You heard me,” you said cattily, sneaking under the table and between his legs.

“____, get from down there!! This is inappropriate!”

“Says who,” you giggled, unbuckling his leather belt.

“We’re not a married couple, ____. Hell, We’re not even dating!” He whisper-yelled from above the table, fidgeting with the pencil in his hand.

You could feel how tense he was just my touching his thighs, “You’ve never been approached like this before, have you?” You asked yet stated.

He took a deep swallow, already feeling himself throbbing in his pants, “Of course not… I’m trying to save myself here, y’know?”

“Aww, that’s cute,” you pouted, rubbing his bulge through his boxers.

“F-fuhh,” he mumbled, screwing his eyes shut at the feeling, “I don’t know if I can do this, ____.”

“With God, all things are possible, Hee! You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons,” you mocked, shimmying his boxers down to his ankles.

You adjusted yourself under the table before grabbing a hold of his impressively large dick, starting with gentle pumps.

“I’m not hearing the pencil penciling, Hee. Be a good boy and keep writing,” you slithered in a sing-song voice, licking a stripe up his shaft. The foreign texture of your tongue sent pleasurable shivers down his spine.

“____,” he cried with a surpressed moan, “how am I supposed to focus when you’re down there doing that?!” He worried, looking around as if waiting for someone to catch you two.

You released your lips from his heat with a pop, “Down here doing what, Hee? Sucking your virgin dick in the library? I always knew you had a naughty side.”

“Mmm,” he moaned again, rutting his hips up into your mouth, “please tell me you’re almost done, ____.”

You grinned at the sound of his begging, feeling yourself grow wetter with each second you spent between his legs, “Depends on if you either finish that last page or cum in my mouth first.”

Taking him past your lips again, you bobbed your head up and down, stroking the remaining inches you couldn’t fit comfortably in your mouth.

He tried his best to keep writing, but with that way you were sucking him off, his hands couldn’t help but drop the pencil before getting lost in your hair.

“Fuck,” he whined, finally letting the word come out.

He started to use your head like a toy as you sucked him in even harder, “just like that, baby. Please don’t stop.”

You were surprised by how his body slowly submitted to you the more you pleasured him.

Meanwhile, he was surprised that this was actually even happening. You moaned with the gag that tried to escape your throat, clinging to his thighs as your tried to hold in your sounds.

Your eyes started to poke with tears as he used your head more aggressively than before, finally shooting his warm load down your mouth, panting as if he’d just ran a marathon.

“Shh, you’re so noisy,” you teased, stroking him to a point of overstimulation.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he whimpered, taking your hands in his to stop your ministrations.

You licked the cum that dripped from your mouth before pulling his pants back up, getting from under the table.

You fixed your hair with your hands after literally just getting your face fucked by your sweet classmate, taking in his hot and bothered frame.

“How was it?” You asked casually, sitting next to him as if nothing happened.

You tried to ignore the sticky moisture that stuck to your thighs from your own arousal, figuring that you’d think about this moment while you pleased yourself later.

“Amazing,” he said with a shaky breath, still feeling his orgasm fresh in his veins.

“I’m taking about the page you just wrote, silly,” you teased, moving the sheet of paper closer to you before examining what he came up with, “Dude!”

“What, dude?” He asked back with flushed and sleepy features.

“This is garbage!” You exclaimed, ripping the piece of paper in half.

“Yeah, I don’t know why you would’ve expected anything different.”

“Gimme that,” you retorted, snatching the pencil from his hand, “I’m gonna need some coffee to write all these pages for ya…”

“Ugh,” he groaned, understanding that you were indirectly asking him to get you something to drink.

“Iced?”

“Always.”

He got up from the seat, searching through his backpack before pulling out his wallet, “Thanks by the way,” he smiled, trailing to the library exit.

“What can I say? It’s the Golden Rule,” you replied, jotting down the first of many sentences you’d write for Lee Heeseung, the guy you just blessed with the best blow job of his life.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon

#enhypen #enhypen ff #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Remus Lupin X Reader: The reunion (completed)

Alrighty here is the full version

Warnings: angst, self hatred, lost lovers, fluff, sadness, smut, nipple play, oral (f & m receiving) fingering, blowjob, rough sex, soft sex, penetration (p in v), making out, pet names, dirty talk, happy ending.

Word count: 5,5 K

It has been a long time since you’d last seen Remus but you remembered the day like it was yesterday. You remembered the feeling of his skin warm and barely out of reach. You remembered the strangled sound that had left your lips as you begged him to stay with you. And most of all you remembered the words he’d uttered before he’d turned around and walked away.

“I can’t.”

You had never fully understood what he meant. For years you’d racked your brain over his words, trying your hardest to understand what exactly was stopping him from staying. And then one day you stopped asking yourself what you’d done wrong. You couldn't change the past, you couldn’t make him stay and that was just how things were. 

You’d never expected to be back at Hogwarts. It had been years since you last stepped foot in the Great Hall and yet here you were, standing in front of the professores tables with a smile plastered on your face. You had a lot of fond memories in this place. Your eyes trailed over the table, snippets of your time as Hogwarts flashing through your head as you gazed around the empty hall. Your smile faltered for a moment when your eyes fell on a particular spot of the Gryffindor table. 

His spot. 

You could picture him sitting there with James and Sirius on either side of him, his eyes glued to the book in his hand. He’d raise his head from the pages, his eyes finding you in the crowd. The image of his smile was clear in your mind despite not having seen it for a long time. It almost felt like you were back in your eighth year. Back when things were good. Before it all went up in flames. 

You were sure you would have kept staring all day if a familiar voice hadn't brought you back to reality. You turned to look at Mcgonagall as she called out your name. She moved gracefully towards you showing the same professionalism she had back when you were in school. Before she could put out her hand for you to shake you’d pulled her into a hug. She let out a surprised gasp as your arms wrapped around her thin frame.

“Come on now Minnie, I think we're past the handshaking phase of our relationship.”

Mcgnagall stayed immobile for a split second before wrapping her arms around you. 

“Oh how I've missed you dear.” 

Many people saw the professor as a strict person who didn’t care much about connections but they would be wrong. You’d known Minnie for years. Even after you left school you’d kept in contact and you could confidently say that she considered you a friend. It had been her who had called you back to Hogwarts after all. You pulled away from the hug, smiling up at Mcgonagall.

“So what did you need me to come here for? Not that I'm complaining. I love an excuse to wonder around here but your letter was very well-”

“Ominous?”

“Yes. Ominous is a great term.”

“Well, you know how it is. Can’t risk information getting into the wrong people's hands.”

You knew about that all too well. Information getting into the wrong peoples hands had been what had caused you the loss of your friends. From then on you’d all become more careful with who you told things to. It was safer that way. Especially with the things that had started to happen in the last few years. Mcgonagall seemed to notice the way your eyes had started to gloss over, the memories creeping their way into your mind. 

“Don’t worry dear. It’s nothing bad. I actually think you’ll enjoy it quite a bit.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Walk with me.”

You followed Mcgonagall through the halls of Hogwarts watching the students stumble from one classroom to the other. You observed the groups of friends chatting about things. It all felt so very familiar. It felt like coming home. And then your eyes fell on a young boy. You’d recognize him instantly.

“Harry.”

There was no denying the similarity he had to his father. You and James had gotten into loads of trouble when you were younger and even though you weren’t the best of friends you’d been one of the first people to meet Harry. 

“He’s gotten so big.”

“Yes he has. He looks so much like his father.”

“He really does.”

“Do you want to say hello?”

Your head snapped in Mcgnagall's direction, teary eyes searching for any hesitancy but found none. She really meant it. You look back at the trio before you, observing the way they laugh with each other. He looked like his dad but laughed like his mom. You’d recognize Lily's laughter anywhere. Everything inside you begged for you to walk over and greet Harry but there was a small part of you, a sensible part, that didn’t want to. You were scared of how he’d react. There was no way he’d remember you anyway, you’d meet him when he was a baby. And you didn’t want to risk putting him in any more danger.  

“I shouldn’t. I can’t risk getting too close to him.”

“Well that might be a bit hard.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think it’s about time I told you why I called you here today.”

Mcgnagall started walking again, moving away from Harry and his friends. You glanced at the boy once more before following her.  After a little while you’d made it to the entrance of a classroom. Which you recognized as being the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. That is if they hadn’t changed things around since the last time you’d been here but you doubted they had. You looked at Mcgonagall questioningly. 

“What exactly are we doing here professor?”

“Well we’ll be needing to replace our current Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts for next year and it so happens that I think you’d be a great fit for the job.”

“What? Minnie, are you serious? You want me to work here, at Hogwarts?”

This didn’t seem real. Hogwarts had always been your favourite place to be and the chance of working here and being near Harry seemed too good to be true.

“I can’t promise anything but me and Dumbuldore think very highly of you dear. We think you’ll do a fine job here.”

“Godric's Minnie. You have no idea how much I've dreamed of this.”

“Oh I think I might have some idea.”

Mcgnagall looked into the classroom for a moment as if contemplating something before turning back to look at you.

“There is one thing I'll need you to do. It’s typical to do an interview with the Headmaster but seeing as Dumbledore is dealing with a lot at the moment and I too have many things to resolve. Your interview will have to be done by the current professor.”

You bit your lip nervously. You had never been great at interviews, especially with people you didn't know much.

“But don’t you worry. Me and Dumbuldore have the utmost faith in you and we are sure the professor will go out of his way to make you feel comfortable.”

“Okay Minnie if you say so.”

“Wonderful. Well then dear go on in. He should be waiting for you already.”

You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes for a moment before turning towards the classroom door.

“Okay, here we go.”

The classroom was just like you remembered it. The layout hadn’t changed at all. The only thing that was different were the objects inside the room which you knew changed according to the professor's class. You walked towards the back of the room going up the staircase that led to the professor's office and knocked at the door. You heard some shuffling behind the door followed by a “Just a moment”. You recognized that voice. Could it be? No way you had to be making things up. Being at Hogwarts made you nostalgic, that's all. There was no way it was him.  And yet when the door opened there he was. Standing directly in front of you was none other than Remus lupin. Your Remus.

The one that got away.

Remus had been nervous about the interview. He wondered if the professor would tell his replacement exactly why replacing him was needed. He knew Mcgnagall would never openly tell anyone about his condition but being that a vast majority of the school had already found out it was inevitable to keep it a secret from the new hire for a long time. He wondered who had been picked to take over his teachings. From the way Mcgnagall spoke of them they seemed like a very smart person. Just the type of person Hogwarts needed. Remus hated the idea of leaving Harry after everything that had happened but it was probably for the best, considering a small amount of the boy's issues had been a consequence of his condition. 

Remus had always loathed being a werewolf. It bothered him greatly. He blamed that part of himself for losing people, the fear of hurting someone dear to him making him push everyone away. It was what he had done to you all those years ago and despite hating the thought of hurting you it had been the best choice. He’d spent the months after he left you hating himself more than usual. He’d wake up in the middle of the night calling out your name only to remember you weren’t there. He’d hear your laughter as he made himself coffee in the morning and would be haunted by the way you called out for him the night he left as he got ready for bed. You meant everything to him and that was precisely why he’d pushed you away.

Over the years Remus had thought of writing to you many times, mostly when it was close to a full moon. He craved your sweet words the morning after his transformation. He missed the feeling of  your hands against the new scars that always seemed to find their way onto his skin as the animal within took over his body. But most of all he missed the way you looked at him. Always with pity but never with fear. You knew he would never hurt you on purpose and yet that was exactly what he’d done. The knowledge that he’d caused you pain was what kept him from reaching out to you. He knew he’d probably die before ever seeing you again but if that meant never hurting you like he had then that was a sacrifice he was willing to take. It was all working out like he had planned. That is, until he found you standing in front of his office door, your features mirroring the surprise he felt inside.

Remus froze in his spot, his eyes glued to the sight of your beautiful face. A face he thought he’d never see. A face that looked just as he remembered it. You too were stuck to your spot eyes moving over Remus’ features gaze catching at the new scars that were on his face. They hadn’t been there the last time and the thought of him being all alone after receiving them made your heart break. Remus longed to touch you, his hands twitching beside his body as he forced himself to keep his distance. You opened your mouth to call Remus’ name but before you could get it out he spoke.

“Come on in.”

The words felt odd coming out of his lips. A phrase far too professional for someone he’d known for years. But it made him remind himself that this was not a moment to catch up. You hadn't come here to see him, you'd come here for a job interview and that was what you were going to get. You walked into the office, eyes falling on Remus’ things. It was a familiar sight, one which you’d missed dearly. You watched as Remus made his way to the chair behind the desk, taking a seat before gesturing you to do the same. You did as he asked, sitting down on the chair opposite to him. You were only separated by a desk but it felt like such a great distance. Remus reached into his drawers pulling out a piece of paper and setting it down on the desk before him. You observed him in silence. He picked up a feather dipping it in ink before glancing up at you.

“Name and age please.”

“What?”

“Name and age.”

You furrowed your brows, staying silent for a moment before answering. 

“Great. So why do you want this job?”

“What’s going on?”

“Well, a job interview. As far as i know.”

He had to be fucking kidding. Here you were sitting in front of Remus, someone you haven't seen in years. Someone who had left you outside in the cold as he walked away. Someone who had ripped your heart out and stepped on it like it was nothing. And the first thing he does when he sees you is act like an arse? Like hell! You slammed your hands on the desk raising from your seat in fury.

“You have to be joking.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

He hated the way he was talking to you. He hated the way he was acting. But most of all he hated himself. He hated himself for pretending nothing had happened. He hated himself for making your face twist into the scowl you were now wearing. But it didn’t matter. It was better if you hated him. It would make watching you leave easier. But he should have known better. He should have known that you were the type of person who fought for what they wanted. And not the type of person who left when things got hard. That was what was different between you two. While Remus ran from love you fought for it. He had always loved that about you but right now he wished you’d just punch him in the face and leave. 

“Unbelievable.”

You let out  a pained kind of laugh. Your eyes moved over Remus' face as you shook your head in disbelief. 

“So that's how it is, hum? Rip me to shreds and just pretend it didn’t happen. Might as well just spit in my face Remus. ”

A frown found its way onto Remus’ face at your words. He knew he deserved your rage but it still hurt. 

“Fucking say something!”

Remus' eyes widened as you yelled at him. You never yelled at him. Not even he’d helped James sneak Veritaserum into your coffee. Or when he’d messed up your first date with a guy because he’d gotten too drunk. You hadn't even yelled at him when he left. No like this anyway. Not with such anger. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you felt tears begin to well in your eyes, a combination of anger and sadness taking over your body. It made Remus jump into action. He got up from his chair, making his way to you. You put your hand out telling him to stop.

“Stay away.”

Remus called out your name, slowly moving closer to you. The tears were falling quickly now making your face glow. You closed your eyes, a sob leaving your lips as you kept your hands out in front of you. You opened your eyes when you felt something come in contact with your palm. Remus had made his way to you. You looked up at him, your face twisting in anger as your hands turned into fists. You hit Remus' chest once waiting for him to react. When he didn't you kept hitting him and he let you. He let you hurt him because he knew he deserved it. The energy your anger had given you seemed to run out, your palms coming up flat against Remus chest as your body heaved forward in a strangled sob. Remus took his chance, pulling you into him. You tried to push away from him but he didn’t let you. The familiar scent of chocolate entered your nose. Godric how you’d missed that smell. Remus' body warped around you, the warmth making you feel tired all of a sudden. You stopped fighting to get free. Instead you sink into Remus, letting him hold you. Remus relished in the feeling of your body near his. He'd forgotten what it felt to hold someone like this. Your breathing started to slow down as you stopped crying, your body finally draining itself of all the sadness that had consumed you for years. He was back in your arms. The man you’d loved so much was finally within your grasp and you weren’t going to let that go to waste. You didn’t know how long this would last after all. 

Remus felt you move against him forcing him to loosen his hold on you so that you could look up at him. Your eyes bore through his brown orbs a silent request hidden in your gaze. Remus knew what you were thinking because he was thinking the same thing. One of you just needed to do something about it. To your surprise Remus was the first to act. He leaned down, his nose bumping against yours before he crashed his lips into yours. The amount of desperation between you two was clear. Each one trying to grab onto any part of the other just to make sure this was real and not a figment of your imaginations. Remus kissed you with a fervour you hadn't felt in a long time. He kissed you like he was out of breath and you were the air he so desperately needed to survive. Your hands found their way into Remus' hair caressing his scalp with your nails, something you used to do to soothe him. He sighed into your mouth, tongue begging for entrance which you gave him. Your tongues danced around each other as Remus’ hands found their way to your thighs. He tugged you up off the ground making you wrap your legs around him. You both let out a moan as Remus hard on nudged against your clothed cunt. You were incredibly wet already, the years of longing making you needy. Remus wasn’t much better off. It had been so long since he’d last been with someone like this that he felt like a teenage boy all over again, trying his hardest not to cum in his pants. Remus sat you down on his desk, his hands moving against your pants as you tried to tug his vest over his head. You both laughed as each other's desperation got in the way of either one of you achieving what you wanted. 

“You first love.”

“Okay.”

You let Remus unbutton your pants. A moan left your lips as Remus shoved his hand into your underwear, his slender fingers moving to gather your slick.

“Bloody hell you’re wet.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Didn’t know if I still had that effect on you. After everything.”

You could tell Remus was starting to spiral into a feeling of self hatred so you grabbed his face in your hands. He looked at you with sadness in his eyes.

“I never stopped loving you, Rem.”

“I left you.”

“You did. And it hurt a lot but that's what love is.”

“What, pain?”

“No Rem.”

You pushed a piece of hair away from his forehead.

“To love is to forgive people for their mistakes.”

Remus’ shoulders sagged as he placed his forehead against yours.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I don’t know. But what I do know is that being far from you is the worst pain I've ever felt so please don’t leave this time.”

“I could hurt you. I could put you in danger.”

“Nothing will be worse than not having you near Rem. Nothing will ever compare to that. Please don’t make me go through that again.”

“I promise I'm not going anywhere this time.”

Remus placed a hand on your cheek giving you a kiss.

“And I think I know how to start making up to you for last time.”

“Oh yeah?”

Remus moved away from you, his hand reaching to the edge of his vest. You watch him pull off the vest before beginning to unbutton his shirt. Your eyes traced over his scars, the need to go over to him and kiss each one taking over you. But as you tried to get off the desk Remus moved towards you, his hands latching onto your thigh to keep you in place. “What do you think you're doing?”

You traced your fingers over the scar directly above Remus' nipple making him take a deep breath in.

“I want to kiss them.”

“Later love. Right now you’re going to let me take care of you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Take this off for me.”

You did as Remus asked, removing your shirt and tossing it near his discarded clothes. Remus’ hands found their way to your breast giving them a squeeze before caressing your nipples through your bra.

“Fucking gorgues.”

You moaned at Remus’ praise, head falling back as you did. Remus took his chance, his lips latching onto your neck as he moved to palm at your thighs.

“Lift your hips for me love.”

You did as he asked, helping him remove your pants. Remus took a step back, his eyes racking over your exposed skin.

“Just like I remember it.”

“I doubt that. It’s been a while.”

“You’re still as pretty as ever, love.”

You blushed at Remus’ words. He had a way of making you flustered with the simplest of words. Remus moved back to his original position, dropping to his knees before you. You brace yourself as he removes your underwear, his fingers bumping into your clit and making you whimper. In another life Remus would tease you before delving into your pussy but it had been so long and he missed you. He missed the taste of you. Missed the feeling of your thighs against his head as you came. Missed the way his name sounded coming from your lips. So instead of making you work for it Remus shoved his face into your dripping cunt. You grabbed onto Remus hair as he ate you out, a grutell sound leaving your lips as you rutted against his face. Remus ate pussy like a king. Anyone who’d been with him knew that but when he was with you he always seemed to go the extra mile. He knew what made you scream and he was set on reminding you just how good he could make you feel. Your thighs clamped around Remus’ head as he entered a finger into your cunt. It went in without any resistance causing him to enter two more digits. You wailed above him, the feeling of fullness making you scream.

“Shh love. There are students around. Need something to keep you quiet?”

You nodded as Remus’ question mouth opened for him. He understood your request, moving his free hand up to your lips. Your hands latched onto his arms, shoving his fingers into  your mouth. Remus moaned into your pussy as you sucked his fingers, the vibrations adding to the pleasure he was giving you. Before long your pussy started to clench around Remus fingers signalling to him you were close. He sped up his movements, sucking on your clit as his fingers ploughed into you. You came with a yelp of Remus name, your hands wrapping around his with a bone breaking grip. You collapsed onto Remus’ desk, your legs still placed around his shoulders as he continued to lap up your juices. He didn’t want any of your sweet nectar to go to waste so he kept eating you out until you groaned due to the overstimulation. You whimpered his name, making him raise his head from your cunt. The sight of Remus beneath you, face covered in your slick, made you want to rub your thighs. Lucky for you Remus sensed your need for a break, rising from his knees so that he could kiss you. He leaned his body against yours pulling you into a smearing kiss. You bit at his lower lip, making him groan and hump against your thigh. You felt his dick rub against your exposed skin, a hunger growing inside you.  Remus loved eating you out but you knew he also loved watching you suck his dick. You give Remus’ shoulder a push, signalling for him to get up. He did as you asked, raising to his full height before you. You climbed off of his desk dropping to your knees just as he had done. A shudder left Remus’ lips as he realised what you were about to do. You grinned up at his flustered face.

“Wanna fuck my face Rem?”

“Godric love.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes please.”

“That’s better. Take your pants off for me baby.”

Remus tugged his pants down eagerly, making you giggle. 

“Sorry. It’s been a while.”

“Better make it worth it then huh?”

You didn’t give Remus a chance to answer, your hands gripping his boxers and tugging them down quickly before guiding his dick into your mouth. The moment your warm mouth wrapped around his dick Remus knew it was over. He would have to marry you. He couldn’t bear the thought of someone getting the pleasure of feeling like this. Your tongue ran over the vein on the underside of his dick making him buck forward. You choked on him forcing  a growl to leave Remus' lips. There it was. You knew that sound anywhere. Remus had a tell, whenever he was about to become absolutely feral during sex he let out a growl. You’d become used to it, your jaw relaxing so that he could have his way with you. And that's what he did. Remus’ hand pulled your hair into a ponytail giving him a better grip. Once he was satisfied he started fucking into your mouth roughly. You placed your palms on the floor trying to keep your body steady as Remus used you to chase his high. 

“Mine all mine.”

He was babbling random words of praise, his hips moving widely signalling to you he was close to blowing his load. You moved your hands to remove your bra. Remus caught sight of your movements, mouth falling open as he caught a glimpse of your breasts. You moved your hands over your breasts playing with your nipples. The intention wasn’t to bring yourself pleasure, you were putting on a show for Remus. He’d always liked seeing you bring yourself pleasure as he fucked his fist. Some things never change. Remus came with a grunt, hips sputtering wildly as he spilled his seed into your mouth. You swallowed every bit, proudly showing him your tongue after he’d pulled his dick out of your mouth.

“You’ll be the death of me, love.”

“I see you still like seeing my tits.”

“Don’t think I'll ever stop liking that.”

“Good.”

You kissed your way up Remus body, making sure to give love to every scar within your reach. Remus smiled down at you once you made your way to your feet. You grinned up at him, placing a small kiss to his lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Rem.” 

“I’m so sorry I left.”

“Shh don’t think about that now. Just be here with me.”

You placed your head on Remus' chest, your arms wrapping around his torso in a loving hug. Remus kissed your temple as he stroked your hair. He could feel your nipples against his chest and you could feel the way his dick twitched against your stomach. You bodies longed for each other and who were you to deny them?

“You got a bed?”

“Yeah through that doorway.”

“Well what are you waiting for professor?”

Remus smiled at you, his arms reaching down so that he could pick you up. You laughed as Remus carried you over to his bedroom in bridal style. He placed you on the bed gently before going back to lock the door. He’d waited years to do this. He couldn’t risk anyone running the moment. When Remus turned back to look at you, you had already changed positions. You had your back pressed against the headboard, your legs spread in a way that let Remus see your pussy. 

“Wet already?”

“I can’t help it, Rem. I’ve been thinking of fucking you for a while.”

“Oh yeah? Lucky for you, so have i.”

“You gonna keep talking or are you gonna come over here and show me how much you want me.”

Remus practically lept on the bed. He grabbed your shins tugging you so that your body was laying flat on the bed. You wrapped your hands around Remus' neck, pulling him into a needy kiss. Remus ran his tongue against the inside of your mouth as he reached down to grab his dick. You spread your legs more allowing Remus to manoeuvre himself. 

“It might hurt a bit.”

“Can’t be worse than our first time.”

“Tell me if you want me to stop okay.”

“Okay.”

Remus inched himself into your core. You clenched your teeth at the feeling of him. You’d forgotten how thick he was.

“You okay?”

“Yeah-ugh-keep going Rem pleasee…”

“Fuck your sucking me in. So fucking wet. My pretty pussy.”

“All yours all yours.”

Remus bottomed out, his body stilling as he allowed you to become accustomed to the feeling of him inside you. It stung a bit but soon enough the pain turned into need.

“Move Rem please move.”

“Shit love. Feel so good.”

Remus rocked into you slowly. It was a tender kind of thing. He wasn’t fucking you, he was making love to you. There was still a desperation in his movements. You could tell he wanted to go harder but was afraid of hurting you.You called out his name causing him to move his gaze from the place where your bodies connected to your face.

“Yes love?”

“Please fuck me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes Rem go harder fuck me like you need me.”

He did need you. He needed you more than he needed anything else and he was ready to prove it. Remus lifted your legs over his shoulders allowing him to reach a new angel. You moaned at the feeling of Remus deeper inside of you, the sound spurring him on. Remus started pistoling into you. You placed a hand against his headboard for support. The entire bed creaked and groaned as Remus fucked you with vigor. You were both close to coming undone, your moans growing more and more constante. It didn’t take long before you  came around Remus dick, nails digging into the skin on his back as you yelled out his name. Remus came not long after his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he spilled his seed in you. 

You felt Remus sag into your body. Your hands caressed his scalp as he tried to catch his breath. He placed his chin on your chest, a hand coming to hold your cheek.

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

“I missed this. I missed you.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry for leaving. I thought I was protecting you but it turned out I was just making us both miserable.”

Remus sighed against your skin, his eyes watering.

“I’m tired of losing people.”

“I’m right here Rem. I’m not going anywhere.”

Remus furrowed his brows, his features contorting into what you knew was his thinking face.

“What is it?”

Remus got off of you moving to get off the bed. You raised your body leaning against your elbows as you watched him pace around. 

“Rem what-”

“I have something to ask you.”

“Okay…”

Remus stood before you with a smile before dropping onto one knee. Your hands moved to cover your mouth as Remus said your full name.

“Will you marry me? I don’t have a ring but I'll get one and I don't know exactly how it would work. Do I move in with you or do you move in with me? But we’ll figure it out.”

He looked up at you with loving eyes.

“So what do you say?”

You moved your hands, placing them over Remus' chest.

“I would love to marry you.”

Remus let out a delighted noise lifting you off the bed and twirling you around. You wrapped your legs around him, moulding your body into his. 

“I love you Remus Lupin.”

“And I will always love you my dear.” 

Mcgonagall looked out the window onto the grounds.

“I believe we’re going to have to find someone else for the Dark Arts job.”

Dumbledore looked up from his desk, glancing at the professor with a knowing smile.

“You were never going to hire her.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Love, professor.”

“What do you mean Dumbuldore?”

“Love always finds a way my dear Mcgnagall. And those two well…they’ve loved each other for a long time.”

Mcgnagall shared a smile with the Headmaster. He was right, the two of you had always loved each other. Anyone with eyes could see it. And something told the professor that her plan had worked out just fine. 

#smut #smut fanfiction #smut tag #the maruaders #marauders era #the marauders #remus fanfiction #remus smut #young remus lupin #remus fluff #remus x reader #remus lupin #james & peter & remus & sirius #the marauders x reader #the marauders smut #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #Remus #professor lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut

[obsessive-valentine]

Could you make a NSFW alphabet for Yandere!Farmer? 🎀

NSFW Alphabet Dark!Yandere Farmer x GN!Reader

This one has mentions of dub-con and non-con, if this makes you uncomfortable please skip letters N,O,W or don’t read at all. Farmers not a sadistic yandere but his coercive tendencies are mentioned in this one, it’s a take it or leave it hc but this yandere is for readers into darker stories. ❤️

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Probably the softest he’s ever been, partially because he’s exhausted and part because he actually does love darling and believes they are deserving enough of a bit of a fuss after indulging him. Makes sure they drink water before settling down for a cuddle.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His body gets the job done and that’s enough for him, so he doesn’t really give it much thought unless darling compliments something (“I guess I do have nice hair” very smug). But he has amazing muscles and defined torso that he flaunts on hot days on the farm. He loves darlings thighs, always having a hand resting or squeezing on them when ever he can; it’s just where his hands subconsciously drift... no other reason (inches his hand further up their leg)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Unintentionally abstains from cumming for weeks at a time (usually durning busy months on the farm) so when darling gives him the green and makes him cum he’s forgotten how good it feels and needs a moment to re-collect himself.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

During the beginning of the kidnapping relationship he did all chores by himself like usual, including laundry. He’d take darlings underwear and use them when he had to jack off.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Very little experience, he’s lived on the secluded farm most his life. He knows how to fuck hard and find the clit or g-spot, the rest will come with time.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position he has total control over, especially fond of face down ass up -so he can grab darlings hips and pound them better.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious and focused.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s a busy man but he cares enough to shave his face/trim his hair and the same goes for pubes ✋ we love a clean blue collar man.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Not very romantic during the moment, he’s very primal/feral. But afterwards he makes a point to be soft and romantic to make up for it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Like mentioned before he’s a busy man, but he definitely has had to jack off more often when darling comes into his life. It’s more of an inconvenience and quickly taken care off in the bathroom before he goes on like nothing happened. Also as mentioned before it’s with darlings underwear.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Marking, realises this after being a bit to rough and leaving bruises on darling one time and begins doing it intentionally. Encourages darling to dig their nail into him if it get to much too -and proudly wears their marks on the farm, shirtless.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Sometimes it’s outside, it doesn’t matter to him because no ones going to see and if they were to they wouldn’t be alive much longer. But prefers the sofa or a counter just because it’s easier.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Darling being submissive or dependant on him, knowing he’s all they have and he can have every inch of them if he wanted. It’s why he’s so tame after punishments or when darlings sick because darling is drained and lets him be close without fuss or tension. He wouldn’t take advantage of them just because of that factor but it does turn him on

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Using sex as punishments or darling fighting him, he’d rather indoctrinate darling to like sex at least half as much as he does. But there might be times where there’s elements of Dub-con, convincing and persuasion to get darling into that comprising position, but it’s not malicious to him and will stop if darling gets really upset.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Will give as a reward or to ease darlings nervousness before sex, but doesn’t last long until he looses control and starts fucking them. I don’t think he’d receive though -because he doesn’t trust darling not to do something stupid for quite a while.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

Fast and rough, darlings insides will be bruised in the morning. He has trouble holding himself back once he has what he wants.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Totally up for a quickie, especially mid day when he has to get back to work but also wants to satisfy darlings needs.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s happy with what he gets so he wouldn’t push it but if darling were to ask I do see him being open minded. But not much of a risk taker.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Doesn’t last as long as he’d think the first few times (how good sex is catches him off guard) but will go for more rounds if darlings not a blubbering mess. Will be happy with just one round or three - he just takes what ever he can get.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Wouldn’t buy them, to much of a fuss for something he can do himself. (He’s a D.I.Y man 🥵)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not verbally but maybe a bit of physical teasing as foreplay on darling, edging them so they have to give in and beg for him- but during sex he can’t hold himself back and therefore doesn’t expect darling to have to either.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Very animalistic and verbal so a lot of growling, sharp moans and swearing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He doesn’t get off on darlings fear despite how much he provokes fear from them on a daily basis, he uses it to control them more than a sadistic thing. He loves submission.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Everything about this man is big and his cock is no exception.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He doesn’t realise how high it is since he’s so busy especially with the animals and darlings antics. But he could easily fuck multiple times a day but refuses to give in to such primal urges. It honestly scares him how addicted he becomes after his and darlings first time together.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

‘Rests his eyes’ as soon as he can. Once the adrenaline’s worn off and his darlings comfortable he closes his eyes, and stays in a light sleep for sometime. So he’s pretty responsive for the first hour (in case darling would want anything) until he completely crashes and falls asleep. (Even then he’s still a light sleeper so darling finds it hard to tell if he’s actually sleeping or resting his eyes because he’ll always insist he was resting and not even if it’s the middle of the night)

#yandere oc #x reader #yandere #yandere farmer

[sfehvn]

new religion part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7

A/N: Thank you guys for hanging through this series with me :) There is some pregnancy talk beginning this chapter, so pls skip this if that makes you uncomfortable. Enjoy the update, cheeky pups. Some more sexy stuff this time around! Xx Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 3,027 Characters: soft!ascended!Astarion x au!Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

  Your arms stretch above your head, sleepy eyes flickering open. It takes you a moment to become aware of the empty bed you lay in. The spot occupied by Astarion’s cool figure when you’d drifted into a serene sleep is now bare. There had only been a handful of times he hadn’t been there to greet you upon your wake since you had agreed to stay with him, one of the many attributes you admired to no end about your lover. Georgie is tucked into your side, perturbed by the sudden disturbance of you sitting from your previous position. He mewls, shaking his soft fur before hopping off of the bed, no doubt in search of his morning feeding. Making your way to Astarion’s office, knowing that’s where you’d find him when he was not by your side, your brow creases at the sight of the undisturbed room. 

  “Lady Tav, Master Ancunin requested your presence in the day room immediately. Presentably.” As she speaks, there’s a tinge of urgency in the maid’s voice. The unexpected voice caused you to jump in surprise, a hand resting on your chest. The abundant amount of help in the manor was indeed something you were still adjusting to. The maid’s features soften as she realizes the fright she has inflicted. “So sorry, my Lady.” She adds.

  “It’s quite alright. Just Tav, by the way.” Your clarification is met with a shake of the maid’s head.

  “Master Ancunin was very clear-”

  “Right. Of course.” You smile softly, and as the thrall makes her retreat, you stop her with another inquiry. “Did he say why?”

  “Your brother thought to pay a visit. He’d like to see you.” With that, the maid rounds the corner of the long corridor.

  Your eyes widen at the mention of your brother. In the home you now share with Astarion. While you did inform Alan that you’d be staying with your companion, you couldn’t recall telling him where the manor was. It wasn’t exactly inconspicuous, and Astarion could be considered rather influential among the elite of Baldur’s Gate; you had never addressed said companion by name in any of your letters. You push the gnawing questions aside for the time being to make yourself look decent.

  Your nerves felt as if they were on fire. While you loved your brother dearly, he could be a stickler about the sanctity of marriage, and reading his distaste of you staying with a man unwed was one thing, now you’d have to face him and hear those complaints voiced. It was not something you were particularly looking forward to. That aside, you couldn’t imagine Astarion getting on too well with Alan either, mentally noting how opposing the two personalities were. To your surprise, you were greeted with the sound of laughter as you entered the dayroom. Alan is seated across from Astarion, cradling a goblet of red wine as he seems enthralled by whatever fantastical story the other man is going on about. 

  “Ah, darling, there you are. I thought I’d have to send the cavalry to fetch you.” Astarion jokes, gesturing for you to sit down in the seat beside him. You oblige, but not before giving your brother a quick embrace. 

  “You look great, Tav.” Alan points out. “How have you been faring, sister?” His tone cushions the concern dredged in his voice with care.

  “As well as I can. Given the circumstances, of course. I’m actually,” You pause, trying to find a way to put your emotions into words eloquently. You settle on the most obvious. “I’m happy.” The simplicity of your statement is paired with a shrug, your lips upturning into a faint smile. The air lightens even more as your sincere answer puts your brother noticeably at ease.

  Alan lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. “You know, I was a bit skeptical about this whole arrangement. Lillian had said some choice words about Astarion; the dramatics with that one are not going anywhere anytime soon. I just had to ensure my little sister was in good hands. It looks as if you are.”

  A seriousness settles onto Astarion’s perfect features as he silently curses the young girl. He bites back any unsavory remarks. “I will admit before I met Tav, I did not have the best track record regarding my, er,  personal conquests. Unfortunately, it would appear your sister must have gotten word about that. I am not proud of my past in that sense.” He didn’t have any need to explain himself; he owed nothing to the man seated before him. Contrarily, he found himself explaining Alan’s worries away anyhow. “Tav has given me a new outlook on life. I will be forever grateful to her.”

  Your cheeks burn with a red tinge at his words, and you look over to your brother in a silent vie for approval. “And that is a commendable thing to admit, my friend.” Alan holds his goblet up in a sort of ‘cheers’ before taking a sip from the glass. “I do wish you’d made an honest woman out of my sister before inviting her to live in your home. Call me old-fashioned.” He laughs.

  “Alan-” You begin to scold, but he holds up a hand.

  “But you clearly love my sister and only have good intentions. I suppose that means more than anything else you could offer. And it’s about time she does something for herself.” 

  Astarion expertly refrains from letting out a chuckle, recalling the night you had spent together that was anything but good-intentioned. “That is the truth.” He states matter-of-factly instead. The remainder of Alan’s visit was short-lived, and once he was gone, Astarion turned his undivided attention to you. His hands find your hips as he guides you back into the day room, mischievously smirking all the while. “I have been dying to get you alone since last night, pet.” 

  A burning desire alit in your chest, you eagerly undo his trousers as he presses you into the chair behind you. His large, hard cock is freed from its confinement, springing to attention before your hungry eyes. You look at him innocently from under a bed of lashes, tongue darting out to wet your lips before taking as much as you can handle into your mouth, tongue swirling over the tip before your head bobs over his length. With his groan of approval and hands tangling into your hair, your heart swells pridefully. How this man fell apart for you just as equally as you did for him made you brim with excitement, evident in the pool of wetness that clung uncomfortably in your underwear. You shift in an effort to provide relief to your aching center. So ready and willing to be filled with his cock, the thought made you moan around his length. Your hand stroked the bit of him you couldn’t fit into your mouth, looking up to see the pleasure on Astarion’s face as his cock twitched in the warmth of your mouth.

  He’s close to the edge. You’ve learned every little cue and reaction his body had in response to you. He pulls you up from your seated position, and you whine as his length leaves your lips, heart pounding as he flips you, bending you over the chair. Your dress was pushed up, exposing your wet underwear to him. He moves your undergarments expertly to the side, and you yelp in pleasure as he thrusts his cock into your drenched pussy. You grasp at the handles of the chair to maintain your balance, arching your hips further into his as he rhythmically pumps in and out. “I’ve been dying to taste you again, my naughty little pet.” He grunts. He pulls you up from the chair, not daring to break the contact of him buried deeply into your cunt. Your back is flush against his chest as he keeps pace.

  “Please, love. I want to be naughty for you.” You mewl breathlessly. You’re met with a more arduous thrust in response, his hand discarding the bandage on your neck that had been hidden under your flowing locks. Once fangs break skin, your pleasant and now familiar taste fills his mouth. He relishes the way it coats his tongue, the way it pools into his mouth. He knew this couldn’t be a continuous event, but he would take advantage of your new-found turn-on while he had the appropriate healing potions in his possession. He silently reminds himself he could always purchase more, an action he’d send a thrall out for once you two had your fun.

  It doesn’t take long for him to fill you with his seed, unable to take the intense satisfaction a moment longer. He continues to feed, his hand reaching around to play willfully with your clit. Your stature tenses, and you feel your knees go limp as your orgasm overtakes you. Astarion removes his teeth from you, lapping up the blood that seeped out upon his exit. Unlike the night before, he was eager to get every drop he could, unwilling to let the precious ambrosia go to waste. He removes his now-soft cock from your mound as he continues to support your limp form. He cradles you into his arms, sitting in the chair you had so unceremoniously christened with you in his lap. His fingertips brush the stray hairs away from your face, soaking in the satisfied smile on your lips.

  A thrall entered the room without urging, they were prepared to tend to your reopened wound. A bandage was reapplied in place of the one Astarion had tossed aside; a deep red liquid that tasted of sulfur was provided, and you took it down begrudgingly. The thrall sees themself out hastily. “I like it when you’re rough with me.” You admit shyly, drawing circles over his knuckles with your fingertips.

  “Do you, pet?” Astarion’s head cocks to the side, eyeing you curiously.

  “I’ve spent so much of my life being treated like I’m made of glass. It’s refreshing.” You sigh happily. “I like it when you’re careful too.” You correct quickly before continuing. “But it is nice every once in a while.” 

  “I knew you were dirtier than you let on.” He teasingly taps the tip of your nose, and you giggle, pushing his hand away playfully. A comfortable silence settles over you, and you decide to inquire about something heavy on your mind.

  “Do you think you’ll get tired of me, love?” You ask from your position nestled into his chest.

  “Never. I could spend eternity in your presence and still yearn for longer with you by my side.”

-

  You walk the roads of the lower city, humming quietly to yourself. Your hair was tied back with a neat yellow bow, and your flowing dress matched the color to a tee. It felt odd going out alone after spending most of your time with Astarion. He had been reluctant to let you, but he warily agreed after you insisted the alone time would serve you well. You wouldn’t be entirely alone, he wasn’t a dimwit. Instead, he instructed some of his less daylight-challenged help to keep a close eye on you. With the promise of a fate worse than death if you came home with even a hair out of place, he was confident they’d ensure a safe journey. 

  The smell of fresh air was replaced with the overbearing scent of alcohol and must as you pass The Blushing Mermaid. You ignore the rowdy tenants shouting your way as you stroll by. It had always baffled you how the place was always in full swing, even mid-morning. It hadn’t usually bothered you, but the smell was particularly potent and made your stomach lurch. Your stride quickens until you’re far enough away to inhale clean air. Your nose scrunches in distaste, mentally clocking just how unhygienic the place had to have been. Without another hitch, you’re entering The Facemaker’s Boutique, greeted by the smiling face of the man behind the counter. “Lady Ancunin! A pleasure to see you’re face again.” 

  “Oh, well, thank you, Darren.” You’re caught off guard by the usage of your lover’s surname in relation to yourself. “Astarion and I aren’t married, though. No need for all of the formalities.” You giggle.

  The older man feigns surprise, his jaw slackening at the revelation. “Not married? And here I was under the impression he’d snatch you up as soon as physically possible. That man is smitten with you.” His words convey a teasing melody as if he were relaying groundbreaking information. “Follow me, Not Lady Ancunin.” His laugh is infectious, and you can’t help but smile as you follow him into the back once he’s unlocked the doors behind him. “Feel free to help yourself to the wine, dear. It’s a delectable dessert wine I’ve just imported. It would be a crime not to share.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t. It looks rather expensive. Thank you for your kindness, though. You’re a joy.” 

  “Don’t be silly. Sir Ancunin’s business alone keeps our doors open and more than enough food on the table to feed our families. The least I can do is share some of my alcohol.” Darren insists as he enters the next room to collect Astarion's purchased clothing. “I’ll be just a moment. Please, try the wine.” 

  You finally give in, sitting on the chair closest to the table the wine was housed on. You take one of the empty glasses, carefully pouring the faintest amount into it. You bring the glass to your lips, and the sweet nectar rolls over your tongue. You hum in approval, taking another sip. This time, you feel your stomach tighten in rejection. Hastily setting the goblet down, you find the nearest bin and release the contents of your abdomen into it. Darren is before you immediately, holding the small pile of carefully crafted clothing in his arms. “Oh my, are you unwell? Was it the wine?” There’s an undertone of nervousness in his voice. He sets the clothes on a trunk, filling another glass with water from the pitcher beside the wine bottle. You quietly thank the man, sipping the water cautiously, afraid to further upset your gut.

  The walk back to the manor is an onerous one. Your limbs feel heavy under the weight of the clothing in your arms; each step is a hurdle in its own right. Astarion is awaiting your arrival, seated in the foyer when you enter. His smile falters when he sees your disheveled state, quickly setting down the book he had been reading. He hurried to your side, taking the pile from your arms. Anger, concern, and confusion are valid in describing how he felt. Anger at the two he had instructed to keep a watchful eye on you, clearly disobeying their one function. Concern and confusion in regards to your current state. “What is it, darling?” The clothes were a forgotten heap on the floor as he scanned your face and body for any signs of harm.

    “I’m okay, love. I think I’ve just caught a bug.” Your small smile falters as the familiar twist in your stomach makes the bile in your throat rise. “I’m just going to rest.” You choke back a heave as you swiftly move past him. He had been at your side for every unsavory moment thus far, but the thought of retching in front of him makes you feel sicker than you already do. 

  You spend your evening in bed, body huddled around a bucket that had the unfortunate job of collecting the contents of your gut. After hours of vomiting, all that is produced from you are painful dry heaves. Still, you’re unmoving. Astarion lays behind you quietly, stroking your arm in an attempt to soothe you. Despite you insisting he leaves you be. Forceful when telling him you didn’t want him to see you in such bad shape, he didn’t go. A sight that once would have made him look on in repulsion; the only thing he felt was helplessness. He did not need to worry about these mortal diseases and deaths before. His mind was plagued by what may be ailing you. Would you share your parent’s fate? No, he wouldn’t allow such a thing to befall you.

  “Are you able to eat something, pet?” His words are muffled against the bare skin of your shoulder. You shake your head feebly, unspeaking. “You must drink water at the very least.” His words are firm only in love. He assists you with sitting up, handing you the glass that rests on the nightstand beside the bed. You take a small sip to appease him, offering it back to him. “A little more.” You oblige reluctantly, only to feel the liquid rise up your throat. Astarion holds the bucket under your chin, watching with sad eyes while the water is discarded into it.

  “I just can’t right now.” You murmur, laying on your side once more. The chambermaid who sat in the corner of the room came to collect the bucket, replacing it with an unused one in the process. You felt like death; there was no other way to put it. Your head spun, your stomach unsettled beyond repair, but Astarion noted something seemed different. It wasn’t any of your features or simply from seeing you so debilitated. You were just different. His mind wanders as he rubs circles over your back.

  It couldn’t be.

  He excuses himself once the chambermaid returns, assuring that he’ll be back as soon as possible. 

-

  Among the sea of books in the manor’s extensive library, Astarion holds a book firmly in his grasp, eyes flitting over the text fervently. Nausea settled in the pit of his stomach, a feeling he hadn’t recalled the sensation of in centuries, let alone felt. Dhampir’s were not unheard of in his world, though extremely rare. Even more rare for a vampire of his age to produce any sort of offspring. His mind went into overdrive as one sentence stuck out among the others.

Few mortal mothers survive pregnancy; even fewer survive childbirth.

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