#never reblogged anything faster in my life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ja3yun · 25 days

Text

The Doll House | Park Jongseong

doll!jay x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), soft dom!jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), punishment, pussy slapping, begging, slight choking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, princess), mentions of fire and other supernatural elements, anything else lmk! wc: 10.3k synopsis: your friend comes to visit you in the mansion after a month but her harsh words towards the dolls brings out a protective side, and jongseong lets you in on some secrets about the house and how they came to be. sunghoon | masterlist | heeseung a/n: hi! with this being the third instalment for this series, it's finally answering some questions while also posing some more! i truly enjoyed writing this chapter and i hope the little word plays and everything get your gears turning with theories! i enjoy hearing your theories so much like i can't even describe it <3 thank you so so so much for the love, i am forever grateful. likes, reblogs, feedback etc are all appreciated!

The doorbell chimes through the air, pulling your attention away from putting away the dishes in the kitchen, and a grin effortlessly spreads across your face. Mia's visit today after a month apart fills you with an immediate sense of joy. Though Jaeyun and Sunghoon are great company to keep, nothing quite compares to the presence of your best friend.

Her absence has been so obvious; her infectious energy seems to breathe life into everywhere she goes, which is a much-missed aura in this mansion; her presence has the power to dispel the shadows and chill that cling to the brick walls.

"Who could that be?" Sunghoon's voice interrupts your thoughts as he strolls around the kitchen island.

"It's Mia, remember? The friend I came here with. I told you she would be coming," you remind him gently, accepting the cup he just dried.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun both offer their assistance with the chores, but their motivations are drastically different. Jaeyun's assistance comes from a place of actually wanting to help and spend quality time with you, whereas Sunghoon is helping because the faster you finish, the sooner he can fuck you in whatever room you wind up in.

Despite your initial concerns, their dynamic surprises you as they seamlessly work in tandem. Rather than competing for your attention, they've embraced the idea of sharing you - an unexpected but pleasant development.

Jaeyun's bright smile at the island warms the room, his anticipation evident, "Will Mia be staying for the last month?" he inquires eagerly.

“Why? Is Y/N not enough?” Sunghoon jabs playfully, his eyebrow arching at his brother's question. His arms encircle your waist, drawing you close so your back is pressed against his chest as he leans his head on your shoulder, "If you'd rather be with Mia, I’m more than happy to have my baby girl all to myself," he murmurs against your neck, planting a gentle kiss on the nape.

Your skin tingles with a mix of excitement and affection as Sunghoon leaves a faint mark, a delighted expression dancing across your face.

“No, no! I was just curious," Jaeyun protests with a pout, his posture relaxing into a slight slouch. He’s so cute when Sunghoon teases him like that, you’re almost reluctant to stop it.

But before you can say anything, Sunghoon gently turns you to face him, his expression softening as he meets your gaze, "Remember," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of seriousness, "you can’t tell Mia about us, yeah?”

Of course, you knew that telling her would be disastrous no matter the outcome. She would either think you were crazy and lost your mind, or she would tell the world. Your best friend was never the best at keeping secrets.

“I know, don’t worry,” you offer the simple words as reassurance to him, which paired with the sincerity in your eyes, he gladly accepts.

Leaning in, Sunghoon lands a soft kiss on your lips, his kind gesture relieving any remaining anxieties, "Good. Now, once she's finally fucking gone, come find me in my room," he says with a sly leer, his fingers slithering teasingly over your sides - a familiar trick he uses to make you weak. You should reprimand him for speaking so dismissively about your best friend's arrival, but he just has the power to make you forget.

Sunghoon's demeanour takes a brief shift as he addresses Jaeyun, a hint of authority creeping into his tone, "And you," he gestures towards Jaeyun behind you, his expression momentarily serious, "if you're staying here, you stay absolutely still, got it?"

"Okay, Dad, jeez," Jaeyun retorts, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance at the implication that he needs to be reminded.

You grasp Sunghoon's concern, especially given that you're currently aware of the doll's secret due to Jaeyun's loose lips. However, Sunghoon's tone feels unnecessarily harsh. Jaeyun holds a special place in your heart, and you find yourself fiercely protective of him. It irks you to see Sunghoon address him in such a condescending manner, as if he's incapable of handling himself.

Feeling defensive of Jaeyun, you push against Sunghoon's arm, shooting him a stern look, a firm reminder that he should catch his tongue because both of you know how it affects Jaeyun.

The bell rings again, drawing all three of your attention back to Mia's imminent arrival. Sunghoon excuses himself to his room, and Jaeyun settles comfortably into a chair, leaving you to answer the door with the unspoken reassurance that Mia won’t uncover their secret. But then again, what if you slip up?

It's a nagging worry in the back of your mind as you approach the door. Mia knows everything about you - every hook-up, every situationship, even mundane details like what you had for breakfast each morning. She's your confidante for everything, even the embarrassing stuff like bursting spots on your backside. With her, nothing is off-limits.

You remind yourself to keep your wits about you, to guard your words carefully in Mia's presence. The last thing you need is to accidentally let slip the truth about the dolls and your illicit affairs with them.

You need to keep your wits about you.

As you swing open the door, greeted by the radiant presence of the angel you call your best friend, every worry and concern fades into the background. Her infectious smile and warm embrace envelop you, dispelling any lingering doubts or anxieties.

"Baby!" you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement as you wrap Mia in a tight embrace, swinging her from side to side. Though it's only been a month since you last saw her, it feels like an eternity.

Mia reciprocates your enthusiasm, squeezing you just as tightly, the warmth of her embrace filling you with a sense of homecoming. Both of you laugh and struggle to breathe amidst the suffocating love you shower upon each other, relishing in the joy of being reunited.

"God, I've missed you. It's so boring back in the city without you," Mia confesses, her words honest as she finally draws back to assess you. Suddenly, she pushes you to arm's length, her hands gripping your shoulders as she scrutinises you with a sceptical expression. With a flick of her finger, she motions for you to turn around, and you oblige, doing a quick twirl to indulge her curiosity.

You give her a quizzical look, tilting your head in silent inquiry as to what she's up to. "You're glowing, like literally, you look fucking amazing," she observes, her eyes scanning you from head to toe.

"Don't I always?" you jest in response.

"Obviously, but you've got that honeymoon glow," Mia insists, walking into the house but not before nudging you with her shoulder. "Is there a hot gardener here that I don't know about, hmm?"

Laughing, you shake your head, dismissing her playful insinuations. You make a conscious effort to maintain the facade, concealing your unconventional relationships with the dolls from Mia, despite her keen observations.

They must be fucking you good for her to notice a change within a minute of seeing you.

Mia follows you to the kitchen, her gaze lingering on the various porcelain dolls scattered throughout the hallway, just as she had when you both met Soonyeol for the first time. You sense her unease, evident in the hurried pace of her steps as she tries desperately to evade the watchful eyes of the dolls.

What she finds unsettling, you've grown to find some comfort in. Each time you clean them, you develop a newfound admiration for their intricate beauty and craftsmanship. Sometimes, Sunghoon will even tell you stories about certain dolls and their origins, adding to the mystique surrounding them.

Entering the kitchen, you find Jaeyun still perched on his seat, his usual joyful smile replaced by a stoic expression as he takes on his doll persona.

It’s weird to see him like this now, especially because you’ve seen him convey every emotion possible on that beautiful face of his; the solemn look he wears now just feels wrong.

"I brought non-alcoholic wine," Mia announces, reaching into her bag and producing two bottles of white wine. Since she’s driving, she’s bringing you along in her sobriety for the day. If it was easy to get an Uber in these parts, she certainly wouldn’t be settling for 0.05%.

You chuckle at the sight, "Seriously? Gary Barlow wine?" you tease, unable to resist poking fun at her choice.

Mia feigns offence, placing a hand dramatically over her heart, "I'll have you know this is my idea of a very nice day out," she retorts, her voice taking on a mock-serious tone as she quotes his TikTok video, struggling to suppress a giggle. "That, and it was £2 off with my clubcard."

You both burst into laughter, her tension from earlier dissipating as you share a lighthearted moment. Grabbing two large glasses, you place them on the table, inviting Mia to pour some for you both.

"How was the drive?" you inquire, taking a small sip of wine.

"It was fine, although longer than I remember," Mia replies with a huff, sinking into a seat opposite Jaeyun. You notice her discomfort as she eyes him, face contorting in a form of disgust, "How has it been here?" she asks, wishing to know how on earth you’re coping in a mansion with such watchful eyes.

"It's a big house, lots to clean. All in all, it's been good.” You sip your wine, struggling to maintain the facade of normalcy.

The urge to confide in Mia, to unburden yourself of the secrets weighing heavily on your shoulders, is almost overwhelming. You want to tell her about the dolls, the ominous door that almost blinded you, and the sense of anxiety you feel sometimes when you roam the hallways. But you swallow the truth down, burying it beneath layers of false smiles and empty reassurances. It's a lonely feeling, knowing that you can't share your fears and anxieties with your closest friend. But for now, it's a burden you'll have to bear alone.

Mia accepts your answer with a sceptical expression, her eyes never wavering from Jaeyun's impassive face, "It's so fucking creepy," she murmurs into her glass, her discomfort evident in her tone, "Do you actually have to place them around the house? Can't you keep them locked up or something?"

You glance at Jaeyun, hoping for a flicker of reassurance in his eyes, but they remain devoid of emotion, sending a shiver down your spine. It's unsettling to see him so detached, his usual warmth replaced by an eerie emptiness.

Gathering your resolve, you pick up your glass and move to stand beside Jaeyun, offering him a supportive smile before responding to Mia. "It's part of the job, Mia. Soonyeol entrusted me with the responsibility of caring for them," you explain, your voice tinged with a mixture of obligation and fondness.

Mia scoffs at your explanation, "Girl, you're in a mansion on your own, just clean up on the last day. It's not like she would notice," she suggests, her nose upturned in disdain. You can tell that this whole situation is deeply unsettling for her, a puzzle she can't quite solve without knowing the full truth. She will never understand until she’s in your shoes.

"It's... nice, to look after them like this," you say wistfully, casting a fond glance down at Jaeyun as you speak.

Unable to resist the urge to offer him a comforting touch, you reach out to tuck a loose strand of Jaeyun's hair behind his ear, a small gesture of affection. Jaeyun wants nothing more than to nuzzle himself into your touch but Sunghoon’s words are still ringing in his mind.

Mia observes your interaction with a mixture of curiosity and concern, her eyes flitting between you and Jaeyun as if trying to decipher the unspoken language passing between you. You’ve only ever looked at one other man the way you look at him and it was your high school sweetheart.

The connection you share with Sunghoon and Jaeyun is utterly unlike anything you've ever known. They resonate with your soul in a way that defies rational explanation, leaving you convinced that they must be otherworldly beings. There has to be more to them than just kindred spirits trapped in the shell of these dolls; no mere human soul could evoke such a profound hold over you.

She scoffs and laughs in disbelief at your act of affection, “You’ve lost it, completely lost it. Being in this house alone has driven you to insanity,” she shakes her head, crossing her arms.

You retract your hand from Jaeyun and look at her in wonder, “What do you mean?”

It’s completely lost on you how this could look to her because for you this is normal. Soonyeol was strange in your eyes when you first arrived, Mia also accused the owner of being crazy, but now you understand Soonyeol and her attachment to her dolls.

Mia's incredulous gaze flickers between you and Jaeyun, her words dripping with disdain. "Look at you fixing that stupid doll's hair!" she exclaims, her voice laced with exasperation as if your actions are the epitome of absurdity, "You're going to turn into that creepy bitch who lives here."

Her words cut through the air like a knife, slicing through the fragile peace of the moment. You can’t feel it but you know Jaeyun would be tensing under her words if he had the ability to. Jaeyun doesn’t like it when people talk bad about his owner, especially since the reason Mia finds her so creepy is because of him and his brothers.

He does understand to an extent that Soonyeol being so young and cooped up with four dolls in a mansion that can only rival the one in Saltburn might be seen as weird, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear about it, considering the passing comment is from someone who knows nothing about her.

You place a calming hand on Jaeyun's shoulder, your protective instincts kicking into high gear. "Listen, if you're going to run your mouth, just fucking go," you retort harshly, your voice fueled by your need to shield Jaeyun from Mia's unnecessary commentary.

Mia's eyes widen in disbelief, her expression a mixture of shock and frustration. "Y/N, listen to yourself," she chides, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment, “You've gone stark crazy... maybe you should come home-"

"No!" The word bursts from your lips in a panic, cutting off Mia's well-meaning suggestion before she can finish. The thought of leaving sends a wave of fear coursing through you.

Mia recoils at your outburst, taken aback by the intensity of your reaction. "Y/N, I don't think it's good for you here," she pleads, her tone softening as she reaches out to touch your arm.

But you pull away, shaking your head vehemently. "You literally said I was glowing all but 10 minutes ago," you snap back, narrowing your eyes at her, "Just fucking go."

There's a moment of tense silence as Mia processes your words, her expression shifting from concern to anger. She knows there's no reasoning with you when you're in this state, and she can sense the wall you've built around yourself.

"Fine. I'll see you when you screw your head back on," she spits out at you, her voice dripping with ire and disappointment. With one final, venomous glare at Jaeyun, she grabs her bag and storms out of the room, her footsteps echoing through the halls.

You're left standing there, the echoes of her departure ringing in your ears. Despite the sting of her words, you can't bring yourself to regret your decision to kick her out. At the end of the day, this is the dolls’ house and you wouldn’t like it if someone came into your flat and disrespected you or your belongings.

But you can’t help but process her words as you calm down. You know she is just looking out for you, showing her genuine concern because she knows what isolation can do to someone and their mental state, and maybe she is right. You are attached to the dolls way beyond your own comprehension and it’s taken you just now to truly realise it.

You cussed out your best friend to protect the feelings of a doll. It's a sobering thought, one that fills you with a sense of unease and self-doubt.

Maybe you should have gone with her, go back to your normal life, and forget about this place.

In the silence of the room, you turn to Jaeyun, and suddenly any wish to leave vanishes. Just like that. His face now upturned to look at you with sorrow. He looks so beautiful in this light that his being is almost angelic.

You cup his face with your hands, using your thumbs to stroke any semblance of comfort into him before speaking, "She doesn't mean it, Jaeyun," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper in the hushed atmosphere of the room, "She just doesn't understand."

Jaeyun nods slowly, knowing that you’re trying to appease his mind but what’s said has already bruised him.

Kissing Jaeyun's nose, you offer him a tender smile before gently patting his cheeks. With a sigh, you reluctantly release your hold on him, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, "I'll go check on the others," you murmur softly, "I'll be back in a bit."

_____

You shake off whatever you’re feeling and head through the mansion to help the other dolls. Admittedly, your task for moving them around has become much easier now that Jaeyun and Sunghoon move freely except for dinner time, which has freed up a good chunk of your time.

Each step you take echoes softly off the aged floorboards, their worn surfaces groaning beneath your weight. Sunlight filters sparingly through the windows, casting long shadows that dance across the dimly lit passages, adding to the eerie yet enchanting atmosphere of the mansion.

Sometimes you wonder about its history and its owner. How did a 20-something obtain such a grand house and why does she live alone? Of course, she has the boys but even then you can’t exactly take them on a night in the town. It’s so strange to see someone your age devoid of the usual life a young person would lead; no mobile, no wi-fi, not even a computer in sight.

The more you stay here though, you understand her a little bit better. There’s a comfort in the way this mansion takes your superficial worries away, like how many likes you have on your Instagram post or how people perceive you in general. The eyes that follow you here can’t pass judgment on you, which at the beginning was terrifying but now brings you a strange sort of solace.

As you navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion, you can't help but feel a sense of companionship with the dolls scattered throughout. With each step, you offer a soft greeting to your porcelain companions, their frozen expressions seeming to acknowledge your presence in return. If Mia stayed that day, maybe she wouldn’t have felt so threatened by them.

"Hello there, lovely," you murmur as you pass a doll perched on a velvet chaise longue, her delicate features bathed in the subdued sunlight streaming through the window. You straighten her white-laced dress and smile politely.

Even though the porcelain girl remains silent, you know she’s thankful.

You asked Sunghoon if it was just the four of them who could talk, curious about the dolls that decorate the shelves of the house. He informed you that they aren't sentient beings but each one has a complex past and represents an identity in their own way. Ever since then, you’ve started to view them differently, a new appreciation for them blooming.

While you’re fixing a doll standing regally on the shelf by a towering grandfather clock, her elegant gown billowing around her like a ghostly mist, a faint melody drifts into your ears. It's a common occurrence, though typically happens in the dead of night. Sometimes, in the quiet hours, the strains of a piano tune or the gentle plucking of guitar strings would echo through the halls, adding to the mansion's eerie ambience.

On your first few nights here, it made you quiver under your bed quilt but now you’ve come to find it a beautiful lullaby.

Following the source of the music, you're drawn to the open doors of the music room, their inviting stance beckoning you inside. Peering around the wall, you catch sight of one of the dolls seated with a guitar, fingers moving across the strings with practised ease.

His head hangs low, a curtain of dark brown hair obscuring half of his face, yet you recognize him instantly. It's Jongseong, his broad shoulders and golden complexion a telltale sign, along with his sharp jawline drawing attention to the almost heart-shaped mark on his neck.

You can't help but admire the striking beauty that emanates from him, even in this quiet moment of solitude. Sunghoon and Jaeyun's stories about his kindness flood you and memories of his selfless gestures are etched vividly in your brain.

You recall the time when Jongseong risked getting caught just to offer you a simple plaster for your pricked finger, his compassion shining through despite the potential consequences. And then there are the small, subtle acts of care that he continues to bestow upon you, like the glass of water that mysteriously appears by your bedside table each morning, a silent gesture of his thoughtfulness.

Then there's the delicate daisy that sometimes rests on your pillow before you go to bed for the night, a token from the front garden that Jongseong must have plucked with care, knowing how much you adore its simple beauty. Every day you go outside and admire the flower as it basks in the summer sun, its life a brightness to contrast the otherwise dreary house.

Jaeyun and Sunghoon both deny any involvement in the sweet actions, leaving Jongseong as the only possible culprit.

“You can come in you know,” his voice suddenly speaks over the gently strum.

Your breath catches at the unexpected sound of his voice, and you freeze in place, startled by his acknowledgement of your presence. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if you imagined it, but the gentle strumming of the guitar persists, a soothing backdrop to his quiet words.

With cautious steps, you inch further into the room, the rhythmic thud of your heart echoing in your ears and adding percussion to his song. Jongseong's gaze remains fixed on the strings of the guitar, his hair casting shadows across his face that do little to mask his smirk.

Now how does he know that you know about him?

Jongseong suddenly screeches the guitar to a halt, his eyes lifting to meet yours with an air of knowingness, "You seem in shock for some reason," he observes, his voice soft yet perceptible in the stillness of the room. With careful precision, he returns the guitar to its glass cabinet.

Your heart skips a beat, torn between maintaining the facade of ignorance and embracing the truth about Jongseong's secret. As his gaze holds yours, uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving your voice hesitant and faltering. "I... I am?" you manage to utter, the words tinged with a hint of doubt.

Wow, so convincing, Y/N, you internally chastise yourself for the lacklustre response, feeling the weight of your indecision bearing down on you. But before you can gather your thoughts and make a quick save for your fumble.

"Jaeyun and Sunghoon are terrible liars," he remarks, his voice calm and composed. "And I saw you just there, comforting Jaeyun because of what your friend said."

His candid admission catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Just like Sunghoon, Jongseong quickly discerned the truth, his thoughts solidified by Mia's careless words and your instinctive need to shield Jaeyun.

Exhaling slowly, you release the tension that had knotted your muscles, allowing yourself to relax a fraction. "She really doesn’t mean it," you clarify to Jongseong, hoping to ease his mind as you had done with his brother.

"It’s okay, you look fucking crazy, to be fair, fussing over some dolls," he replies, his tone surprisingly nonchalant, much to your relief. Considering Jongseong’s caring nature, you wouldn’t want her words to bruise his kind spirit.

You bristle at his casual reference to them as 'dolls,' unable to bear the thought of diminishing their significance, "You aren’t just 'some dolls,' Jongseong," you protest, your voice laced with compassion.

Rising from his seat, Jongseong offers a faint smile as he approaches you with unthreatening steps. "We know that, but she doesn’t. Don’t be too hard on her," he reassures calmingly, his words like a balm to the part of your brain that had been feuding with Mia, now quieting and subsiding under his simple wisdom.

As his hand gently strokes your hair, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you, his touch soothing the lingering unease in your mind. His fingers then trace down to your chin, his touch tender, "You’re good with him, you know, with Jaeyun," he observes softly, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that draws you in.

"He brings out a protective side of me, I don’t really know why," you admit quietly, your eyes locked with Jongseong's as you speak. His half-smirk in response only deepens the adoration reflected in your widened pupils. He closes his eyes like he knows something you don't.

Jongseong playfully pinches your chin before withdrawing his hand, "Yeah, Soonyeol has been the same ever since she got him," he remarks.

"Have you been here longer than him?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued as you gesture towards the kitchen where you left Jaeyun.

"I’ve been here for…a long time," Jongseong reveals, his voice tinged with a hint of reminiscence, "Heeseung for 8, Sunghoon for 4, and Jaeyun just over a year.."

The weight of his words swirls in your mind, each year marking a chapter in their shared history within the mansion's walls. You find yourself marvelling at the depth of their experiences, each doll carrying different memories and stories within their hollow frames. It now makes sense why Jaeyun knows so little.

That nugget of information must also mean that Jongseong knows everything there is to know about this place, about each of his brothers, if he has been here for so long. Maybe asking him will unlock the mysteries of this place.

"I'm not trying to pry," you begin tentatively, causing Jongseong to lift his brow in curiosity, "But how can you guys...how are you able to talk?" Your voice trails off slightly as you pose the question, a hint of apprehension colouring your words.

To your surprise, Jongseong chuckles softly and smiles wider in response, "Sunghoon mentioned you were snooping around when you arrived," he remarks, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes. After a moment of silence, he lets out a long breath, contemplating his next actions before continuing, "You won't give up until we tell you, will you?"

His words catch you off guard, a mixture of relief and curiosity flooding through you. Despite your initial hesitation, Jongseong's casual response reassures you, hopefully paving the way for an open and honest conversation that can curb your nosiness.

“Come on and I’ll show you.”

_____

With intertwined fingers, Jongseong leads you into the library, your mind buzzing with anticipation at the possibilities of what he could be showing you. You grip his hand tighter, excitement coursing through your veins as he pulls you towards the far end of the room.

But as you near that god-awful painting of the sheep, a sense of dread washes over you, sending a chill down your spine. Suddenly, you release Jongseong's hand, the realisation of what he's doing hitting you like a ton of bricks.

"Oh, no, no, no," you protest vehemently, shaking your head in refusal, "I am NOT going near that room."

Your mind flashes back to the burning sensation in your eyes, the eerie red light searing into your retinas. Over the past few weeks, you've actively avoided that creepy room, refusing to even glance in its direction. Your curiosity may be insatiable, but you draw the line at risking letting out whatever is in there just in the name of discovering a secret.

Your irises mirror the turmoil within you, reflecting the fear and trepidation that grips your heart. You've made a vow to steer clear of that door and any other painting in this place, focusing your investigations on less ominous artefacts like locked cupboards and hidden pages within books.

Jongseong looks at you with concern, his brows furrowing in disbelief as he processes your words, “You know about this door?" he asks incredulously, wondering how on earth you ever managed to find it.

"Yes, and I am not going near it," you retort defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest like a stubborn child, "It almost blinded me!"

As you stand your ground, refusing to budge an inch, Jongseong's expression softens, his concern evident in the gentle gaze he fixes upon you, "I promise you, Sweetheart, there is nothing in there that can hurt you, not when I'm with you, okay?" he reassures, his hand finding yours once more as he brings it to his lips, kissing away the surge of fear that threatens to engulf you.

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, knowing that he will protect you from whatever dangers may lie beyond that wooden door.

With a hesitant nod, you allow Jongseong to lead you forward, you trust him but you’re still cautious enough to keep your wits about you, trailing two steps behind him.

Reaching the top of the wooden panel that frames the door, he takes the spare key and unlocks the door. It was really in front of you the entire time and you had no clue; you’re no Sherlock Holmes, that’s for sure.

You let out a breath and scrunch your face, being ready for anything as he swings the door open. Yet, you’re met with darkness - no red light, no flickering flames, nothing like what you saw through the keyhole.

But why does that scare you more?

Jongseong pulls you in, his grip on your hand loosening as he flicks on some lanterns. The room, once plunged with darkness now has a soft glow from the lanterns as they gradually illuminate the space, revealing its secrets in flickering shadows.

It's a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion, with its black stone walls absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. The air feels heavy with the weight of something you can’t put your finger on, every corner whispering tales of those you’ll never understand or know.

In the centre of the room stands an altar, its surface weathered with age and a stone bowl resting atop it like an ancient relic. Symbols etched into the stone tell stories that you can’t translate, the old language lost on you.

As you take in the sight before you, a shiver runs down your spine, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity coursing through your veins. Where did the red light come from if everything in here looks like it belongs in the Addams Family house?

"What is all this?" you ask, your curiosity overcoming any sense of apprehension as you creep closer to the altar. It's reminiscent of ones you've seen in movies depicting satanic rituals, yet even with its eerie aura, you can't resist the urge to touch it, your fingers tracing the lines of its rim.

"The office," Jongseong replies casually, as if this were a mundane space for everyday tasks like taxes and emails. He flicks on the last lantern and shuts the door firmly, ensuring privacy and avoiding suspicion from any passersby.

As you stand mesmerised by the ceremonial bowl, Jongseong notices your admiration and smiles, "This is the ceremonial bowl," he begins to explain, his body now behind yours, his presence both comforting and electrifying as he presses slightly against you. His fingers intertwine with yours, guiding your touch along the edge of the bowl, "This is how we were summoned"

"Summoned?" you echo, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn to face Jongseong, your eyes wide with disbelief and intrigue.

“Oh, Sweetheart, to bring a doll to life, you need to give it an entity.”

“An entity as in…”

“Any form of life; angel, demon, human, that sort of thing. Someone calls and we answer”

The revelation sends a chill down your spine, the idea of imbuing a doll with the essence of a supernatural being is both fascinating and terrifying.

As you process this new information, you can't help but wonder about the origins of the dolls in this mansion, and the entities that dwell within them. They all possess such different charms and energies that you can only imagine each of them comes from different channels of spirits.

“So what are you then?” you ask Jongseong, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of trepidation.

“I’ll leave you to guess that one,” he replies cryptically, pressing himself up against you until your back meets the edge of the altar. The cool stone digs into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But you aren’t scared of me, are you, Sweetheart?" he continues, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. You shake your head, unable to deny the truth, "Then that will give you some clue," he murmurs, his words hanging in the air between you like a tantalizing riddle waiting to be solved.

You stand locked in this intimate embrace, his presence gentle despite the surroundings.

“What about your bodies?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you even though you're not entirely sure what you're asking. Obviously, they didn’t come from the pits of hell or wherever they're from, but you're curious about how Soonyeol managed to choose four dolls, each so perfectly suited to their personalities.

Jongseong tilts his head slightly, considering your question before responding, "Our bodies are vessels," he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery, “We were crafted by the hands of Soonyeol, infused with the ashes of her loved ones.”

Jongseong's response sends shivers down your arms and legs, his words so compelling that they leave you speechless for a minute, "Infused with the ashes of her loved ones?" you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, your head whirling, your throat dry as you attempt to swallow your nerves.

But before you can fully process what he said, Jongseong breaks out laughing, the sound reverberating off the walls of the poorly lighted room, "She just ordered them online," he says between laughter, his tone lighthearted. "That part isn't as evil unless you count the CO2 emissions from the planes."

Relief floods through you as you realise he’s just joking. You can't help but join in his laughter, the tension melting away as you shake your head in disbelief.

"Oh, you had me going there for a moment," you admit with a chuckle, feeling foolish for having been momentarily taken in by his playful deception.

Jongseong grins mischievously, his eyes twinkling with mirth, "I can give you the link to the site if you want? I know how much fun you’ve been having with the younger ones," he remarks, his laughter fading into a sly grin.

Your cheeks burn crimson at Jongseong's implication, and you shy away slightly, feeling a familiar wave of embarrassment wash over you. It's the same feeling you experienced when Sunghoon called you out for your rendezvous with Jaeyun, a reminder of the unconventional nature of your relationships with the dolls.

You can't shake the nagging feeling that at the end of the day, you're still fucking dolls, no matter how much Sunghoon and Jaeyun reassure you to embrace it. To be fair, the embarrassment hasn’t stopped you yet.

Seeing your flushed face even in the dim light, Jongseong's expression softens with understanding. He cradles your cheeks in his palms, his touch gentle as he strokes your flushed skin, "I'm not judging you, Princess," he murmurs, his voice tender. "I'm just feeling a little left out." He says playfully, making it hard to tell if he is serious or not.

But still his words catch you off guard and you meet his stare with a mixture of surprise and confusion. At that moment, you realise that Jongseong embodies the best of both worlds - the kindness and empathy of Jaeyun, coupled with the confidence and assurance of Sunghoon, coupled with his charm. It's a combination that draws you to him even more, creating a sense of longing.

Throwing caution to the wind, you act on impulse, letting go of any lingering doubts or hesitations. With a surge of boldness, you lean up and press your lips against Jongseong's, catching him off guard with the suddenness of your actions.

His eyes widen in shock at your sudden boldness, but they quickly darken with unmistakable hunger as he responds eagerly to your advance, smothering your mouth with his.

The kiss is electric, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you both, leaving you breathless and craving more. His lips are soft yet demanding against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he pulls you closer, his touch somehow searing hot through your skin.

Jongseong groans as he dances his tongue with yours, the artificial buds on his muscle soaking in your taste. You suck on his tongue softly, eliciting a low snarl from him, his hand coming up to grip your hair roughly, while yours slide up his t-shirt, feeling the bumps of his toned tummy.

Drawing back from his lips, you see his entity burning with desire, his grip on you tightening, “Have you ever been fucked on an altar?” he asks, a smirk obvious on his face even in the dull lighting.

“No,” you breathe out, your chest heaving from the kiss.

“I’ll change that for you…if you’re a good girl,” he teases, the hand wrapped in the strands of your hair pushing your head down until you’re slowly following his guidance, sinking to your knees. From this angle, he looks like a god, a being worth worshipping as his aura glows white.

You know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give it to him without question.

He undoes his belt with one hand, whipping it off hastily and placing it on the altar. You start to undo his trousers but as you move to assist him, your actions are abruptly halted by a sharp tug on your hair, forcing you back with a gasp.

Tears threaten to well in your eyes as the roots of your hair protest the forceful grip, but Jongseong's touch softens as quickly as it had hurt you, his hand now tenderly soothing the discomfort he caused.

"I need you to be good for me. It’s important to be good," he asserts, his voice commanding yet soft, "Only act when I say so, understood? I don't want to have to punish you, Princess. You don’t want that either, do you?"

His choice of words and gentle warning only add to the dampness in your pants, the material fully sticking to your wet cunt. You swallow hard as every word, every touch from Jongseong ignites your sense of being.

Shaking your head, you wonder if you want to obey him and avoid punishment as part of you wonders how far he could go with it.

Jongseong’s a gentle soul with kindness pouring out of him, you question whether it’s a facade to hide something more demanding underneath. Either way, you trust him, so even if you wanted to get a little bratty, you know he would cause you no real harm.

Both his hands are now on your cheeks, trapping you to look at him, “Words, Princess, use them,” he orders.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, licking your lips as you anticipate his cock laying firm on your tongue.

“Sweetheart, I’ll let you off this once, yeah? Just make sure you listen from now on,” Jongseong offers you a smile, patting your cheeks lightly before continuing, “If you ever want to stop, or I go too far, you tell me immediately. No amount of my pleasure is worth your discomfort.”

Smiling, you nod and quickly remember his instructions, “I will, Jongseong.”

Jongseong's gaze relaxes further with an accepting nod, and his touch is delicate against your skin, "Good girl," he says, his words a quiet affirmation of your submission.

He gives you the go-ahead to continue undoing his trousers which you eagerly do, your fingers quick to release the silver button and pull down his zip, leaving his trousers pooled at his ankles. You can see his member in the protruding silhouette of his boxers. Out of all the dolls, you’ve been most impressed by Jongseong, his cock is everything a person could dream of; girthy, long, like something off of Love Honey in the best seller’s section.

You discard his boxers next, leaving his member to spring into action. He is so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, admiring every part of the craftsmanship that went into making such a wonder. Raising your hand, you go to wrap your hand around him gently but you pause, realising you probably need to be told that you can indulge yourself.

Jongseong notices your hesitation and lets out a chuckle, his smile morphing into a knowing smirk as you meet his gaze with eager anticipation, "You're free to go, Princess" he announces, much to your delight, and you need no further encouragement.

Grabbing the base of his shaft you pump him a few times, the soft feeling of his skin welcomed along your fingertips. You open your mouth, staring at him as you lick the tip of his shaft a few times, each time pulsing in your hand. The mechanics of these cocks is a wonder, how realistic they all are.

He gathers your hair in his hands, brushing the wispy strands from your face adoringly, careful not to be too rough with you just yet. You look beautiful to him right now, your tongue swirling around his head, the saliva trail you’re leaving behind every time you remove your plump lips to gather your breath. Soonyeol is beautiful, but you’re like his dream come true. There’s a pang of guilt as he thinks about it but when you start sucking his cock lightly, every thought goes out the window.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pump his cock and use your tongue to massage his bell in your warm mouth, the sensation of his cold cock in contrast to your warmth adds a new layer to your pleasure, already excited to feel him deep in your heat.

His size makes it difficult to fully take him in, so you use a combination of hand and mouth technique. You see the small subtleties in Jongseong's expression - the wrinkle of his brow, the tightening hold of his fist that inadvertently tugs at your hair again - and realise he doesn't mind how you are approaching it, he maybe even loves it.

It gives you a flutter in your tummy as you see his jaw slacking and his hips subconsciously twitching with pleasure. You’re an overachiever, have been your whole life, and while this is doing him wonders right now, you know you can do better.

Popping off his cock, you tap him on your outstretched tongue, grinning widely when his eyes meet yours. With his attention on you, you force him back in your throat, gagging slightly but relishing in the burn, your hands gripping his muscular thighs.

He hisses as with each bob, he hits your throat, “Fuck,” he grits out, pushing slightly to test the boundaries, and when you gag loudly, saliva dripping down your chin with a spurt, he instantly retreats, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he soothes, his hand lifting your chin.

But you liked it, weirdly, the feeling of choking on his cock stirred something inside you, and your thighs become sticky with your arousal that is dripping down - and Jongseong noticed.

“Wait did you like it?” he asks, tightening his hold on your jaw, “You want me to fuck that beautiful throat of yours wide open?”

God, yes.

With a nod and eyes full of want, you silently express your desire for him to completely ruin you. However, as you resume, a swift smack to your cheek jolts you, rendering a grimace as you look up at him, perplexed.

"Words, Sweetheart, be a good girl," Jongseong prompts, his voice carrying both authority and care. A flicker of understanding crosses his expression as he reaches out to stroke your cheek where his hand had landed moments before. "I'm here to give you what you need," he reassures, his touch tender against your skin, "But you have to tell me."

With a deep breath, you muster the courage to voice your desire, "I want you to fuck my throat," you whisper.

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" he murmurs, his tone gentle as he encourages your honesty. ain some ways, submitting to a man like this is embarrassing, yet you can’t help but feel completely in control at the same time. He’s giving you the option to have whatever you want, something the other two don’t let you do. Jaeyun lets you take control but it’s all for his pleasure, not for your own, and Sunghoon doesn’t let you do anything on your own at all.

As Jongseong begins to push into your mouth, an upsurge of sensations overwhelms you: the hardness of him filling your mouth, the taste of him combining with your saliva, and the sting of tears welling up in your eyes. Despite this, a pleasure runs through your veins, sparking a burning yearning within you, you want more of him, desperately.

Jongseong's voice cut through the veil of your shared satisfaction, "You're doing so well, Sweetheart," he says, his words a calming symphony contrasting to the burning in your throat.

You respond with a muffled moan, your mouth full as you eagerly take him in, your body responding instinctively to his every touch.

"I love how you take me," Jongseong whispers, his voice laced with reverence and desire, "You're so good for me. You were born to suck on my cock.”

His words alone are making your clit throb and you can’t take the emptiness, so, you reach down and dip your hand into your panties, circling your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. He continues chanting your praises, so lost in the feeling of your mouth that he hasn’t noticed you seek your own pleasure.

As Jongseong continues to revel in the pleasure of your mouth, a sudden interruption jolts him from his trance-like state. Feeling the subtle shift in your movements, he realises what you’re up to.

With a swift motion, he withdraws from your mouth, his grip firm on your head as he pulls you up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, a mix of desire and admonition as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and needy, beneath him.

"Sweetheart, what do you think you're doing?" he chides, his voice low but commanding, “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, did it?"

“N-no…I just need you so bad, Jongseong.”

Your quivering voice of desperation makes Jongseong’s knees weak, that playful yet needy glint in your eye begging him to take you on the altar. He knows he has to punish you but you look so fucking sweet with your lips plump and drool on either side of your mouth that he’s almost forgiving you. You speak about the power the dolls have, but you have no idea the power you hold over them.

But he knows he can't let your transgression go unpunished. With a sigh, he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm. "I understand, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice tinged with feigned regret, "But rules are rules, and I can't make exceptions."

You accidentally let out a groan of frustration, rubbing your thighs together, hoping the friction can tide you over until he touches you.

sighing, Jongseong reaches out to caress your trembling thighs, his touch gentle yet possessive, "I know you're desperate," he murmurs into your neck, teasingly hovering over your nape with his lips, “So get on the fucking altar.”

With a whimper of surrender, you comply without hesitation, the anticipation of what's to come heightening your senses as you hoist up on the alter, positioning yourself on the edge. Every nerve in your body hums with anticipation, the need for his touch driving you to the brink of madness.

You’re glad that you wore a sundress today, planning to have a fun girls' day with Mia had its benefits even if it went horribly wrong.

In an instant, he rips off your panties, tossing them in the alter bowl haphazardly and hikes the skirt of your dress to your waist. Your pussy looks so delectable that he thinks prolonging stuffing you with his cock might be a punishment to himself rather than you.

But Jongseong is a man of his word, and if he doesn’t let Soonyeol away with anything, he certainly can’t let you.

He slaps your thigh sharply, a red mark appearing instantly against your skin, “Move back,” he demands, slapping your thigh once again. His tone is authoritive so you do as you’re told, not wanting to disappoint him anymore.

You spread your legs without direction, hoping your compliance will warrant an early yield in your punishment, whatever it may be. Jongseong licks his lips and smiles triumphantly, falling into your trap.

Yet, just as you begin to feel a glimmer of relief, Jongseong's hand comes down with brutal force, striking your pussy with a harsh slap that echoes through the room. The pain is searing, making you cry out in shock and agony, the sound reverberating off the walls as your body recoils from the impact. Each consecutive smack creates a new wave of pain, coupled with a surge of stimulation that makes you dizzy with sensations.

With each hit, Jongseong's expression regret, yet his actions are a contradiction of brutality, "I'm sorry, Princess," he says between strikes, his voice heavy with sorrow, even as his hand strikes you again, "I know it hurts but every act of defiance deserves punishment," Jongseong whispers, his voice an odd soothing balm, "We’re almost done, just two more, you can handle that right?”

His question, paired with the gentle caress of his fingers against your throbbing pussy, relaxes you, knowing that he meant it when he said he would stop if you wanted him to. Even now, as he looks at you, he's silently permitting you to end this.

But you don't want to. Not yet. The ache between your legs, the desperate need for him, drives you to endure just a little longer, "I can take it, Jongseong," you utter, your voice steady despite the trembling of your body. With a slow exhale, you brace yourself for the final two strikes, determined to prove your endurance and earn the reward awaiting you.

Jongseong's gaze softens with admiration, his hand hovering momentarily before delivering the next blow, "You're so strong, Princess," he murmurs, his voice laced with genuine admiration, "I'm proud of you."

The words, spoken amid your ordeal, fill you with a sense of validation, a reassurance that despite the pain, you're still cherished and valued in his eyes. Even though he warned you this would happen and you disobeyed him, he still gives you praise.

He delivers the last smack with force, putting punctuation on the end of your punishment, hoping that you’ve learned your lesson. And by fuck you have.

Bringing you forward, he sits you up straight, "You've done so well," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead, "Now, let me take care of you."

Without hesitation, he takes his cock and slides himself inside your throbbing pussy, the sensation being both a culmination of need and a reminder of the pain you've endured.

But as he begins to move within you, the rhythm of his thrusts slow and deliberate, you find yourself surrendering to the pleasure that washes over you. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming as you finally get what you've been craving for.

You moan softly, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.

But just as you feel yourself on the brink of ecstasy, Jongseong pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for more. "Please," you whimper, your voice thick with need.

Jongseong's fingers find their way to your throbbing clit, flicking it with expert precision, "Not yet, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, "I want to make this last."

The sensation is electrifying, sending you reeling with desire as Jongseong teases you mercilessly. "Jongseong," you plead, your voice a desperate cry for more but he only chuckles, his touch driving you to the edge of sanity as he pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

And then, just when you think you can't take it any longer, he plunges back inside you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the edge of oblivion once more, "Yes!" you cry out, your body arching against his as pleasure consumes you.

Just as you're about to tip over the edge, Jongseong grips your throat gently, his touch both commanding and reassuring, posing no real threat, "You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he grabs your attention, "Yet, you've been so bad. Snooping around, looking at things you shouldn't, fucking things that aren't yours." There’s a sly grin on his face as he pulls out again, leaving your hole clenching around nothing, tears threatening to fall as your impending orgasm is ripped away from you again.

Jongseong continues to torment you, his words cutting through the haze of desire, you can't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you, "Was the last punishment enough for everything you've been up to?" he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and a hint of warning.

Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his stare, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air. You know that you've pushed the boundaries, looking around the mansion even when you promised Sunghoon you wouldn’t, and indulged in pleasures that were not yours to claim.

With a shaky breath, you nod slowly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, Jongseong," you murmur, your heart pounding in your chest, "I've learned my lesson."

“Oh, yeah?” he smirks, looking at the ceremonial bowl prettily decorated with your frilly underwear, “You sure?”

Your desperation mounts as you chant a series of "Yes's," your pleas echoing in the cold air of the room. Every fibre of your being screams for him, the ache between your legs driving you to the brink of madness.

And just when you think you can't bear the anticipation any longer, Jongseong plunges back into you, his gaze still fixated on your underwear. The intensity of his thrusts sends shivers of pleasure running through your hot veins, yet beneath it all, a nagging curiosity tugs at the edges of your consciousness.

If you were in your right mind, you would question his fascination with the garments adorning the ceremonial bowl. As he picks up the frilly underwear with his middle finger, a spike of anticipation plagues you, mingling with the pulsating waves of pleasure emanating from his touch. And then, his voice cuts through the air, commanding and authoritative.

"Spit on them, Sweetheart," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitation, you comply, summoning every ounce of saliva you can muster before releasing it onto the delicate fabric. The sight of your saliva coating the underwear sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of arousal and confusion swirling within you.

But before you can question his motives, Jongseong's touch intensifies, driving you to the brink of ecstasy once more and rips it away as he tosses the underwear into the bowl once more.

“No! Please, please, don’t stop fucking me, Jongseong. I promise I won’t snoop around or do anything without you telling me to.”

Your voice is desperate but you don’t care, if he denies you of your orgasm even just once more, you might die on this altar you’re perched on.

Jongseong's eyes light up with expectation, his hand tightening around your throat in a possessive hold while his other lingers over the ceremonial bowl, his muttering casting a dark spell in a foreign language.

Then suddenly, the crimson light floods the room, the same flash of red that almost blinded you. Terror holds you like a vice, pulling at your senses while flames lick hungrily in the air. Instinct urges you to go, to escape the flame that threatens to engulf you, but Jongseong's grip holds you tied to the altar.

There is no escape.

"Shhh, Princess it's okay, it won't hut you. I just need you to beg me," he says, his stare penetrating through the chaos with uncompromising focus, his left hand now sliding to tap on your clit with planned precision, sending waves of thrill surging through your body as he continues, lips hovering yours in a whisper, “Let Hell hear how much you need my cock.”

Hell.

The fire that is burning your skin beside you, that’s what you saw that day through the keyhole, you came face to face with the underworld. And now Jongseong’s opened it up beside you.

Summoning every ounce of courage you possess, you meet his gaze, your voice a trembling whisper as you utter the words he demands. "Please, Jongseong," you beg, the desperation in your tone echoing through the dimly lit chamber, "Fuck me, I need your cock so fucking bad."

His grasp on your throat tightens somewhat, a subtle acceptance of your surrender. With a hungry grin, he moves in closer, his breath hot on your ear, whispering pretty promises, and as his hand continues to work its magic on your clit, you totally yield to him despite the fear rising inside you.

Kissing you, he fucks back into you, letting go of your throat and focusing all his attention on making you feel good, his hands finding home on your hips.

The more you moan, the more intense the fire becomes, some of the flicker burning your arm. Jongseong notices your unease and focuses your eyes to look only at him, “It can’t hurt you, I wouldn’t let them,” he whispers, his words causing more confusion but you’re already so far gone, lost in the feeling of his cock punching into your cervix that you can’t question him.

"You're doing fucking amazing, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration and desire. "I want you to scream my name, let all those fucks know what a good girl you are, that you’ll never be like them.” His jab at those below you in the underworld makes your skin tingle.

With each thrust, pleasure courses through you like wildfire, igniting every nerve ending and leaving you breathless with ecstasy. And as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, you heed Jongseong's command, your screams echoing through the chamber as you give yourself over to him.

The flames in the bowl seem to dance to the rhythm of you and Jongseong’s passionate encounter, with each blow of his cock piercing your open, the more you cry out, and that excited the crimson glow.

As the intensity of your pleasure builds to a crescendo, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, every fibre of your being yearning for release. And with one final, desperate cry, you let go, surrendering yourself completely to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that wash over you.

Jongseong feels you coming undone and follows suit, his cock twitching inside you and hips pushing him as far as he can reach inside you.

Once the fires begin to fade, leaving just embers blazing gently in the darkness, you feel yourself returning to reality, your senses gradually returning to you. You notice the air is thick with the odour of burnt cloth and the remains of the fire that previously raged around you.

With a shock, you look down and notice the charred remains of your underwear smouldering in the ceremonial bowl, the flames having eaten them in their fervour. Panic grabs you for a minute, but suddenly Jongseong's voice breaks through the quiet, his words a calming salve.

"I get why the others are obsessed with you, Y/N," he says, his tone filled with admiration and longing, "You belong here, I know you do."

Despite his assuring words and gentle touch as he slips out of you, his hands soothing where he has left marks, lingering questions gnaw at the edges of your mind. "Jongseong," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "what was that fire? And what did you mean by 'those fucks' down there? Was it hell?"

Jongseong’s expression softens, his fingers gently caressing your thighs, his actions were stupid and selfish in the name of his brothers and Soonyeol. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, but he just had to show you off, let everyone know that you were his at least once, “Y/N," he says softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and concern, "there are some things you're better off not knowing. Trust me."

His words give you pause but you’re sick of the secrecy now, “Tell me, Jongseong. I will find out one way or another,” you press him, hoping your tone is half as commanding as he was, “Just tell me, what the fuck was that?”

“Go to Heeseung. He can explain it far better than I can and to be honest, I don’t want to see your face when you find out,” he says suddenly, his tone firm but gentle. Confusion flickers in your eyes, but before you can question him further, Jongseong presses a tender kiss to your forehead, “I will warn you though, Sweetheart, he won’t take kindly to being last.”

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #jay smut #jongseong smut #jay x reader #aj writes #park jongseong smut #the doll house #enhypen fic

1K notes · View notes

rerefundslocals · 3 months

Text

CLOSER TO YOU

Summary : Jungkook missed your important merger event for your company and a promotion you've been anticipating, he's apologizing for the wrong things, however it makes you love him harder.

>>pairing : jungkook x fem!reader

>>genre : angst, smut , fluff

>>trope : established relationship

>>warnings : mechanic!jungkook (not mentioned alot), corporate!reader, unprotected sex, dirty talk(min), spanking, oc is a creamer and squirter,rough missionary, neck kisses, makeout sesh, very light dom/sub tones, they really just cute.

>>word count : I'll add later.

[a/n : I'm bacckkk, I wrote this all in one sitting,my writers block is over and I will be writing a lot more when I have a chance cause school is kicking my ass omg! thank you for all the follows, this is my little treat to you. Enjoy!! reblog, reblog, reblog, that's how Tumblr works, but anything will suffice for now! come talk to me and send requests, I don't bite<3 p.s this is heavily unedited]

[listen to : closer to you - jungkook. if I ain't got you - alicia keys. bloom - aqyila]

(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)

It's thick

The tension between you and jungkook.

You could not believe it yourself when Jungkook showed up an hour later after the merger event of your company, not when he promised to be there.

It was insufferable to face your colleagues without a plus one while their partners had held their hands the whole night. Marie did not bite her tongue when it came to asking you about where your partner was.

Yes, you were incredibly embarrassed and just contemplated staying in the bathroom stalls the entire night.

You have a scowl on your faces as you sit in the passenger seat of Jungkooks fucked Nissan Almera. Jungkook does not make attempts to apologize and it has been that way since he picked you up and quite frankly you're getting sick of it.

"Jungkook, seriously! Are you not going to fucking apologize for how you embarrassed me tonight?!" You finally let it out, screaming into the space of the car.

Jungkook avoids your question and simply presses on the gas to get home faster. There's no traffic tonight.

You huff as you cross your arms and stare daggers at Jungkooks side profile. "So, I'm just gonna talk to myself then?" Again, no reply.

However the lack of response from your boyfriend does not stop you as you relay to give him a piece of your mind. "I just wanted you to show up, Jungkook for the one time I ask you to accompany me and this is how you fucking treat me?" You take a deep breath as you continue.

"Fine. Miss three dates that I've planned for us, but missing this important opportunity of my life...you must not love me, Kook."

"Don't say that." Jungkook finally whispers into the car. He just wants to fucking get home, But that's another 10 minutes.

You laugh, but its not full of humor, it's an annoyed breath of laughter. " and why not, Jungkook?" You question

He turns to look at you as you're stopped at a red light and his eyes look heavy and tired, hair disheveled and clothes wrinkled up. "If you wanna talk, we'll do it when we get home. Please. I'm begging you, baby."

You stay looking at him and your eyes never leave each other until the sound of a honk takes you both out of your daze as Jungkook drives off, not once waiting for your response.

A sigh is heard in the car and you turn to look at the city lights, hopefully he gets the hint that you'll have the conversation at home.

10 minutes later you're finally home and out of your heels, however you do not waste time getting back into the conversation.

"So why, Jungkook, why weren't you there? Did you know I got a promotion? And you weren't fucking there to stand by my side. Worst of all, Marie threw it all in my face. So where the fuck were you?" You've rambled but you're angry so Jungkook isn't mad in the slightest.

You've always loved the fact that he is incredibly understanding.

"I'm scraping the floors, ____. I'm barely getting by to pay our fucking rent so sue me for taking an extra shift at the workshop so you can get all the nice things you want." He responds to you, running his hands through his jet black hair.

You look around the gloomy apartment as you pretend to not understand what he had just said to you. The kitchen light shines on you both as you're both sat at the bar stools at your counter.

"I'llet you know that I don't need any nice things, I just want you. You're the only-"

"but I wanna give you all the nice things you want and I'll work twice as hard to give you anything."

It's as if he doesn't get it, he's the only thing you'll ever need.

Your head is hung low as tears gather at your waterline, you'd hate for Jungkook to see you cry cause you know how much he detests it. He fucking hates it.

"I-I love you so much, Kook. But as much as I do, I don't need nice stuff, I need you to be there for me, we just need each other. So stop taking extra shifts, I'm working as well and we can have nice stuff if we just love each other and be there for each other. Okay?"

Your voice sounds heavy, the tears have hit the counter and your back is being rubbed by Jungkook.

To avoid further arguments although he doesn't fully agree, he makes an oath to himself to get a better job and get you a life worth of all the beautiful things you want.

"Okay, baby. I'm sorry, I'll be there for you all the time. You know I love you, right? You're my favorite girl." It felt like years since you've heard Jungkooks heartful chuckle.

He lifts you by your shoulders and forces you to look at him, "I said you know that I love you, right?" You stare lovingly in his brown Bambi eyes as you nod.

Finally, he circles his arms around your waist, standing up as he brings your face into his chest.

You feel complete and whole as you melt into your boyfriends arms, there's no one like him, you don't think they'll ever be.

You lift your head as you hold out your pinky finger to him, eyes meeting once again, "pinky promise to never leave me."

Jungkooks lips spread into a wide smile as he locks his pinky finger into yours, "I pinky promise, baby."

After what seemed like years you both laugh lightly at each other, pinky fingers still interlocked.

"Mm, you know you can't break that promise." You teasingly say.

Jungkook chuckles and brings your locked fingers to his lips and laying a light kiss on your pinky, "wouldn't ever think of breaking this promise, Princess." He whispers against your pinky.

You sigh out a low 'okay' as you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his lips unto yours. His soft pillowy lips meet yours and you both dive into a passionate kiss, Jungkooks head tilted to the side to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding down to your waist to grip the skin underneath your black bodycon dress.

Your kiss becomes a fury for passion and lovemaking as your tongue envelops Jungkooks mouth and a soft moan can be heard throughout the kitchen as you moan into Jungkook mouth.

Jungkook peels off your mouth, leaning in to attack your neck in a series of kisses.

"K-kook, please!" You need him so bad, your breath is hitched as you fight for air and your moans are being progressively loud from Jungkook eating your neck.

He lifts his head up, going straight to undress you, you're peeled of your seat and onto your feet. Your dress is stripped off and you're only left in your skimpy black thong, your plump ass all bare for Jungkook as well as your tits.

Jungkook takes your lips once again, leaning down to pick you up and as he does, he balances you with both hands on your ass and wastes no time laying a slap upon both cheeks and greedily squeezing a handful as you let out moans into his mouth like a mad woman. "Fucking love your ass." He practically groans into your mouth.

Soon, you're backed into your shared bedroom and jungkook throws you onto the bed.

Jungkook tears his clothes off layer by layer until he's left naked and his dick fully hard and bare of any hair is on show.

He spreads your legs as he settles between them, and pulling your thong to the side as he swipes a finger between your folds. "You're so fucking wet, all this for me?"

You can't seem to focus when Jungkook pushes in two fingers into your puckered hole, his speed taking off as soon as he feels you around him. "O-oh fuck, Kook!"

"Mmhm, that's it baby, taking my fingers so well." He fingers you for another 10 seconds until he's pulling out and immediately replacing his fingers with his pink tip, slowly sliding into you tight and wet walls.

"Ohh fuck!" You both moan at the same time, the feeling of his dick deep into your stomach as he starts his strokes off slow.

Your eyes are barely open as jungkook goes at a relentless speed, thrusting into your pussy as if you owed him something.

"That's is baby, cream all over this dick, and spread your fucking legs higher." You're drunk on his cock as he fucks you missionary, feeling him in your organs.

"I'm gonna cum, Kook!" The knot is getting tighter as you feel your wetness trickling down your thighs and your creamy essence coating Jungkooks dick.

"Cum for me, baby. You deserve it. Cum all over this dick." That's all it takes for you to release all over Jungkook, as a scream is let out from the depth of your lungs.

"Good girl." He never stops thrusting as he chases his high, Jungkook presses onto your stomach as he groans, as he feels his high approaching. He's sweaty above you, his dry hair now wet and stringy.

Your moans and Jungkooks are in sync as you feel your tummy tightening once again.

"Fuckk!" Jungkook finally cums and releases his load into your pussy, and you follow right after, squirting all over his lower abdomen.

"Shit." You let out as jungkook rolls over you as he watches you gather yourself.

He gets up and gets a warm wet towel for you. Jungkook cleans himself up and you. Soon after he dresses you up in fresh panties and his shirt and for himself he gets boxers and joins you in bed after an eventful night.

Your head is on his chest as you play with is belly button and Jungkook is in deep thought.

"I'm sorry, baby. For tonight." He finally says and your heart relaxes.

"Let's forget about that. You're here right now, that's all that matters."

"Congratulations on your promotion, I love you, Princess." You're surprised he even remembers and all you can do is let out a squeal.

"Thank you, and I Love you."

"I know." His tone is cocky, not that you care but you're giddy as you lean up to lay a peck on his lips.

There's no where else you'd rather be. That's what you declare.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

original work of @rerefundslocals do not copy, translate or repost as your own! est. 2024

#bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook #bts army #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts jk #rerefundslocals

1K notes · View notes

totheblood · 17 days

Text

white horse

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer notices a change in you and helps you in his own spencer way

warnings: mostly fluff, grief mentions.

a/n: wrote this short thing to fix my spencer reid obsession! AI AUDIOS in the fic also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 1k

"my heart always wants to run."

Spencer was unfocused.

The hum of the air conditioner in the precinct wasn’t enough to drown out the thousands of thoughts in his head. What he should have been doing was analyzing the geographical profile of the current unsub, maybe even collecting witness statements or completing paperwork, but no. Spencer Reid was unfocused on the case and completely focused on you.

Ever since Hotch presented the case your entire body language had changed. It was like you had folded in on yourself, deflated in a way that made Spencer’s heart crunch. On the flight to LA, you nervously bit at your nails as the team spoke, bouncing ideas off each other, not contributing to the conversation like you usually did. You took a backseat in this case and for the life of him, Spencer couldn’t figure out why.

The minute you joined the BAU you were as elusive as they came. You barely spoke about yourself, never attended group gatherings, and kept conversations strictly professional. Spencer used to brainstorm reasons as to why you were so reserved, but he stopped once he started thinking of ways to get you to like him.

He would bring you the mini muffins from the cafeteria that were always sold out by noon, but you would always politely decline and claim you had just eaten. He would sit next to you on the jet and make small talk to which you replied with one-word answers. He always made an effort to include you in conversations not pertaining to work but you just would not budge. The only time he got a glimpse into the real you was when he made a stupid off-hand joke about Aristotle and you chuckled from your desk. He did his best to ignore the feeling that swelled in his chest.

Now he was getting a glimpse into your life in a way that he didn’t expect. You were on edge. Something about this case was personal to you. He noticed it in the way you took small gasps every time a new body was found, or how you opted to do paperwork instead of being in the field. As someone who has seen you do a million takedowns with a smile on your face, Spencer knew something was wrong when you opted to stay back. The unsub was kidnapping pairs of sisters, murdering one, and letting the other live. It was gruesome and cruel, and he was accelerating. Spencer should have been doing literally anything to help, but his attention was on you.

“I can feel you staring,” you breathed from your place at the large conference table, not looking up from the paperwork.

“Oh, uh-” Spencer fumbled as he sat up, “I’m not- I wasn’t really staring, I would say I was observing.”

You put your pen down and looked up at him, eyes squinted as you looked at his face, “Why?”

There was an edge to your voice, like you were already pissed and he was just making it worse.

“Well, you usually write faster, you have a notch in between your eyebrows like you’re thinking really hard about something, or trying not to. And you, uh, scratch the back of your ear when you’re nervous,” he blurted out, sitting up straighter, “and uh, I wanted to make sure you were… okay,”

His last sentence made you sit up straighter as your whole face softened. You looked down at the papers in front of you then back up at him, “I didn’t realize anyone noticed,” you whispered voice low.

“Well,” he started, getting up and moving to sit down next to you, “you’re one of us… aaand we’re profilers, we kind of notice these things.”

You let out a small laugh as you shook your head and looked up at him. His hazel eyes were practically sparkling as he stared at you. If you were being completely honest, it was intimidating.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been,” you squint your eyes, thinking of the word to think of, “distant. I’m just not used to all of this, it’s overwhelming.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said almost instantly, voice soft, “This job is a lot, I don’t blame you. But today… this case,” his voice trailed off.

You took a deep sigh, resting your hands in your hands as you shut your eyes for a minute before you spoke, “My sister… she died. I don’t want to talk about it but, this case reminds me of it. Reminds me of her.”

“I understand,” Spencer hummed, in such a soft voice that it almost instantly soothed you.

“God, it happened so long ago I just don’t understand why I can’t get over it,” you shook your head, rubbing at your face before speaking again, “it’s like every time I remember it, I shut down. It’s like I’m broken or something.”

Spencer paused for a moment, looking you over before speaking, “Did you know that grief can actually alter your brain chemistry? Research has shown that the intense emotions associated with grief can increase levels of cortisol which can impact memory and cognitive function. In fact, there's evidence suggesting that the brain of a grieving person might resemble that of someone with a traumatic brain injury.”

You looked over at him, eyes a little wide as if you were taking in everything he just said.

“I don’t know if that helps but-” Spencer started but was cut off by the sound of your voice.

“It helps,” you breathed a laugh, “it really helps, so uh, thanks.”

“You know, I’m always here if you need someone to talk to-” He spoke before tumbling over his words, “I mean we’re all here if you need someone, not just me but all of us.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile which he returned, “Thank you, Spencer,” you looked back at your paper before glancing back at him, “I might take you up on that offer.”

With his cheeks tinged pink, he nodded, picked up his messenger bag and exited the precinct conference room where Derek was stood in the doorway, clapping a hand on his back as he exited, “You’re in deep, pretty boy,” he commented with a laugh.

“Shut up,” Spencer said under his breath, his cheeks now growing a shade or two darker.

You had said maybe the most you ever had to him in your entire four months of working there and Spencer left the room blushing. He was for sure in deep.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic

577 notes · View notes

emsgoodthinkin · 11 months

Text

[18+] virgin you breaking out of your own shell with Eddie

He wanted to take his sweet time with you. Soothe you, flirt with you, small dainty little touches here and there.

You’ve been together 9 months, he never rushed you into doing anything. You admired him for that. But also loathed it.

Little did he know just how big, filthy and disgusting your fucking brain truly was. You were a shy one. Never one to speak on the things you wanted, you felt shame for it. You gave subtle hints to him but, he never thought you were ready.

Until you were. Until he finally ripped the package of that condom open. Until he had you underneath him. Until he finally pushed inside you. The noise of pleasure and relief you let out. Fucking finally.

Missionary was always a position Eddie was told to have someone in for their first time. Be gentle, take your time don’t rush it.

By the time he bottomed you out, you took all the strength you had to squeeze him back out with your pussy, shove him down.. just so you could ride his cock.

His widened eyes piercing you. Just as he was about to slow down the grinding of your hips, you slap that hand away faster than he could blink.

I’m fucked, he thinks.

“Finally, god yes— feel so good in my tight pussy—fuck!”

“Your cock is so fat and big inside me, fuck me harder daddy.. harder!”

He’s never heard such filth from any girl in his life.

Usually it’s simple “uh, uhs” or “yes” over and over again. Grunts and moans but talking? He was the talker when it came to sex— he thought he was the only one

“How could you?” You slap him

“What baby? What did I do— fuck slow down I’m gonna cum”—

“Make me wait so long for this, so long just to FEEL so good— I hate you, I hate you”—

“Baby I’m sorry-y” Eddie strains in almost a whimpered tone, you’re riding the shit out of him, you. The now ex-virgin YOU has HIM brainless. Speechless

By the time you’ve cum on his cock 3 times, being pent up & sensitive from never having this experience, he holds you in his arms still in shock..

You baby talk him before falling asleep, “don’t ever do that to me again, ok teddy? *yawns* wuv you” Saying all innocent as if nothing ever happened at all.

What the fuck.

reblogs appreciated :>

#eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x virgin!reader #eddie munson x perv!reader #virgin!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson brainrot #soft!eddie munson #eddie munson smut

3K notes · View notes

kaylinababy · 4 months

Text

Favorite Things During Intimacy

⤷ Sanemi | Kyojuro | Tengen | Giyuu

♡ back to portal ♡ demon slayer ♡

tags nsfw, fem!reader, dirty talk, spanking, groping. (lmk if I missed any!)

˗ˏˋ ♡ Shinazugawa Sanemi ♡ ˎˊ˗

The sounds… Each bated breath. Every small gasp. The way you whine when he completely bottoms out, leaving you whining.

How you can’t even form a proper response to his questions.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet. Why you whinin’?” He doesn’t even want an answer to them, your whimpers are plenty. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.” He never means it.

The sound of your pussy being aggressively pounded by his cock.

Each squelch, each clap, the bed creaking…

“Your pussy loves talking to me, huh?” He grits his teeth as he hears the whines that you release with every one of his thrusts.

“Fuck yeah.” He chants in sync with your moans, “Oh fuck yeah-” His panting matching yours as he cums inside you. His favorite place, because your moans are just so delicious and loud for him.

˗ˏˋ ♡ Rengoku Kyojuro ♡ ˎˊ˗

The touches… How he touches you as if he’s molding dough.

The way you hold onto his muscular arms for dear life as he enters you for the first time, loving how you occasionally squeeze them.

Speaking of squeezing, he loves how you clench onto his cock when he moves just a tad too fast for you, too soon.

How your thighs squeeze his head as his tongue explores your insides.

The way your shaky and hesitant hands grasp at his hair, feeling too many tingles to express how good you feel.

When he’s all up in your face, chest to chest, and he studies your face as he inserts his fingers into you, his own eyes fluttering as he feels you clench those as well.

How you shake in his arms as he makes you cum for him… “Relax, my beauty.” Why would he want you to? He’s just trying to comfort you before you lose your mind earlier than he expected.

˗ˏˋ ♡ Uzui Tengen ♡ ˎˊ˗

The smiles… but of course, not your smiles.

His wide smile, showing how amused he is at every occurrence while in bed with you.

He smiles at the way your face contorts as he sinks into your from a bizarre angle.

“Do you like this?” Tengen smiles down at you as his large calloused hands shamelessly grope your body as he brainstorms what the next position will be.

He’s so entertained by how you have a surprised look on your face every time he manhandles you.

“What about this?” He suddenly slaps your ass before he shimmies down on the bed, laying your back on his chest before he aligns his length.

“Be ready.” But you never fail to gasp for him, never expecting him to slap your clit with it, making him show his pearly whites as you whimper.

˗ˏˋ ♡ Tomioka Giyuu ♡ ˎˊ˗

The facial expressions you make… How you plead without words.

The way he makes your pouty lips form an O before you begin begging for him to go faster.

How you try to speak before he soothes out your frown lines when he just can’t stop after he cums the first time.

“It just feels too good, so good…” Your palms pressed against his chest, trying to stop him from going further.

“Hold me. Hold me.” He mumbles, looking down at your wrinkled face as you let out long whines for him.

Your hands unable to do anything but grip the sheets as you're ass up, posing for him as he holds your hips so tightly.

Giyuu can only imagine how beautiful your face will look as his cum drips off your tongue.

kaylinababy please do not copy | ty for the ♡ & reblogs!

425 notes · View notes

moonlight-prose · 1 year

Text

IT WILL COME BACK

a/n: this man won the poll and in all honesty, i couldn't stop myself from writing for tommy miller. have you seen him? he's fine as fuck. which resulted in this. in my head i will just make this a small collection of drabbles compiled on a masterlist. so after this i'll reblog prompts you can request more from that tie into this fic. since i have my joel series going i won't make this a full series (yet). either way i hope you enjoy.

summary: mornings in the kitchen with him made life worthwhile.

word count: 4.1k+

pairing: pre-outbreak tommy miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, oral (f receiving), floor sex, p in v sex (not really though), spitting, tommy miller being a little shit, fluff, romance.

Sunlight attempted to break through your curtains; the sheer white blocking anything but the warmth. You felt it creep along the bed, encasing you in a bundle of blankets that trapped the sun’s glow. Shifting to your side, you expected to feel him there. Feel the broad expanse of his chest as you reached out with still closed eyes.

You found nothing but the cold sheets instead.

The first thing that ran through your mind as your eyes fluttered open, was that he must have woken up early enough to head out to work. It would explain why you never heard him leave. While he may share your bed at night, this wasn’t his home. Not entirely.

The drawer you emptied for him only held a flannel or two—mainly for you to use—but nothing essential remained. At night his touch, his body, was yours but once morning came, they were nothing but a lingering memory that stuck to the edges of your mind. If it weren’t for his scent that still remained on the blankets—you would have thought you imagined him.

With a sigh, you sat up. The sheets pooled at your waist, exposing your bare chest. It’s not like you needed him here in the morning, but waking up alone always felt hollow without him. Tommy turned your house into a space you actually found solace in, but the serenity never truly lasted. So, you were left with no other choice but to swallow the pain like it was medicine.

When in fact it was poisoning you slowly; Tommy simply remained your antidote.

Searching through the drawer, you pulled out one of his flannels. More than happy to be wrapped up in his scent.

Eventually, the time would come when you would have to go about your day, and the memory of last night would shift into becoming just that. A memory. But for now you basked in the afterglow that still stuck to your skin.

The urge to tell Tommy what you were feeling would have normally come out sooner or later. But this feeling, this aching loneliness that ate away at the inside of your body, was something you kept to yourself. If he knew how him leaving each morning affected you, he would let the guilt fester in his heart. Because that was his weakness at the end of the day. It wasn’t you, but the feeling that his actions caused you to hurt.

You found that it was better to keep him in the dark, than to burden him with something that would ultimately change the trajectory of your relationship. It was easier this way. Or at least that was a belief you continued to tell yourself. You loved him, this he knew, and he loved you all the same. But the future was a topic that terrified you enough to keep it hidden until things could one day be different.

The scent of coffee filled the bedroom. You figured the timer on the machine must have gone off, starting the brew. That became your alarm most days, the aroma of a good cup of coffee usually pulled you out of bed faster than an alarm.

Tightening the flannel around your bare body, you made your way downstairs, instantly regretting forgetting your slippers as your feet connected with the cold hardwood floors. You wouldn’t be down here long, ready to grab a cup of coffee and crawl back into the safety of your blankets. Yet the sound of a crooning southern voice playing softly in the background and someone humming along, stopped you in the doorway of the kitchen.

Tommy stood at the stove, attempting to flip what you assume was an omelet at one point. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew his expression. The furrow of his eyebrows as he concentrated, his lips pursed in frustration when things didn’t exactly go his way.

“Good morning,” you said, drawing his attention away from the catastrophe on the stove.

He turned, his chest and stomach on display. You felt heat creep up your face at the sight of the dark hickeys that trailed down into his jeans. Last night was still a slight blur, but you could vividly recall leaving those—marking him as yours. A wild need to possess him took you over as he was sprawled out beneath your body. Other times you would feel the slight tinge of embarrassment creep into your mind, but you knew he loved it.

“You’re up,” he responded, his eyes dragging down the expanse of your bare legs. His flannel only covered so much—leaving you open and free for him to admire. “I was making you breakfast.” His tongue swept along his bottom lip. You wondered if you left a slight bruise from where you had sucked it into your mouth.

“Smells good.”

He smiled, turning back to flip off the burner. “Smells like burnt shit, but thanks for lying.”

Moving around the table, you slid your hands up his back, lips pressing to his shoulder and suddenly…the ache disappeared. Retreating to the far reaches of your mind, giving you the peace you needed. Sighing against his skin, you felt him shiver beneath your touch. You know his reaction by heart now. Could practically see the way his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the pleasure of your touch grounding him.

Tommy would forever be a man with a mission. Never once able to sit still long enough to not fly away, but you were the gravity holding him down. You were the reason he hadn’t left this town yet. Though he left every morning, there still remained the guarantee that no matter what, he’d return once the sun went down. Falling into your bed with whispered promises he would eventually break, and a love that was sweeter than honey.

“I thought you had work this morning,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist, his hands shifting to rest over yours.

“Called Joel while you were asleep. Told him I’d be coming late.”

You hummed, hand dragging slowly down his stomach. “I bet he wasn’t happy about that.”

The soft huff of laughter he let out made your heart beat just a bit quicker. But it was the soft groan that rumbled in his chest as your hand dipped into his jeans, that had a fresh wave of slick pooling out of you. He was already hard, his cock heavy in your hand as you slowly palmed him. The realization made you throb, the heady dizziness of lust rushing over you. Wrapping your hand around his length, you felt him twitch, dragging another grunt from him.

If you had the time, you’d drop to your knees for him there in the kitchen. Make him see stars the way he did to you last night. But Joel was an impatient man when it came to Tommy. You knew he only had barely an hour tops and you wanted him inside you before the time ran out.

He turned quickly, forcing you to let go of him. The small sound of protest you let out, cut off by his lips, his hand wrapping gently around your throat to keep you there, tongue delving into your mouth with ease. Tommy knew what made you melt into his body, knew how to drag out all manner of sounds from you, and you gave in willingly. You were his to mold. His to have.

“Baby,” he breathed, his fingers digging into your ass, dragging you closer. “I can feel you soakin’ my jeans.”

A wet moan was pressed to his jaw. Your hips rolled over his denim clad thigh that was slotted between your legs. You knew you were leaving a wet spot on the fabric—that he’d have to wear these jeans to work probably—but you couldn’t care. Not when you felt the fabric catch on your clit, sending a shock through your body.

“Want you,” you gasped, nails digging into his chest. “I need you inside me.”

He moaned, hips grinding against yours. You felt him pull down his flannel, cupping your breast in his palm, thumb running over your peaked nipple, before he dipped down and took it into his mouth. Gasping, your head fell back, hips rolling over his leg even faster as the pleasure continued to mount in your body. Heat spilling into every part of you, burning you from the inside out.

“Tommy.”

He groaned as you pulled at his curls, dragging his lips back to yours. If there was a place you’d want to spend forever with, it was here with him. Wrapped up in your small safe haven of just each other. No one else existed when you were with Tommy. He consumed you, yet you gave into it without question. There was no one else for you and he knew it.

Dragging the piece of fabric off your body, his calloused palms ran along your skin, sending a shiver through your body at his light touch. You whimpered, barely able to open your eyes due to the dizziness clouding your mind. He smiled at your reaction, eyes dark with lust and yet somehow within the brown, you saw the light he had within. The light you ached for.

There he was, pouring it into you with each kiss pressed to your skin. He promised you forever without saying it and you wanted so badly for him to keep it this time.

“Take me upstairs baby,” you breathed into his mouth, hand feeling his stomach clench as you pressed your palm to his hot skin.

He shook his head. “Can’t do that ma’am.”

“What?” Pulling back, you felt him smile against your throat, his teeth sinking into your skin a moment later. “W-why?” you rasped, fingers curling around his hair in an effort to grasp onto something stable.

“Want to eat you,” he mumbled against you, teeth closing around your earlobe and tugging. “And I eat my meals in the kitchen.”

If it were any other time and his fingers weren’t inching towards your aching clit, you would have laughed. Told him he was an idiot in the most loving voice you could muster—your emotions bubbling over with a single look from him. But before you could get the word out, his fingers circled your clit, causing you to sag into his hold. You buried your head into his neck, your cry muffled against his skin as he built the rapidly growing pressure in your stomach.

“You gonna come for me honey?” You nodded, hips rolling over his thigh faster in an attempt to get there, to feel the hot bliss wash over your skin. “I know you want to.”

“Tommy,” you panted, nails digging into his shoulder. “Please.”

He groaned, fingers digging down to spread you, your slick practically dripping down his hand. “You sound so fuckin’ pretty when you beg. Alright honey, I got you.”

You keened when he pressed you down harder on his thigh, guiding you through the small stunted thrusts. Vaguely you were aware of how much time was passing, but the worry that he’d leave soon was washed from your mind the second he pinched your clit between his fingers. You sobbed into his neck, eyes rolling back as the dam finally broke, your body going taut—pleasure flooding you. It practically spilled out of you, overwhelming every part of your being, and Tommy kept going.

He pushed and pulled your hips, dragging you along his thigh and smearing your cum along the fabric until they were good and ruined. The pleasure continued to build, burning so hot inside you that you could barely see straight. If you weren’t careful you wouldn’t be able to find a way back to yourself, but maybe that’s what he wanted. Maybe he wanted to ruin you so perfectly, you’d never be the same after him.

Although who were you kidding. There’d never be anything after Tommy.

“Oh god oh god,” you chanted, your withering moan being swallowed by his lips colliding with yours.

Spit trailed down your chin as he pulled away. The two of you combined; you expected him to wipe it away. Only he smeared it across your cheek, his dark eyes following his thumb as it dragged along your skin.

“On the floor,” he said, his voice gruff and thick with lust.

Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have been able to deny him. Your mind had settled into that sweet spot of numbness that allowed him to maneuver your body in any way he pleased. Without realizing it, you found yourself spread on the kitchen floor, his flannel now parted to reveal the expanse of your naked body. A sight that Tommy was indulging himself in.

“So damn beautiful,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your waist, fingers stroking the side of your breast. “And all fuckin’ mine.”

Your body jolted, a shaky breath leaving you as he dropped down your body. Lips kissing and teeth biting along your hips—the dichotomy of pleasure and pain turning the molten burn into a raging fire. If there’s one thing you could expect with Tommy it was this. The softness that came with his touch.

He made you fall in love with his laughs, his jokes, but he owned you with his lips—his hands that spread you open, revealing you to his eyes.

“Baby,” you sighed as he pulled your legs up and over his shoulders, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“Yeah honey?”

The small word brought a smile to your lips. “Love you.”

You watched his eyes light up, his lips parting into a smile so big you felt it in your chest. There it was. The reason Tommy could call your heart his. You met him unexpectedly and before you knew it…he had you with that smile alone. He was the one you could call home, the one you saw yourself spending forever with. If only you knew that Tommy felt the exact same way—that the small little box tucked away in his jacket pocket was burning a hole right through his heart at this very moment.

“I love you so damn much,” he said, placing a kiss on your inner thigh.

The clock that hung on the kitchen wall taunted you, telling you that eventually your time with him would be up. That he’d get up, go to work, and leave nothing but the pleasurable ache between your thighs and sore bites up and down your skin. You wanted to capture this moment in your hands, to hold it close when he left. But all you could do was remain in it—savor his touch, his lingering love that burned you slowly, sensually.

The first lick of his tongue through your pussy sent a jolt up your body. You gasped, hips canting up slightly to meet his mouth as he moaned into you. Tommy was insatiable when it came to you, this became clear early on in your relationship. What you didn’t know was how enamored he was with your taste. How he craved you constantly. You learned quickly that if you didn’t cut him off, Tommy would spend hours between your thighs.

His lips attached to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and causing your head to fall back against the floor with a soft thud. Sparks littered up your spine, a broken sob of his name echoing off the kitchen walls. You were thankful the floor was so cold, because you were currently overheated, your body desperate for some balance to the madness.

“F-fuck,” you gasped, eyes falling shut, hand digging into his unruly curls. “You’re so good. I’m–fuck Tommy.” Your words broke off into a whine, his tongue pressing against your entrance.

He lost himself, the taste of you becoming an addiction he couldn’t get rid of, but at the end of the day…he wouldn’t want to. His nails scraped along your thighs as he moaned into your pussy, his hips grinding into the floor to appease the need he felt growing. Licking into you, he watched your mouth drop open in a silent sob, your legs shaking with each flick of his tongue along your clit. You wouldn’t last long, he knew this.

Except he was adamant to remain here with you, unwilling to leave until he felt you gush into his mouth.

Lifting his head, he heard your broken whines of protest echo in the air. The small beg to have him keep going caused his cock to throb painfully in his jeans. You were beautiful like this. Incoherent with pleasure and body covered with a sheen of sweat that made you glow in the early morning sunlight. He grinned, licking at his bottom lip, resembling a starved man desperate for another taste of his meal.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, shifting up swiftly to press his lips against yours. Sharing your taste as he licked deeply into your mouth. “My pretty baby.”

“I want you inside me,” you begged, hips bucking up to grind against his. “Please Tommy, need you to fill me—” He cut you off with a sharp gasp, his fingers sliding through your spit slicked pussy.

“‘M not done honey.”

The beg was on the tip of your tongue, another plea to hopefully convince him of what you both wanted. Him spitting into your pussy lewdly cut you off. Your eyes rolled back, his tongue spreading his spit up to your clit, fingers prodding at your entrance. The plea died in your throat—an incoherent cry of his name overtaking as his fingers curled into you, finding the spot along your walls without trying.

Tommy knew your body well enough to notice the signs. The way your legs trembled, how your walls clamped down around his fingers. You were right on the edge and he wanted to see you fly off. Moaning against your pussy one more time, he scraped his teeth gently along your clit, fingers rubbing against your g-spot in quick movements. The pleasure once again built, mind growing hazy with it as he continued to push you until you were right there.

Glancing down, you caught sight of him thrusting his hips against the floor, desperate to get himself there and that did it. You snapped, brokenly sobbing his name as your hips grinded against his mouth. He let you use him, doing his best to continue stimulating you, the wet sound of his fingers thrusting into your pussy now echoing through the room.

Pleasure filled you, burning its way through your body until you could do nothing but silently scream. You tried to catch your breath, but it was stuck—lodged in your chest—forcing you to take in gasps of air. All the way through, Tommy continued to lick and suck at your clit, grunting with each thrust of his hips. He was aching for you, nearly on the edge but unable to fully finish.

“Taste so fuckin’ good honey,” he mumbled drunkenly into your pussy, his eyes shut and mind in a state of delirium. “Shit—” The button of jeans knocked against the floor, his forehead falling to rest on your hip.

“Tommy,” you breathed, fingers curling around his arm and trying to tug him up your body. But not before he kissed above your clit, licking one last time into you.

His hand slapped against the floor above your head, tongue pushing your cum into your mouth and sending a shiver through your body. Even as your shaky hands dipped into his jeans, pulling him out, he still asked to keep tasting you. That’s how things worked in his mind. Seeing you cum was worth more to him than getting off himself.

“Want you to cum,” you mumbled into his mouth, tilting your hips up and notching his cock at your entrance.

“Fuck honey.” He gasped, as you started to fuck yourself on the very tip of his cock, his hand moving down to keep himself steady. “You want me to fill you up?”

You nodded, whining his name against his cheek. “Need it baby.”

Pumping himself in quick strokes, he felt his balls draw up—the tightening in his abdomen nearly causing him to double over. It wouldn’t take him long at all; his release already having built as he ate you out. The feeling of your hand moving to cup his balls did him in. With a hoarse shout he felt something break inside of himself, your walls clamping down around his cock as he finally pushed himself into your pussy.

You sighed at the warm feeling of his cum spurting along your walls, filling you until it dripped down and smeared along your thighs. But nothing compared to the sight of Tommy lost in his own bliss. His mouth dropped open, eyebrows pulling tight as a flush of red took over his face and chest. It would take him a while to come back to you, his mind buzzing from having cum so hard.

With a contented sigh, he pressed the rest of his weight on you. “I’m definitely not making it now,” he mumbled, smiling against your chest.

“I don’t need Joel banging on my front door,” you replied, shoving lightly at his shoulder.

He laughed, teeth sinking into the top of your breast, his cock twitching inside of you. “I’ll call him and tell him…”

“Hey sorry I can’t come in today. Got too busy fucking my girlfriend on the kitchen floor.”

“Perfect.”

“Tommy!”

His head raised, smile pulling so wide you could see the slight crinkle in the corner of his eyes. “I’ll say it in a nicer way.”

“You’ll tell him nothing at all.” You cupped his cheek, lips sliding against his softly. “You will get up, wash your jeans, get another cup of coffee, and get out of here before we incur the wrath of the other Miller.”

He sighed into your mouth. “I don’t want to go.”

Your heart twisted in your chest, the reminder of time once again filling you with a dread you could never escape. Neither of you wanted to part, too wrapped up in what could be. But eventually you would have to open your eyes and see what this was. Just two people who loved each other too much to give this their all. A pattern that would never stop.

“I don’t want you to go,” you admitted, finally letting that painful ache be seen by him.

“Then I won’t—”

“You have to.”

Tommy’s eyes searched yours, trying to find something in him he could fight for. Something that would assure him of that single question still residing on the tip of his tongue. He wanted forever with you. Wanted a house together, a dog or cat, the life that he watched his parents once have. He wanted you.

Before he could stop himself, his mouth was moving.

“I want to marry you.”

Your eyes went wide, heart beating rapidly in your chest. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Silence passed between you for a brief moment, the shock now being replaced with a sinking feeling. He wouldn’t be saying this if it were a different scenario. In fact you were certain that he wouldn’t even go near this topic on any other day.

“This is just the heat of the moment talking, Tommy,” you said, in an attempt to save yourself from the pain.

His eyes narrowed. “No it’s not.”

“You’re still inside me! You shouldn’t be saying this unless you’re sure that—” His hips grinding into yours cut you off as you gasped.

“You want me down on one knee I’ll do that honey. Want me to give you romance and dinner and everything in between? I’ll do it. But you’ve got to know I’m more serious now than I have ever been.”

“Tomm—”

“Before you can continue your argument—which I’ll let ya—let me go get the ring.”

Your jaw snapped shut, breath catching in your chest at the sight of his grin. “You…you have a ring?”

“Yes honey. I do.”

“Y–You’re serious?”

He nodded, his thumb brushing the top of your cheek. “I want forever with you. If you’ll have me.”

If you listened hard enough, you would have been able to hear your heart burst. The ache now vanished the longer you looked him in the eyes to see the truth. It was there you found it. Small hints of a future that you yearned for was now being offered to you and this time the promise he made would stick. Laughing, you pulled him down for a kiss, your legs hiking over his hips to keep him there with you.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he asked, parting from you long enough to simply give you another chaste kiss.

This time it was your turn to nod, tears already streaming down your face. “Yes Tommy. I’ll have you. Forever.”

#tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x y/n #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller #tommy miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fic #my writing

1K notes · View notes

wildestdreamsblog · 3 months

Text

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: If you like this, kindly consider reblogging

Masterlist, Part III of __

The drive back to the hospital was blurry to Seokjin. He reminded himself to give Yoongi a call, after all, he did break a lot of traffic rules and regulations just to arrive at the hospital to…why exactly? Why was he so adamant on driving back to the hospital in such a hurry? What was he to do once he saw the reason for his misery?

What exactly was he to do once he got to you? Once he saw you? And what if you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore?

He didn’t have to think long because there you were- smiling so sweetly at the hospital staff, your absence definitely felt not just by him. Everyone noted your absence. You were the sunshine of the hospital and when you left, he felt…unbelievably cold. Nothing was right in his world and he even found a pimple on his glorious forehead this morning! The audacity of such thing to grow on his otherwise lovely and godly face! All because he stayed up all night tossing and turning! It was all because of you that he wasn’t getting his beauty sleep!

He almost believed that he was really affected by your absence, and he wasn’t…was he???

“Oh, Doctor Kim! You’re back!”

He blinked when he heard his staff greeted him, her eyes holding confusion at his sudden appearance. Seokjin understood her, though. After all, he just left not more than an hour ago. He should be at home resting his beautiful face.

He watched as your back stiffened before slowly, and Gods, ever so slowly turned to him. For the life of him, he didn’t know why his breath hitched when you met his eyes. Or why his heart beat faster when he could finally see you. Or why his heart felt uncomfortable when you left.

Was he experiencing a minor myocardial infarction?!

And heavens, why did his cheeks feel a lot warmer when you smiled at him?! Did he now have to pay his dermatologist a visit?!

“Do you need anything, Doctor Kim?” his staff asked him to break the silence when enough moment had passed and yet, the hospital’s director was merely looking at you.

Kim Seokjin finally blinked, wrenching his eyes from your beautiful ones. Your eyes seemed so soulful. He didn’t know why there was a sudden fluttering in his heart, and he did not care to know why at the moment. Instead, he cleared his throat, his gaze briefly dropping on the table of his staff. “I…left my pen.”

“Your pen,” you repeated with a heavy tone of confusion and disbelief.

And there it was, your first words to him after your week-long absence. He was such an idiot, he thought. In his beautiful life, he never thought he would be reduced to calling himself an idiot when he was brilliant! He was always the top in his classes! He was always quoted in the medical research for his intelligence! He was so clever and for the life of him, he didn’t know why he blurted out that sorry excuse.

But there was no way to get himself out of the hole he dug. “Yup. And look, there it is!” he leaned in to grab the pink and glittery hello kitty pen from the staff’s table. “It has sentimental value,” he murmured as though it was all it took to explain the bizarreness of his presence. “I don’t feel comfortable being without it.”

His staff frowned, her mouth opening to protest. “Sir, that’s my daughter’s-”

“Anyway, now that my presence is perfectly explained,” he quipped up and effectively cutting of his staff, he clapped his hand once before turning his full attention on you, completely ignoring the other person. “Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry?” your head tilted at what you heard. Did you hear him right? Never once did he ask you anything, so why start now?

You looked up at his expressive eyes, his plump lips hanging agape as he grappled for words to explain his unusual question. “I-I mean, the hospital is so understaffed and as the chief, it is my responsibility to make sure that this institution runs smoothly. After all, lives depend on us.”

“Sir, my leave was approved by my direct superior,” you said, trying to reason calmly at him.

“But still, one week is still too long. Next time, don’t be gone for a whole week,” he replied back with an air of finality that you definitely did not appreciate. In your barely restrained annoyance, you walked ahead and pushed the elevator button a little too hard before turning to him. You took a deep breath as he only looked down at you, the ridiculous hello kitty pen still clutched in his hand.

“Doctor Kim,” you started with an emphasis to his title. “I’ve only ever been gone one week a year. One. I work even when I’m sick, I attend to my patients even when it’s holiday, even when it’s my birthday, even during the death anniversary of my parents, or even when I’m not scheduled to be at the hospital. Never once did I careless about any of my patients. So please, don’t make it seem like I don’t care.”

“That’s not what I meant-“

“But that’s what you’re implying, Sir,” you snapped back, locking eyes with him, a resolute expression on your face. He didn’t like it, he realized later on. He had grown accustomed to your soft gaze, accustomed to your face lighting up when you looked at him. And now that you were looking at him with the absence of what he was used to, it didn’t sit right with him.

Kim Seokjin would later on realized that he had always ever wanted you to look at him like that, with that undeniable focus and intensity, solely for him.

You averted your gaze away from his as soon as the elevator bell chimed. You were resolute on entering the elevator and getting away from his vicinity when it opened, revealing a patient along with several nurses and doctors bustling to exit and you were on the verge of being caught in the commotion. You were about to get hit when Seokjin encircled your wrist, swiftly pulling you away from the oncoming gurney pushed by the rushing nurses. His hold on your wrist was firm and your brows inevitably pulled together, a flash of pain passing through your face.

None of that went unnoticed by Seokjin.

Seokjin frowned, his eyes trained on your wrist covered by your white coat while you were watching as they hurried to the operating room. He knew he didn’t pull that hard, too aware of his own strength and too unaware of his desire to never hurt you. You didn’t even feel when he pulled up your sleeve. He did it so softly, a glaring proof how terrified he was of further bringing pain on you, regardless of how he never meant to.

And there they were.

Several bruises of varying intensity marked your beautiful skin. Scattered on your forearms were day-old scrapes that looked like they had started healing after causing you pain.

Seokjin's heart clenched with a mix of remorse and an anger that surged within him, fierce and unbridled.

You finally noticed him when the nurses passed, the gentle way he was holding you was too contrast on how hard his jaw was clenched, his face almost impassive as he glared down at your scrapes and bruises as though they offended him. Your eyes widened as your injuries were exposed to his eyes that you pulled your arm away from his grasp. A silent acknowledgment passed between you, recognizing that he had allowed the release only because his grip had been secure.

“I-I have to go, Doctor Kim,” you couldn’t even meet his eyes as you bade him goodbye. His intensity, a stark departure from his usual demeanor of avoidance, left you unsettled. The memory of his comical attempt to escape you in the hospital lobby flashed in your mind, highlighting the irony of the current situation.

Literally.

He ran away from you once in the hospital lobby and there were several witnesses as the Chief ran as though there was an emergency.

You were about to enter the elevator when he spoke, his voice emotionless, his eyes bore into you with an unsettling coldness. And you could have sworn right then and there that he was an entirely different person that day.

“Who did this to you?”

The question hung in the air, laden with an ominous weight. In that moment, the stark transformation in Seokjin left you grappling with the realization that beneath the goofy and childlike facade you had come to know, there existed a man capable of chilling intensity and a protective instinct that seemed poised to unravel a hidden side of him you had never witnessed before.

You averted your eyes before letting out an awkward chuckle, hyperaware of the eyes on the two of you. “Don’t worry about them.”

It was apparent that that was not good enough explanation for him and you found yourself gulping from the force of his eyes that you were left no choice but to supplement your explanation. The words tumbled out in a hurried confession, “I was cleaning my house, lifting those boxes when I missed my step and fell down the stairs, okay?”

For a moment, Seokjin blinked, and in that subtle shift, the cold intensity dissipated, replaced by a flicker of understanding. There it was—the familiar Seokjin, the one you knew. The tension in the air lifted, and as his features softened, you couldn't help but marvel at the duality that existed within him.

He let out a soft sigh, before taking your wrist in his hand. He looked down at the bruises with heaviness and a touch of sadness in his eyes, his thumb softly running back and forth on them as though he could sooth them.

As though he could take the pain away and make it his own. And in that very moment, Seokjin knew that that was what he wanted- and that strangely, he never wanted to see you in pain. Without a word and uncaring of anyone that was looking at the two of you, he pulled you to his office.

---

“This is really unnecessary, Doc,” you winced as he gently put cream on your healing wounds, his face that of concentration as he sat in front of you.

You found yourself in an uncharted territory. You had never been this close to him knowing full well hat your attraction to him was one-sided. While it was fun for you to chase him around the hospital, you knew there could be nothing more to it. The line between lighthearted pursuit and genuine emotion was a boundary you were careful not to cross. There could be nothing more to it, you reasoned, convinced that your damaged self wasn't fit to be with someone as seemingly perfect as he was.

You knew where you stood.

“Y/N,” he spoke with a kind voice, his eyes still trained on his task. “Can I ask a favor from you?”

“Of course!”

It took a moment for him to answer, and he only did once he deemed his task complete and flawless. Gently, he reached for your sleeves, pulling them down with a delicate touch. His beautiful eyes met yours, a sincerity in his gaze that tugged at the edges of your guarded heart. “Can you please not get hurt anymore?”

The simple plea hung in the air, laced with a genuine concern that touched the depths of your soul. In that moment, the walls you had carefully constructed around your emotions quivered. His earnest request left you grappling with the realization that, perhaps, the line you had drawn between you and Seokjin wasn't as rigid as you had thought.

You wanted to cry, you thought. No one had ever cared if you got hurt. Not once. And here stood the perfect angel you perceived him to be, asking you to not be hurt anymore.

And so, for the first time, you lied to him.

You flashed him a faux smile, fronting your, nodding your head as you said, “I promise, Doctor. Wouldn’t want to disappoint the most handsome man in this hospital.”

His blush was definitely worth it, though.

---

“What are you even doing here?!” Kim Seokjin finally had it here and shouted as he heard Jungkook sighed so loudly again for the twelfth time and he could no longer focused on the research paper he was reading! He was even sure that his secretary outside could hear him behind the wall.

This was such a waste of time, he thought. Their golden maknae was wasting his time when he should have been done with this an hour ago.

“I’m just existing here, hyung. Go back to your work,” he mumbled from his position faced-down on the couch.

“You’re existing so loudly!”

Jungkook suddenly sat up, turning to face his hyung with an indignant expression, “Ah, so when you were the one pestering me in my office, it’s okay? But when it’s me, it’s not?!”

Seokjin responded with a smirk, a touch of mischief in his eyes. "Exactly!"

“How does that make sense! That is hypocritical and I’m going to sue you!”

“Dibs on Namjoon as my lawyer!”

“You can’t just call dibs!”

“I just did!”

“Well, Namjoon hyung likes me more!”

“Are you sure?! Or it’s you that like him more?!”

“You-“

Their banter was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door. Both heads turned towards the entrance, watching as the door slowly opened, revealing you. Your eyes shifted between the two handsome men, assessing the situation that seemed like a mid-battle exchange.

“Am I interrupting?”

Seokjin's demeanor shifted almost imperceptibly, a master at maintaining composure. He flashed you a reassuring smile, only to shoot Jungkook a discreet glare when your attention was diverted.

“No. Everything is good,” Seokjin affirmed, keeping his smile intact while subtly warning Jungkook with his eyes. The unspoken tension lingered in the air, leaving you to wonder if you had just stumbled into the aftermath of a friendly dispute or something more significant. “Do you need anything?”

You blinked before showing him the form you needed him to sign. He smiled as he gestured for you to come in. He was looking over the form as Jungkook observed you.

It was you, he noted. He was sure it was you that was making his hyung lose his mind little by little. His mischievous side won and he stood up, walking to you with his hand outstretched.

“Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jeon Jungkook, his little brother,” he introduced himself. You shook his hand once, smiling at the polite and charming man.

“I’m Doctor Y/N, nice to meet you.”

And then out of nowhere, Jungkook said the most absurd lie Seokjin ever heard him say. “It’s my birthday today. Eat dinner with us?”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

---

You and Seokjin walked behind Jungkook as he skipped merrily to one of his favorite restaurants, the streetside stall that he passionately swore served the best grilled pork. The randomness of the situation left you questioning how you ended up here, but it was undeniable that saying no to Jungkook and his enchanting doe eyes was practically impossible.

“You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to,” Seokjin mentioned casually beside you. His hands were in his slacks, his eyes trained ahead. He was matching your steps, your surmised.

“Do you not want me to be here?” you asked in that small moment of courage. You looked on the other side, your heart skipping a beat from the anticipation of his answer as you watched the flow of traffic. Silence reigned for so long that you were sure he wasn’t going to answer, or if he was, you were sure that he was going to gently turn you down once again.

You were waiting for the blunt from his kind rejection, yet this time, it didn’t come. The air remained pregnant with unspoken words, and for a moment, you were suspended in the quiet tension until he said something that made you fall for him just a little bit deeper.

“I want you here.”

The shocked from his words left you reeling that you stopped walking altogether just to stare at his broad back. He hadn’t noticed yet that you stopped walking until he was few steps ahead of you. He frowned before turning back to look at you.

And that moment, a genuine smile spread across your face as you noticed telltale hint of red on his ears. The man couldn’t even meet your eyes, instead, his simple admission reduced him to blushing man that shuffled from foot to foot.

Uh oh.

You were in big trouble.

You were surely and slowly falling for Kim Seokjin. And this time, it was beyond a harmless crush.

You were, as the folks said, fucked.

Part IV

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin x you #mafia bts #yandere kim seokjin #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #yandere kim seokjin x you

341 notes · View notes

fountainpenguin · 6 months

Text

Secret Life finale highlights for me:

- "My strategy: Kill Skizz and Tango. Will happen at some point... Or, just maim them and watch them die in a corner." - Scar

- Scott on Grian's loyalty: "I have never seen a man drop a pair of sunglasses faster in my life [than last season after Joel died]."

- I think I reblogged someone's speculation weeks ago that at the dawn of final session, everyone's task book would just say "Win Secret Life." Congrats to them for Apollo's gift of prophecy.

- Martyn's beat of pause before saying to Joel "Welcome to the Out of Context video."

- At the start of the season, Etho said Joel was the first one he wanted to kill because "He's cheeky." When Joel is asked who he wants to kill, he says "Etho." Glad you're enjoying your rivalry, boys, smh...

- Joel, once again giving into his Shrek origins, watching Bdubs' wool globe go up in flames and chirping "My world's on fire; how 'bout yours?"

- Tango does not break his "pathetic death" curse. Just blipped out of existence. Love that for him.

- Spitting, crying... BigB panics and flees into his creepy backrooms for safety. Immediately vanishes into the tunnel maze. Scar pursues and skids to a halt because he hasn't seen it yet and is thoroughly creeped out.

- Scar coming up to surface and trying to describe how BigB disappeared. Martyn looks down at where they're standing and is just like "Oh, that's the backrooms." Mental image of Scar as that meme that goes "The. what."

- Scar describing BigB as a sneaky squirrel. "Squirrel" was the name of BigB's horse in Double Life.

- Joel's anxiety about entering a Nether portal on the final episode, specifically because of how he and Etho perma-died in Double Life

- Whatever was going on with Martyn flinging ender pearls up the ladder seconds before he died

- Additionally, people in the background commenting that they think Martyn's teamed up with Cleo and the only reason he was near them was an attempt to bear down and kill them

- Scar to Bdubs, watching Cleo and Etho from a distance: "Look at this- Mom and Dad are bringing their new ugly stepson to meet us, Bdubs." /camera pans to the warden chasing them

- Bdubs tells Scar that Cleo said he was her favorite son and Scar IMMEDIATELY, without responding or even waiting for Bdubs to finish his sentence, jumps a wall and books it to Cleo to confirm... Mental image of him swinging dramatically over it with one hand, his shawl billowing behind him

- Scar chases Cleo while they're both being pursued by a warden, asking her if he's her favorite son. Doesn't let up until she assures him she "just said it to keep Bdubs happy." what is wrong with the Clocker family.

- Joel somehow pulled off a beautiful PVP kill on Skizz despite having only 2.5 hearts

- In earlier episodes, Joel had people say "The florist sends his regards" on his behalf before striking. Before killing Skizz, he says "Scar sends his regards" since Scar really wanted to kill Skizz but bequeathed the fight to Joel instead.

- Scar trotting up to Etho and Cleo, who are watching him from a cliff, and announcing "I am not up to anything nefarious!"

- Scar's weird spiky wall design is really pretty

- slkdjfskldjfsklj?!?!?!? I had a bullet point on this list that said "Honorable non-finale mention to Scar getting both the Green and Yellow kill on Etho this season" but now I see I need to correct that:

- Shout-out to Scar killing Etho - in Etho's front yard - THREE TIMES this season. Etho rushing back to his base, tripping over his feet and saying "I'm going home, everybody- I'm dying at my home-"

- Scott to Scar: "I went down to BigB - to get him - and I see what you mean; he does just talk his way out of things so you feel bad; you just leave him." / Scar: "That's why you don't let him speak. You just inner monologue. You start talking about Star Wars so you can't hear his charms."

- As Scar drives his sword into Cleo, he says "Good-bye, Mom- This is for you telling Bdubs [he's your] favorite." Geez, dude. Scar killed both his parents; this family is a mess. Bonus points for Joel fumbling in the background like "Oh my gosh- Scar, you savage-"

- I watched multiple POVs until I was caught up to the standoff between Gem & The Scotts vs. The Mounders... So picking up from there with Scar's POV b/c his is the one I randomly started with today: I love how Joel basically went "I am once again throwing caution to the wind and charging into battle with a murderous Red rage in my eyes and no one behind me" like he ALWAYS does.

- Bdubs and Scar decide to back him up... Amazing.

- Scar has gotten 4 kills (Tango, Etho, Cleo, Impulse) and he was super close to getting BigB as well before Scott sniped the kill. Geez... The man is vicious today. During Limited Life, Grian made a comment that went something like "Of course Scar is only destructive / successful when I'm not on his team" and honestly? Yeah...

- Pearl begging Scar to kill her- Pearl warning Scar that if she perma-kills Gem, she'll go up 10 hearts- Scar refusing, insisting that he doesn't want to turn on her because it feels lame...

- Scar got Gem, he got Gem... GeminiSlay is DOWN!

- SCAR SWEEP WITH THE BOW!!

Oh my goodness, I saw his episode title ("Can Villain Scar Win?") and the words that went through my head were "Welp, that's a spoiler that he's dead." I see I was wrong.

GG, SCAR WIN!!! Man who wanted so desperately to have friends, only to trip and fail time and time again... GoodTimesWithVictor!!

My heart, Scar letting that zombie knock him down to half a heart... playing up like he didn't just watch the lightning bolt mark Pearl's demise. He wanders, calling out to Pearl, asking where she went... quietly giggling and muttering to himself as that zombie pushes at him... GG, Scar. GG.

My goodness, is this the only time we haven't seen the winner die in their perspective? Scar slams that success button for winning the game, gets 5 hearts, turns back, and that's it... That's the game. End scene.

What a LAD!!

307 notes · View notes

ramblers-lets-get-ramblin · 6 months

Text

When My Time Comes Around- Part Three

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Part One | Part Two

Summary: You and Joel heal from the trauma of the last twenty years. We find out what the next twenty have in store for you.

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+

Warnings: SMUT! unprotected PIV, oral sex m!receiving, pregnancy and childbirth but not super detailed, major character death, grief, child loss

Immersability: Reader can get pregnant/ give birth

Author’s Notes: A HUGE THANK YOU to @wannab-urs. if it wasn't for you this fic wouldn't exist. Thank you for letting me yell about this to you and I'm (kinda) sorry it made you cry so much.

Thank you to everyone who read, commented or reblogged this story. It is so special to me and your support and love for it means the world to me. I know it isn't the easiest read so it really means a lot that you all stuck around. To reward you: Have a disgustingly sweet and fluffy happy ever after! I love you all!

Having Joel around the farm, fully healed, makes you realize that you weren’t handling things as well by yourself as you had previously thought. The first item on his to do list, the one he made for himself, was to repair the roof. “How are you so good at this?” You ask him. You are standing on the roof, handing him nails from a box. You suspect the tool bags hanging from his waist would have held the nails at least as well as you, but this way he gets to spend time with you. It was quite a shock to your system, having him around. You spent sixteen years in near complete solitude, and the five years before that were spent with people you had known your entire life. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night with Joel’s arms wrapped around you and your first instinct is fear. Who is this? How did they get here? When that happens, Joel just squeezes you tighter and whispers in your ear.

“It’s okay, baby.” He says. “It’s just me. I won’t let anything hurt you.” He promises. And you believe him. You let his words and his arms lull you back to sleep.

It’s been six months since you found Joel dying in the snow. Six months since you told him about the deaths of your family. He tried to leave you that night and you somehow ended up in bed together, the same way you have every night since. Joel still hasn’t opened up anymore about his daughter, Ellie. “She died.” Is all the explanation you got. You didn’t press, the same way he never pushed you. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. He doesn’t seem that interested in talking much about his past. Every question you ask is met with a grunt or another question.

Joel looks at you sometimes like he’s trying to figure out if you’re real. He holds onto you so tightly, as if you might float away without him anchoring you to the ground. Whatever has happened to him has traumatized him so badly that he can barely stand to let you out of his sight. You tried to tell him that the daily chores would go by faster if the two of you split up but he wouldn’t hear any of that. “I like doin’ ‘em with you.” He’d said. Then he busied himself removing your clothes. He was good at that. Distracting you with his hands, his fingers, his mouth. And who were you to argue? You hadn’t expected to ever have anything like this again, much less something this good. Not that you had a lot to compare him to. You’d only ever been with Danny. But Joel was a master at taking you apart, piece by piece, and putting you back together. You don’t think there’s a room in this house that he hasn’t fucked you in. But his favorite place, and yours, is on the rug in front of the fireplace. The only sounds to be heard are the crackling of the roaring fire and the wet slap of skin on skin.

It takes Joel another six months before he finally tells you about his past. How Ellie died, about his first daughter, Sarah, and her death. It takes him a little longer to open up about the rest of it. Tommy, Marlene, Tess. He doesn’t dump it all on you at once, just drops little snippets here and there. He’s chopping wood for winter when he tells you about the circumstances that led to you finding him bleeding out into a ditch. You could feel his hesitancy to show you the darker parts of his soul. The part of his heart that turned him into the man who slaughtered an entire building full of Fireflies. How the loss of his daughters turned him into a mean drunk who blamed the only family he had left and pushed him out of his life, probably forever. He swung his ax as he told you, the pile of firewood growing larger every moment. You think he must have needed to be busy while he did, so that he wouldn’t flee like he probably wanted to. It takes him longer than it ever has for him to meet your eyes again. When he does, he looks like he’s about to vomit. You stand from the stump you are sitting on and walk over to him. When you reach out to comfort him, he flinches away from your touch. “Joel?” You ask, tentatively reaching for him again. He allows you to wrap your hand around his bicep, but his gaze has returned to the ground. “What’s wrong?”

He takes in a shaky breath, his chest heaves and he finally meets your eyes. “I just- i don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve this life.” He gestures around with his arm. “All the bad shit I’ve done. Someone like me doesn’t deserve to be this happy.” He says.

“Joel, you know I don’t care about any of that. Anything you did before you came here doesn’t matter to me. The Joel who did that stuff isn’t the same Joel who I’ve spent the last year with.” You try to assure him.

“That’s the thing, darlin’. I’m still that man.” He jabs a finger into his chest. “That man is still in here. And if anyone or anything ever tried to hurt you, he’d bust out of the cage he’s in. In a heartbeat.” You shake your head and look up at him.

“I don’t care, Joel. I love you anyway.” Joel’s voice gets caught in his throat when he speaks next. His eyes shine with tears that threaten to spill over.

“You- you love me?” He asks. You grab his hand and tug him into the house.

Once you are inside you walk over to the fireplace and get a fire going. Joel still has the ax in his hand. He just stands there, watching you numbly. When your hands move to the buttons of your flannel, Joel’s flannel, and begin unbuttoning, a fire lights in his eyes. He tosses the ax to the ground and crosses the room in three steps. His own flannel is already unbuttoned and his salt and pepper chest hair peeks out over the top of his sweat damp muscle shirt. You pull it down over his arms, taking your time to feel the taut muscles of his biceps. You drop the flannel to the floor, and Joel repeats the motion with yours. You reach behind you and unclasp your bra, while he pulls the muscle shirt over his head. You both toe off your boots and you shuck your jeans off as quickly as you can. Wearing just your underwear, you stand in front of Joel and drop to your knees. You unbuckle his belt and then unbutton his jeans. He helps you pull them down and he steps out of them. He doesn’t wear underwear and his cock bobs under the weight of itself. The corners of your mouth sting as you open wide enough to accommodate him. “Oh, fuck, baby.” Joel says quietly when he hits the back of your mouth. You hollow your cheeks and run your tongue on the underside of him. He hisses and his hips twitch towards you, going even further down your throat. “You’re too good to me, baby. I don’t deserve you.” He almost whispers. His praise jolts through your body. You can feel the fabric of your panties growing damp. You pull him out of your mouth with a pop. Joel grabs your hands and helps you to your feet.

Joel sucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. He growls at the taste of himself on your mouth. You can feel his cock twitch where it is sandwiched between your bodies. You moan into his mouth and squeeze your thighs together. “I need you, Joel.” You tell him. You lie down on the rug in front of the fireplace and Joel drops to his knees in between yours. He removes your panties and tosses them to the side. He places his hands on the floor beside your ribs and leans down. He captures your lips in another kiss. You can feel everything Joel feels for you in that kiss. Gratitude, admiration, love. His hand moves between your thighs, circling your clit with his thumb, not breaking the kiss. You arch your back into his touch and your nipples graze his bare chest. The sensation sends a chill through your entire body. You buck your hips into Joel’s hand and he rewards you with two thick fingers. You’re so wet already that they slide right in. You’re already so close. You don’t need to say anything, Joel can tell. He can always tell. The whimpers that fall from your mouth are like music to Joel’s ears. Once your pussy has stopped fluttering around his fingers he gently removes them. He uses the slick that is coating his hand to stroke his cock a few times. He lines himself up at your entrance and gives you a moment to catch your breath. When he plunges inside you, he doesn’t hesitate, he goes to the hilt. The feeling of your walls molding around him, rearranging to fit him, nearly sends him over the edge already. Joel makes love to you, soft and sweet. He takes his time, pulling your orgasm from you slowly. When you clench around him you tug on his curls that are threaded between your fingers. “I love you, Joel.” You whisper into his ear. Your confession draws his own orgasm out. You feel him pulse inside you and a warmth floods your body and his spend coats your walls.

“I love you, too, baby.” He takes you three more times that night. Another time in front of the fireplace, once while you are bent over the back of the couch, and again in the shower. When the two of you finally collapse into bed that night, your legs and knees hurt. Your pussy is sore and puffy and dripping Joel. For the first time in almost a year, Joel doesn't call out for his lost daughters in his sleep.

Looking back, you’re pretty sure that was the night that you got pregnant. It took several months before either of you figured out what was happening. Though you suppose that you were both probably more in denial than oblivious. You were terrified at the thought of bringing yet another child into this fucked up world. Terrified that something might happen to it. You and Joel hadn’t had much luck in the kid department. You felt fucking awful thinking it, but how were the two of you supposed to keep a baby safe. You thought you were isolated enough from the infection, from other people the first time. But it fucking found you. It found you and took everything from you. You haven’t had anyone to love in sixteen years. There was nobody to look out for anymore, besides yourself. Now you have someone, two someones soon, and all you can think about is the terrible ways that you can lose them both. Then you remember that you have to tell him. This isn’t something that is going to go away on its own. You won’t even be able to hide it much longer. You're almost sure that if anything can send him sprinting as far away from here as he can get, it would be this. You find him in the barn, tending to the goats. He’s holding one of the babies that was born recently, and you don’t think that you’ve ever found him more attractive.

“Joel?” He stops making kissy faces at the goat and looks up at you.

“Yeah, baby?” He asks. You don’t step any closer, standing just inside the open barn doors.

“I need to tell you something.” He kisses the top of the goats head and plops him back down onto the hay. The goat runs to his mother and Joel stands from the squatting position he was in. He wipes his hands on his jeans and walks over to you. His palm cups your jaw and his fingers wrap around the back of your neck. He tilts your head back and kisses you on the forehead.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” The concern in his eyes causes your heart to clench. You can’t bear to disappoint him. You can’t be the cause of more heartache in his life, more despair. You inhale a ragged breath, trying to work up the nerve to let the confession spill forth.

“I think- I think I’m pregnant, Joel.” You don’t know why you added the “think” part. You are pregnant, have been for months. Tears gush from your eyes, soaking your cheeks. You bury your face in Joel’s chest and he squeezes you tightly. You are babbling about how sorry you are, how you never meant for this to happen. Joel shushes you, he softly strokes your hair.

“Hey. It’s okay. I know.” He says. You don’t hear him because you’re still sobbing. “Hey!” He says, firmer this time, louder. The commanding tone of his voice grabs your attention. You sniff the snot back into your nose and wipe your face with the back of your hand. Your brain finally catches up to your ears.

“What did you just say?” Joel chuckles quietly and gives your lips a soft, chaste kiss.

“Come with me.” He leads you by the hand out of the barn. He walks you down the hill, to the workshop. Your father used to spend hours in here, woodworking and tinkering. He and Danny built the crib that sits in the room Joel occupied when he first arrived. One of the tables is strewn with bits of metal and tools.

“What is all this, Joel?” You ask.

“I’ve been workin’ on getting the radio goin’.” He tells you.

“Why?” Is he planning to leave? Would he actually abandon you? Leave you all alone with a baby?

“Well, I figured I’d try and get a hold of Tommy. Thought we might be able to go visit over there. Or maybe him and Maria could come here, ya know. When the baby comes.” Your heart swells at the thought. You know how much Joel regrets the things he said to his brother when they last spoke. How much he wishes he could take it all back.

“I would like that.” You tell him and his eyes light up. “It might be better if they are willing to come here, though. I don’t think we can leave the animals all alone that long.”

Joel thinks for a moment and nods. “Yeah, I think you’re right about that, darlin’.”

By the time Tommy and Maria finally make it, you’re about ready to pop. They show up with their own son in tow, now a full blown toddler. Maria gets out of the truck and sets him down on the grass. Tommy walks around the front of the truck and kneels down. He whispers something into his son’s ear while pointing at Joel. The boy’s face lights up and he runs towards where you and Joel stand. “Uncle Joel!” He shouts. Joel bends down and catches him in his arms when he leaps. Joel speaks quietly to him, presses kisses into his temple. They look so much alike, Joel and his brother and nephew. You wonder if your own baby will have the same curls, the same brown eyes. Joel’s misty eyes mirror your own. He places the boy into his mother’s arms and gives her a kiss on the cheek.

“You look good, Joel.” She says with a smile.

“All thanks to her.” He replies, nodding his head in your direction. Maria walks over to you and introduces herself.

“We brought some supplies. Joel said y’all had plenty of medical stuff so we brought some other stuff I thought y’all might need.” She says. “I’ll have the boys lug it all when once they’re finished.” You both turn to look at them. They’re standing at the tailgate of the truck, not speaking. They don’t look at each other either. Joel looks at his boots, towing the grass. Tommy seems fascinated by the cowboy hat turning in his hands. Maria clears her throat loudly and they both look up at her. She taps her wrist, where a watch would sit and both men sigh. The sight of the two men, who look so much alike, mirroring each other’s actions, makes you giggle. Then they both begin speaking at once, causing you all to laugh.

“You go first.” Tommy offers.

You decide to give them some privacy, you motion for Maria to follow you inside the house. “Wow!” She exclaims. “This place is really something.” You lead her down the hall to your old room, the one with the crib, where they will be staying. Her eyes meet yours and the shared look of pain that passes between the two of you doesn’t need any elaboration. The look of a mother who has had to bury their child. Maria places a hand softly on your shoulder in understanding. You lean into her touch. Though you are no longer the touch-starved, near-feral woman you were almost two years ago, this is something altogether different. The feminine touch of someone who is the closest thing you’ll ever have to a sister again is irresistible. She wraps her arm, the one not holding her baby, around your shoulder and draws you in close. Your bump is safely nestled between your bodies and she comforts you as you cry into her shoulder. She rubs her hand up and down your back, soothing you. Just as you lift your head from her now tear soaked shoulder, you hear the front door. The men are laughing, a sound you haven't heard much from Joel, and your heart soars. You wipe your tears from your eyes and begin to apologize to Maria.

“I’m so sorry.” You chuckle. “These damn hormones.” You explain.

“Don’t worry about it.” She assures you with a warm smile.

That night, when Joel joins you in bed, you can feel how much lighter he seems. He drapes his arm over you, cupping a protective hand around your belly. The baby starts kicking like crazy, just like he always does when his dad is nearby. You aren’t sure how, but you just know that it’s going to be a boy. After dinner, Maria took you to the living room to sort through the boxes of supplies they had brought. One of the boxes was full to the brim with baby clothes. The various sizes were enough to keep the baby clothed for probably the first year of his life. Joel's heart swells at the sight of you folding the tiny clothes and putting them into the dresser you had emptied out and he had moved to the master bedroom, your bedroom now. The two of you needed more space, now that you were about to become the three of you.

Three days after Tommy and Maria arrive, your son, Samuel Elliot Miller makes his entrance into the world. Labor was much more difficult than you remembered it being, but perhaps that's because you weren't nineteen anymore. Maria performed the delivery. Something she had done many times in Jackson. Joel held your hand the entire time. His presence grounded you. His soothing words of praise calmed you. “You're doing so good, baby. I know it hurts, but all the pain is gonna be worth it when you see our baby.” He'd said. And it was. It was worth every searing second. Now, holding your son, you can hardly even recall the pain. He has big brown eyes and the tiniest little nose. His full head of dark brown hair, almost black, is so soft you wanna nuzzle your nose in it forever. You want to hold him in your arms and never let him go. But after an hour, exhaustion overcomes you. You hand Samuel to his father and welcome the nothingness of sleep.

Joel would never admit it, but he was hoping for a boy. When you asked he just said he didn't care, “As long as it's healthy I'll be happy.” He sits in the rocking chair he'd started building for you months ago, before you even told him you were pregnant, and rocks his son gently. He gazes down at his sleeping face, looking for which features he got from each of you. There are tears in his eyes as he whispers softly to him. “I'll never let anything happen to you. I promise I'm gonna take care of you and your mama for the rest of my life. I love you both so much” He doesn’t notice that you’ve woken, nor that you heard every word of his promises, until he hears you sniffle. He stands carefully, and walks over to you. You slide over and he climbs in, carefully cradling your son’s head. His free arm circles your shoulders and draws you in tight. You rest your head on his shoulder and the two of you stare at your sleeping baby.

“Look what we did.” You whisper to Joel and gently stroke the slope of Samuel’s nose. Joel kisses the crown of your head.

“You did all the hard work, baby.” He says. When you chuckle, he continues. “I mean it, darlin’. You saved my life. In more ways than one.”

Tommy and Maria stay for a few more days, but eventually they have to get back to Jackson. They promise to be back soon to visit, and to keep in communication via radio. You and Maria hug, more words of understanding go unspoken between you. The guilt of having a child after having lost one. The weight of the responsibility that carries sits heavy on both of your shoulders. But having someone with whom to help carry the burden, eases the pain a little. Tommy and Joel stand side by side next to Tommy’s truck. Both looking down at Samuel, eyes full of hope and love and their own shared grief. Finally, Maria breaks the moment, reminding her husband of the long and precarious drive ahead. Goodbyes are said all around, and you and Joel retreat to the comfort of your home. Joel can hardly sleep a wink those first few days. He just flits back and forth between the bed and the crib, keeping a steady watch over the loves of his life.

Maria and Tommy make good on their promise to visit. They come to spend two weeks with you and Joel, twice a year. Eventually, they convince you to return the favor and come visit them in Jackson. Joel and Tommy are closer than they have ever been. Watching their sons play side by side feels like more than either man thinks they deserve. Three years after Sam was born, you give birth to another son, Thomas Daniel. Sam is thrilled to be an older brother. You never would have guessed that you would be a mother again at forty, but wouldn’t change it for anything. Tommy keeps trying to convince you and Joel to move to Jackson permanently. “The kids can grow up together. It’s safer in a community than it is out here alone.” He says. Joel remains unconvinced.

“This is where we want to raise our kids.” He tells him every time. “Y’all are more than welcome to move over here.” He offers. The four of you are always at an impasse when it comes to this topic.

You and Joel live a quiet, fulfilling life with your sons. You work the land, and care for the animals. Joel teaches them to build and repair pretty much everything under the sun. You teach them how to cook, and sew. Joel teaches them how to shoot, how to hunt. You get to do something neither of you had ever imagined you’d get to do again. Live . You no longer merely survive, just hoping to get the next day. You have a life. A family. Somehow, after all of these years, that thread that drew you and Joel together has never frayed. If anything it’s strengthened. Each year, a new thread weaves itself with the others. A thick, braided cord ties your heart to his now. Two people who thought themselves damaged, broken. Each letting the other heal you, break down the walls you had both built around your hearts.

By the time the boys are teenagers, they are itching to have more in their lives. They’ve grown used to spending time in Jackson with their aunt and uncle, with their cousins, with more people to talk to than just their parents. You and Joel have begun letting them stay for a few months at a time. Sam drives them on his own now. At eighteen he’s plenty responsible to manage a few hours' drive. Neither you nor Joel can settle until they call on the radio, letting you know that they’ve made it. They are readying their things for their trip, packing clothes and checking on the animals. You and Joel hover, making sure they have everything they need. They won’t leave for a few days yet, but like their parents, they like to be prepared. After dinner, the boys offer to clean the kitchen. You and Joel retire to the front porch. Joel has trouble getting around these days. Considering he’s in his seventies, and the hell his body has been through over the last forty years, it’s a wonder he can walk at all. Sam made him a cane in the workshop a few years back, but he refuses to use it. “I can get around just fine on my own, goddamnit.” He says when you or the boys offer him assistance.

You lean against the porch railing and Joel stands next to you. You gaze across your land, bathed in the golden light of the sunset. Your gaze pulls towards your husband, and you find him staring at you. His brown curls have gone fully gray, there’s no longer any pepper in the salt of his still patchy beard. “What?” You ask, smiling.

His eyes crinkle in the corners when he returns your smile. “Nothin’.” He says. “Just doin’ the same as you. Appreciatin’ the view.” He sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around your middle. You place your hands over his and he rests his head on your shoulder. You sink back into the softness of his belly. His arms and chest are just as firm as they’ve always been. Even now, twenty years on, he still rises with the sun and does the daily farm chores. The boys do most of the wood chopping these days, but Joel still prefers to oversee the care of the animals himself. He presses a kiss into your neck and sighs.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. He squeezes you a bit tighter.

“Nothin’s wrong at all, baby. Just wonderin’ how I got so lucky, is all. This life that we built here, its more than I ever thought I would have again after losing my girls. Hell, it’s more than I deserve.” Joel spins you around and backs you up against the porch railing. “I love you so goddamn much, darlin’.” And he kisses you with the same fervor and hunger as he always has. You fall asleep wrapped in his arms, the same way you have for the last twenty years. The warmth of his body and the soft sound of his breath lull you to sleep.

You always knew that Joel would be gone before you. With almost twenty years’ age difference, and given the world you lived in, it was inevitable. Most people don’t get the luxury of living to a ripe, old age anymore. Much less the dignity of dying peacefully in their sleep. Of course you are sad, but this isn’t the devastation that prior losses have brought. You and Joel had worked out the logistics of the others’ wishes a long time ago. Unsurprisingly, Joel didn’t want to hear yours. “I think we both know I’m goin’ long before you do, sweetheart. In fact, I insist on it.” He’d said as you laid on that rug in front of the fire. You sat between his legs, leaned back against his chest, his hands stroking your ever growing bump. While you laughed, his face remained stony and unchanged. “I mean it, I forbid you to die before me.” You just rolled your eyes and reached up to kiss him.

“Okay, Joel. I promise to let you die first.” You assured him.

You held up your end of the deal, you suppose. The boys wrap him up in the blanket from your bed and carry him to the living room. They lay him on the rug in front of the fireplace, his favorite place in the whole house. They slip out of the house quietly to begin the tasks that need handling. Sam goes into the workshop to call Tommy, and Thomas goes to the barn and pulls out the shovels. You and Joel had already chosen your spots in the wildflower field long ago, and showed the boys for when the time came. You expected that thread, the one that’s kept you tethered to him for the last twenty years, to be gone. Snipped in half when the love of your life closed his eyes for the last time. But you still feel it, pulling you towards where he lies cold on the floor. You lay down next to your husband and you rest your head on his chest and drape your arm across his chest. Your tears soak through the thick fabric of the quilt. He still smells like himself, you think. It almost feels like he’s still there, just sleeping, but not quite. It takes you a moment to figure out what’s missing. The steady thumping of his heart that you’d grown used to hearing when you laid your head in this spot. You remain there, soaking up as much of him as you can, until Samuel lifts you from the floor and carries you to your bed.

You lay joel to rest in the field behind the barn. In the field where the rest of your family lies, and someday you will too. The only six people in the world that Joel cared about are in attendance. When the last bit of displaced dirt is settled over him, you all take turns placing flowers from the field on top. Everyone has a moment to say their private goodbyes. You kneel down in the dirt and place your hand on top, hoping to feel him again, if just for a moment. When nothing comes, you let the flowers fall from your hand. “Goodbye, my love.” You softly whisper into the wind, urging it to carry your words to where he can hear them.

When my time comes around,

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down.

I’ll crawl home to her

-Hozier, ‘Work Song’

taglist: @planet-marz1 @rhoorl @nerdieforpedro @hyzer34 @littlegrungegirlaf @pamasaur @joeldjarin @harriedandharassed @casa-boiardi @disassociation-daydreams @inept-the-magnificent@elegantduckturtle @magpiepills @cherubispunk@milly-louise @party-hearses @megamindsecretlair

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

280 notes · View notes

diaryujin · 1 month

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

summary: Sunghoon has never felt any spark in his heart, none of that silly love he’s read about in novels in his free time. No one interested him, and it wasn’t like his father, the king, would let him have friends, male or female, for fear of being betrayed or developing feelings for them. He lived a life of isolation, excited for nothing – neither the idea of being married to a pretty princess nor becoming the next ruler of the Park kingdom. He most certainly did not expect you, his new guard, to change all that. He did not expect you to brighten his days and light up his heart.

includes: death, murder, war/battle, attempted murder (kinda), breaking in, royal au, romanticized medieval setting of sorts, forced marriage/proposal, a lot of time skips so it moves somewhat quickly, brief mention of a toxic ex, death by illness, joking mention of jumping off a balcony, blood, wounds, denial of death kinda, graves, lmk if i missed anything!

genre: angst

pairing: prince! sunghoon x guard! fem! reader

word count: 8.1k (woah)

taglist: @kflixnet @kpopslays @jvjsssnaa a/n: it’s finally here! i sacrificed sleep for this and i do not regret it at all. this fic has two milestones for me - being my longest fic + a fic i’m kinda proud of. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it <3

PLEASE REBLOG/COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS FIC 🫶

Sunghoon was reading over some papers pertaining to the kingdom’s matters when he heard a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

One of the guards came in, before bowing upon seeing him.

“Sire, his Majesty wishes to see you.”

He nodded and set the papers in a neat stack. He then put them in a drawer and locked it for security. He then stood up and followed the guard, maintaining a neutral expression.

His mind was working much faster than normal though.

His father was very strict, and the slightest mistake meant an extremely harsh lecture. He flicked through his memories, trying to remember what he could have done wrong, and what he should say as his apology.

He pursed his lips as a thought crossed his mind - was his recent trip to the colder regions made known to his father? He had gone for administrative work, but he couldn’t resist spending some time there ice skating, which the king always considered useless since it benefited only the person skating, not the country. He had done his best to keep it under wraps, but maybe one of the guards reported this to the king. Damn it.

He mentally slapped himself for using such crude language. Those were the words of peasants and did not suit a prince like him. Holy moly…buckling barnacles, great heavens…such lengthy words to express frustration, he thought. ‘Damn it’ was only two syllables.

As he snapped out of his reverie, he entered the Throne Room. His father was seated on the grand throne at the end of the airy space. The seats where the ministers sat were empty. Court was always in the morning, and it was probably lunchtime by now - the prince wasn’t sure.

He stood a few feet away from his father. The guard bowed and left, and Sunghoon made eye contact with the old man in front of him. He didn’t seem angry, so the younger relaxed a bit, letting out a sigh.

“Why have you called me here, father?”

“I’ve received some proposals from other kings. They’ve sent me paintings of their daughters. A lovely selection of princesses, I must say.”

Sunghoon had to physically hold himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Father, I’ve already told you this. I am not ready for marriage and I am not interested in this topic.”

“Yes, but it’s good to start early. Maybe you’ll change your mind after-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Father, but why have you actually summoned me?”

The king narrowed his eyes at his son but didn’t say anything more about the topic.

“Well, I’ve decided to get you a personal guard. There have been many threats of attacks on the palace, so it’s better to take this precaution.”

“Interesting. Will he be with me all the time or-”

“She.”

“What?”

“Your guard is a female.”

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. His father? Hiring a woman? As his bodyguard? What if he-

“Are you serious?” “Yes. She is very capable and I’m sure she will protect and serve you well. I trust you to keep your relationship with her strictly professional.”

It wasn’t like he knew how to have a non-professional relationship with anyone outside of his family anyway.

“Yes, Father. Will she be with me at all times?”

“Indeed she will, except for when you are sleeping. At that time, she will stand outside your door and guard you.” “What about her food and sleep?”

“That is not your concern.”

“But-”

“Silence!”

He immediately bowed his head slightly as a sign of remorse for stepping out of line. This was going to be interesting, he thought. He had little to no interaction with women outside of his mother and sister, and the small talk he made with princesses and duchesses of other kingdoms was always awkward. Now he was having someone of the opposite gender, a woman, watching over him nearly 24/7.

He slowed down his train of thought. Why was he thinking like a teenage boy ogling over a girl? He was the crown prince, he was better than that. It was going to be a new experience, that was all.

“May I meet her now?”

“Of course. She’s arriving as we speak.”

Just then, the door opened, and you entered, a male soldier on either side. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, but nothing came out of it.

He was having a cultural shock of sorts. All the women he had met were all dainty, graceful and poised - the epitome of perfection. You, on the other hand, had an air of authority about you — rough and firm. A few scars were on your face, probably from battle. You bowed the full 90 degrees, and he could only respond with a small nod.

Oh fuck, you were gorgeous.

And he used foul language again. Stupid Sunghoon, he reprimanded himself.

He didn’t take back what he said, however. Your beauty wasn’t the type written in books or sung in ballads, but it had to be known to the world, somehow. He was almost tempted to write one himself.

Hold on, why was he thinking all this? His father had just told him to not think anything about you that crossed the lines of professional, and thinking about how pretty you were was not within those lines.

“This is your new personal guard, Y/N.”

You came over to him and bowed again, although at a smaller angle than before.

“N…Nice to meet you, Y-Y/N.”

Did he just stutter?!

“It is an honor, my prince. I swear to serve you to the best of my abilities.”

“I’m sure you will.”

He managed a small, formal smile, looking completely pleasant and unfazed.

Which he very much was not. He wanted to jump off the nearest balcony when you said ‘my prince’. He didn’t know why - you weren’t the only one who addressed him in that manner. You might’ve even learned it from someone in the palace, so why was he so hot and bothered with the way you said it?

“Your duties start today, guard.”

“Yes, your Majesty. I will not let you down.”

He was going crazy. You were just his new guard. Nothing less, nothing more. He would just have to rein in his thoughts and get it all together. Not a difficult task at all.

As you stood behind him as he walked through the kingdom’s streets a week later, he seemed to keep a little distance from you, which was unsafe. Anything could happen within a few meters.

“My prince, you must slow your pace.”

He turned his face to look at you as he stopped walking.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“There’s a gap between us, and anyone could attack you with that.”

“Ah. I see. In that case…you can walk next to me. Or something.”

You stood next to him now. He quickly looked at the fruits a vendor was selling, trying his best to avert his gaze so that you wouldn’t see his reddening cheeks. It was unknown to him as to why he was so flustered. You were only doing your job, and that was it.

“Our kingdom seems to produce good crops.”

“Indeed they do, my prince. The farmer and the cultivators work very hard. It always seems to go unnoticed for some damn reason, though.”

He heard the angry tone in your voice and the curse word you said. This seemed to be a sore topic for you. He was curious, so he decided to ask more.

“What do you suggest, then?”

“We export more crops so that they get more revenue and in turn, they get paid as well. Increase the demand.”

You shrugged before turning your attention to a little kid who was clinging to your leg. You leaned down and patted his head, smiling a bit. The kid laughed and ran away. Sunghoon watched this interaction with interest and it dawned upon him that you cared about the people and their welfare, like a good ruler.

Wait, why was he thinking about you being a ruler? You were only a soldier, and with the hierarchy now, there wasn’t much chance you could become more.

It did make him wonder, however, what you would do if the people rebelled. He shook his head, not wanting to think so dark. Your suggestion was smart, though. It made more sense the more he pondered over it. He’d mention this to the old man and see what he’d say.

“Shall we move on, guard?”

You stood up properly before nodding.

“Yes, my prince. Apologies for slowing you down.”

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing of the sort. Come, let’s go.”

You both continued your stroll and for some reason, his heart was beating very unnaturally. He only had this issue when he was agitated, but there was no reason for him to be scared now, so why was this happening?

It had only been two months since you became his personal guard, yet you were his closest and most trusted friend. He took all your ideas seriously and told them to the king who somehow accepted them, and called him ‘ingenious’ for supposedly coming up with them. He hated taking false credit, but he knew that he couldn’t tell his father that you were the mastermind of them all — he would then question Sunghoon as to why he was talking to them in the first place, which would lead to you being removed from your post and replaced with a boring male soldier.

He didn’t want to lose you, not when he finally found a change in his monotonous life, someone to brighten his dull days, someone to call a friend, even though it was only known to the both of you and no one else. He couldn’t bear to have you gone.

He was sitting underneath a tree, looking up at the sky in the comfort of the gardens reserved for his family and visitors alone. His father never came here out of his own accord - he always considered it a waste of time. His mother was in her room, and her sister was in another kingdom discussing alliances. This was a moment very rare, just you and him, with no one to interrupt or catch you two slacking.

You were sitting next to him, only a few inches away. The wind was blowing gently on his face. He closed his eyes and smiled, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Your presence next to him was oddly comforting. He opened his eyes again, turned his head, and looked at you, wanting to ask you something.

“Guard, you know how I always give your suggestions to the king and how he always says ‘I’ did a good job thinking about them?”

Your face tightened the same way it did every time he took credit for your ideas in front of his father. He sighed.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I wanted to apologize for that.”

You tilted your head at him, clearly not understanding two things - why he was suddenly saying sorry, and how you doing that simple thing made him go insane. You took over him, body and soul. All he could think of when he tried to sleep was you. It was just two months. Two months, and he was already attached to you. He was convinced, however, that it wasn’t love or anything stupid like that. No, it was simply him forming a close connection to the first person who cared about him. Not everything was romantic affection. He had never tasted this emotion, obviously, but he’d say that he knew enough about it to confirm this wasn’t it.

“Why now, my prince? I’m sorry- I just didn’t expect you to, y’know…actually apologize. Never met a royal who’s done so. They’re all usually stuck-up snobs who think their shit is worth the entire kingdom.”

He snorted at that. It wasn’t like you were wrong, most of the royals he met were indeed very arrogant. He didn’t dare anything about it though, simply doing his best to not behave like them.

“It’s not right of me to take credit for something I don’t even have the brain for. I don’t mention your name for your security. If my father knew I was talking to you about matters like these, then…”

He made a motion of him cutting his own throat, complete with the sound effect. You grinned a bit, which was enough for him to be over the moon, but then you laughed. Not just a ‘teehee’ or a ‘haha’ - an actual, proper laugh. His heart swelled, maybe his jokes didn’t suck that much. Your laugh was indescribable. It was a delightful sound to listen to. It was short, but he wanted to hear it every day at least once for the rest of his life instead of those ballads that were sung in the court all the time.

The way your eyes formed crescents, the way your face was half in the light and half in the shadow, the way the wind put an orange leaf in your hair like it was an accessory - it was making him sick in a good way. He rarely saw you smile, let alone laugh like this. He knew that you had to keep your expression serious all the time - all the soldiers had that training - and this was a proud moment for him to see you loosen up. He couldn’t help the small smile on his own face.

“My prince, is he really that harsh? I’m aware that he is super damn strict to us soldiers, but that’s expected since we have to be toughened up to protect the land.”

His smile faded before he shook his head in agreement.

“I’d say so. It’s for my good- I am the next in line, after all.”

“I don’t think forcing your child to have no friends is how you raise him to be king. He won��t know how to have proper social interactions.”

There you were again, hitting the mark accurately with your observation. He sucked at interacting with other people. Slowly, he was starting to dislike his father more. The faults he never saw in him earlier were becoming visible, the saint-like image he had of the king since childhood fading away. Was this meant to happen? He wasn’t sure.

“Right. I’m living proof.”

You shook your head in alarm.

“Oh shit- please don’t be offended by my idiotic statement, my prince…I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, really-”

He chuckled at how you were panicking and made a motion with his hand for you to calm down.

“It’s okay. I didn’t take it that way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He saw your body relax as he rested his head against the bark of the tree again. He gazed at the sky, eyes fixated on the clouds and the way they moved in the direction of the breeze. Two questions lingered in his mind, and his mouth suddenly blurted one out.

“Do you ever sleep?”

It was random, sure, but he had to know. He was concerned for you. He never saw you leave his side, except for when he was asleep, and he already knew what you did then. You were still staring at him, but he didn’t notice.

“I do. I’m a normal person, my prince, I can’t function without food and rest. That’s impossible.”

“When?”

You let out a slight laugh at his curiosity, and his heart started pounding faster again.

“You don’t notice, do you? That means I’m performing the stealth part of my job well. When you’re in the dining room or a meeting surrounded by the best soldiers. That’s when. I also don’t stand watch for you every night. I alternate with another guard.”

His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in understanding. He didn’t notice it at all, which meant that either you were a master of stealth, as you said, or he was just blind. It was most likely the former since he had no doubt in your abilities.

“I see. I was very worried for you, honestly.”

“I’m honored that I was an object of your concern, my prince.”

He scoffed at your slightly surprised expression.

“Of course, I would. You’re my personal guard, what reason is there for me to treat you inhumanly?”

That stupid fucking slip of his tongue.

Shit, he just cursed.

Damn it, again.

His tutor and family would go crazy if they could read his thoughts.

Of course he had to refer to you as his, like you were property. Of course he had to emphasize on that word as well. You were making him loosen up too much. It shouldn’t have happened, not at all. He couldn’t continue like this, what if he accidentally cursed in front of people? He would never be heard of again.

“I’d say I had expected that, but you’re different from other royals, so not really.”

“I understand. Also, you don’t have to call me ‘my prince’ when we’re alone. Just Sunghoon is enough.”

Your eyes widened in astonishment.

“My prince, I wouldn’t dare to-”

“Really guard. It’s fine.”

“But his Majesty-”

“He doesn’t have to know. Our secret.”

“If you say so…it’ll take me time to get used to calling you by your name, princ- I mean, Sunghoon.”

“Already getting there.”

“I guess so. In that case, you can call me by just my name. No need for ‘guard’.”

“Your wish is my command, Y/N.”

This was new. Not referring to someone by their title was disrespectful. He learned from a ripe young age that if he didn’t call someone by their title, he could end up with his head on a guillotine block in some places. Were you seriously making all his long years of education unravel? Silence fell upon the two of you before he spoke up again.

“What do you think love is like?”

You must’ve been taken aback, and he expected to see such an expression on your face. Instead, when he stole a glance at you, it was something else. Wistful? Longing? He couldn’t name it exactly.

“Books don’t give it justice. Neither do ballads. It’s…more than that.”

He was intrigued by your response. He raised an eyebrow, signalling you to continue.

“Oh? You’ve been in love before?”

You stared at him, a sad smile forming on your lips, a look flashing in your eyes. One of remorse, he recognized.

“Yeah. It was depressingly…beautiful.”

His chest tightened at your words for some reason.

“Heartbreak?”

“Kind of. We fought a lot…our personalities were very different. Then when we finally reconciled…he died. An illness took him away.”

Your eyes were filled with so much hurt, it almost made him cry. This was his first time seeing you emotional, vulnerable, and while he was honored that you trusted him enough to show you this side of yours, he wondered how much you were hiding away. All he wanted was to protect you so that you would never have to go through something as painful as that. He made a resolve to make sure that he was never the cause of the agony in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry that happened.”

“It’s fine. It was just- unexpected. It’s been a year anyway.”

“I hope this doesn’t bring back memories you buried, but…how would you describe love?”

You rested your chin on your palm, thinking for a bit.

“Love isn’t only about the physical signs. For me, love is always wanting to be by someone’s side, being so head over heels for them that even the littlest things like…I don’t know, something stupid, makes you remember them. It’s being their biggest supporter, but also telling them when they’re wrong. Love is wanting to keep them safe from all the bad in this world. It’s when even the simplest thing they do brightens your day, like a smile or a small act of kindness. Love is when you put their needs and wants above everything and everyone else. There’s obviously more, but that’s my personal experience.”

Holy moly. Sunghoon was in love.

He was in love. That emotion many desired to feel at least once. All his previous notions and confidence about it being platonic flew out the window. He very clearly did not learn enough about this feeling. He didn’t know whether he wanted to be happy that he could say he had loved once in his life, or scream in frustration that he fell for someone out of his league and not some princess who he was supposed to want like this.

God, he hated himself.

“Pri- Sunghoon, are you okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He couldn’t let you know, he was a hundred percent sure that you didn’t feel the same. Plus, he was the prince, and if you both were caught, it would mean bad for him and catastrophic for you.

“I’m fine. Come, let’s go. We might get caught if we stay any longer.”

He stood up immediately. You were confused but followed his orders. What he said, you obeyed.

It had been eight months since you became his personal guard, and half a year since he realized that he was in love with you. He tried to distance himself, but one look or word from you and his resolve faltered. He was so deep in this pit, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to dig deeper or climb out. He wanted you to stay away and he also loved the way you destroyed every single one of the walls he built around himself subconsciously.

He matured, and he was no longer the shy boy who didn’t know how to talk to someone of the opposite gender. He was a confident and charming crown prince now, the man of many’s dreams. You were the only one on his mind though.

His father was now eager to get him married off, and he had to comply with his wishes, He was no longer the king who served the people anymore - he was corrupted, only thinking about power. Sunghoon did his best to undo the damage inflicted on the population, but the situation was getting tense, and he knew it. Rebels were raising their heads and it was his job to keep them in check. It was difficult, but you helped him through it.

Presently, he was sitting in the dining room with his family, the king, queen, princess, and officials of the Hwan kingdom. This was the proposal his father liked the most because the Hwan kingdom was rich in resources, and this alliance hidden as a marriage would give the Parks access to those coveted precious stones. He was hoping, however, that the other king would say no for some reason and he’d be free.

He had no interest in the princess, however. She was too boring for him. They had zero common likes, and the only thing they related to each other on was the struggles of being next in line. This was probably the worst match he had ever met. She seemed like she wanted this much less than he did. She was at least trying, he had to give her that.

You stood behind him on his right side. He so desperately wanted to turn around and see your reaction to all this. Your face had to have no expression now, obviously, but you both shared secret looks with each other in odd situations, and he was sure you’d find this amusing. The chatter across the table died down suddenly, and all the attention was on the two kings in the room.

“We’ve agreed on this marriage. Prince Sunghoon and Princess Hyeju are now betrothed!”

Sunghoon’s hands, which were tapping the table, stilled. He froze in shock, every voluntary muscle in his body stopping movement.

No, this couldn’t happen.

This was a nightmare, a terrible dream. He pinched his thigh underneath the table and ended up proving to his dismay that he was wrong.

This was the worst day of his life.

His father droned on about the details of the wedding. He tuned it all out. He tilted his head just a little to see your face and noticed that you were gripping your spear much tighter than necessary. You knew that he didn’t want this, not at all. Maybe you were angry on his behalf.

He couldn’t do anything about this, however. This was just his fate, and he resigned to it immediately.

The meeting ended, and everyone, including Sunghoon, stood up and exited the room. You followed him as he went straight to the gardens to clear his head. His family would be occupied with entertaining the guests and making more plans, so it was just you and him. Again.

He sat in his usual spot underneath the same tree. He buried his face in his hands, frustrated. He heard the sound of you sitting down next to him, before feeling your hand lightly grip his shoulder.

“Hey, Sunghoon?”

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s fine.”

“I know how much you don’t want this. Trust me, I don’t want it either.”

The second sentence was uttered in a more quiet voice, and he moved his hands away from his face to look at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Your lips formed a thin line, your body language making it clear that you were saying this with hesitation.

“I don’t want you to marry her.”

You removed your hand from his shoulder. You looked down at the grass, fresh and green from the new spring season.

“Why? I mean- other than me not wanting it personally, there’s no reason you should hate it…this is an amazing opportunity for the people and the kingdom! We will prosper-”

“Fuck the people and the kingdom- I want you, dumbass.”

His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.

“What…do you mean.”

“I love you really badly. That’s what I mean.”

He couldn’t believe it. You, the very person he always desired desperately, his forbidden fruit, loved him back? Wanted him? This wasn’t real. He must’ve been knocked out after the marriage announcement and slipped into a pleasant dream.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You want me to prove it?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t know what to expect, but you grabbing his face and crashing your lips on his was the farthest from his vague idea of what might happen.

It lasted for a few seconds before you pulled away suddenly. You noticed his dazed expression and started to panic.

“Shit, shouldn’t have done that, please don’t kill me, I-”

Your voice snapped him out of his haze before he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you in for another kiss. His hand tucked one strand of hair behind your ear and you melted into the action, calming down instantly. He was so gentle, so careful, he was holding you like you were a delicate object that was to be treated with utmost care at all times. When you both parted, his face wore a lovesick smile, his eyes sparkling like stars.

“I feel the same.”

“Yeah, it was obvious.”

He chuckled at your comment, before frowning.

“You know this is dangerous, right? We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your shoulders slumped at his words, knowing that he was completely correct.

“I do. I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. I just didn’t…know how to tell you.”

He shook his head. To him, you could do no wrong. It was his fault. He should have gotten rid of you so that he could nip the blooming flower in his heart from the bud. He shouldn’t have been such a coward.

“I understand what you mean now. I don’t know how to stop it, though.”

“That’s…fine. Just knowing you feel the same is enough for me.”

It wasn’t. Neither for you, neither for him, and you both knew that. The fact that he couldn’t be yours and you couldn’t be his simply because of both of your duties was like a nasty, sharp torn ledged in the soft flesh of his heart. You and him were not meant to be. Your romance was only a fantasy, to be never fulfilled.

“Precisely. This is all it’ll ever be.”

It was night. He had one week until his wedding with the Hwan princess, and he was dreading it. Seeing your face became unbearable for him sometimes — you reminded him that he had everything a commoner could only dream of, but even the poorest of poor could love and he couldn’t. He was ready to throw his entire life away and disappear with you, but his fear of what would happen next to the country held him back.

He stared out the window in his bedroom which gave him a perfect view of the private gardens. The place where it all started and ended. The moonlight shone on the trees and flowers, giving it a peaceful aura, different from the cheery one it had in the daytime. Even in the comfort of his silk night clothes and soft blankets, he was in a state of unrest. He wanted to run, wanted to be free, wanted, wanted, wanted. He lay down, resting his head on his pillow as he waited for sleep to find him while he closed his eyes. Thankfully, the night was kind to him, and he dozed off almost instantly.

Sunghoon was rudely woken up by you frantically shaking his figure, pleading with you to wake up. When he came to his senses, he heard alarms sounding in the palace and immediately understood that it was an emergency, although what might’ve exactly happened was beyond him.

“Y/N, Y/N, I’m up. What’s going on?”

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and slapping his face for good measure.

“Rebels. Come, we need to run.”

The first word was enough for him to be fully alert. He foresaw them coming, so it wasn’t a big shocker for him. He put on his slippers and looked at you with determination. He was actually trying to mask his fear, but you didn’t need to know that. You grabbed his arm and ran out of the room. He was a bit startled at your speed at first, but quickly matched your pace. When you both reached a corridor, you slowed down, wanting to be careful of surprise attacks.

“Hide your face to the best of your ability. I’m not sure if they’ll recognize you in non-prince clothes, but it’s better to be safe. They’ll aim for me instead since I have the palace uniform.”

His chest tightened. You were ready to give up your life for his. He knew that was protocol for all soldiers - royals over their own lives. He knew, but you were different. He didn’t want you to die, he couldn’t imagine a life without you. You were his oxygen, he’d suffocate if you were gone.

Suddenly, he noticed a flash of light. He heard a whoosh and he saw the way your hair moved in the direction of the sound. He assumed it was a gust of air along with the lights of the palace shining weirdly, but then he looked at the wall in front of him and realized what it was - an arrow. It was embedded in said wall, and you had missed it by a hair’s breath. Literally. It had scratched your face, but other than that, you were fine.

You pulled him down to remain on the floor, before you stood up and ran to the rebel that shot it, your hands gripping your sword tight. You engaged in combat with her. She was rather buff, and even though she only had a bow and an arrow holder on her, she was slowly gaining ground in the fight. She was blocking your thrusts with her bow, catching your moves with its string. She landed a harsh blow on your chest, and he gritted his teeth seeing your sharp flinch. He had to do something and fast.

He crawl-walked across the floor, making sure to stay unnoticed. He moved to stand behind the rebel before forcefully grabbing her neck. She was gagged, and the sudden lack of air caught her off guard. You took the opportunity and struck her in the heart, and he let go of her.

You both ran off, eager to get to the safe room specially built for situations like this. Barely some distance away, he raised his head, neck aching from the constant strain, when you suddenly pushed him to the ground and covered his mouth with your hand. He was about to protest, feeling kind of hot and bothered with his position, but then he decided against it. You definitely did this for a reason, and he could repress his feelings for a while.

Your head turned as you stared at a rebel passing by, praying he wouldn’t notice you both. He was blind to your movement thankfully, and as soon as he left, you got off of Sunghoon, pulled him up, and ran. You pushed the door of the safe room which was behind a cupboard open with your shoulder, and he then realized that he was the first one to reach. The door closed, and he glanced at you, relief and gratitude clear in his eyes.

You gave him a thumbs up and turned to leave to assist the other soldiers with getting the rest of his family to the room when he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You looked at him with confusion, and you opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing when he placed his lips on yours. You let out a soft gasp when he held you closer, one arm around your waist, the other hand on your back, holding you close. This wasn’t like the last time you kissed — this was desperate, filled with emotion. He let go of you too soon, eyes shining with tears.

You both knew that there was a chance you wouldn’t come back to him, and this could be the last time he saw you.

You squeezed his hand in an attempt to reassure him. He just nodded at the door, knowing that you had your duty. You bowed and left as he watched you in fear, praying that you’d make it.

After the attack by the rebels, there were always new questions about the palace’s security floating around. Quite a few lives were lost. None of them were you or his family, but Sunghoon still grieved for them mentally. He couldn’t imagine the agony their families must’ve been going through, and he managed to convince his father to give all the deceased’s close relatives compensation.

The wedding was called off for now, much to his delight and his father’s despair. The old man had accused him of doing something to sabotage it, but he had grown a thicker skin, thanks to you. All efforts were now being put into strengthening the forces of the kingdom, and the actual matters of state were being ignored. This would lead to more rebellion, but his father didn’t seem to care. At this rate, he could die if he stepped out of the palace grounds — the people hated him that much. Sunghoon was already preparing to become the next ruler since that future would become a reality pretty soon.

A surprise attack was inevitable, but he didn’t expect the aggressor to be the damn Hwan kingdom.

They must’ve heard about the damage inflicted on the palace from spies and knew that the Park kingdom would be focusing its efforts on repairing it, thus taking advantage of the situation. It was smart of king Hwan, Sunghoon would give him that.

He rode his horse while inspecting the soldiers preparing for battle. None of them were properly ready for this. Many veteran soldiers were on break and were called back suddenly. They all did come, and he was grateful to them for that, even when they had the right to refuse. The troops were arranging their positions quickly, and a little bit of his anxiety relaxed. Their army was strong, they could face this.

As he rode back, he saw his father, who was seething with rage at being betrayed, Sunghoon’s brain was in overdrive. Many of these brave soldiers would sacrifice their body and soul for a stupid fight that wouldn’t bring much to the land that could have been easily prevented. He knew it would happen, but didn’t do anything that was enough to fix it. He couldn’t keep falling short of what was necessary, that wasn’t what a future king would do.

Not wanting to talk to the old man, he rode a little further where you were on your own horse, surveying the battlefield. He relaxed a bit more upon seeing you and moved to be next to you.

“This will be a tough fight, Sunghoon.”

“I hope it remains a fight that ends today and not a war that stretches over days.”

“Where we are victorious.”

“Obviously.”

“My- Sunghoon, what will you do in case your father…is killed?”

The slip-up and the way ‘my Sunghoon’ rolled off your tongue so perfectly made him miss your actual question for a moment. He let out a soft giggle, before manning up to think. He hadn’t considered that possibility at all. If that happened, then he would automatically become the next king. He’d rule the land and hopefully lead better than the previous king and his reign would be peaceful. He’d make sure of that.

“Be the next ruler, of course. I’d promote you to my personal advisor.”

You cracked a small smile at that.

“Not enough brain. Plus, what if I don’t make it?”

“Won’t happen. You’re too sexy to die. Your abilities are top tier too, you’ll survive.”

You laughed now, and he smiled fully at you. This was a situation unheard of — right before a whole battle, he was here flirting with you and laughing. So very serious.

He leaned his head closer to yours, hair falling over his eyes. They were pleading silently with you to steal one last kiss, one last secret gesture of love before you both left to fight, one last chance to hold you. You shortened the gap, about to comply, when the war horn sounded, signaling the start of the battle. He frowned, angry at the lost chance, but quickly kissed your forehead. You pecked his cheek in return, before putting on your helmet and riding off.

The sound of hooves hitting the ground and the sight of dust flying from them brought him back into the moment, and he rode in the same direction as his own army, intending to lead the fight. His father was weak and made dumb decisions, so it was up to him. He moved directly to the frontlines, pulling out his sword from its hilt as an enemy soldier charged at him. He fought with ease, and soon a dead body was on the ground.

He should have been desensitized now upon seeing gore and corpses, but it still disgusted him. He gritted his teeth and averted his gaze as he parried with more enemies. Soldiers were dropping left and right from both sides. Blood splatters were on his own face from fighting so fiercely. It was a miracle that he was still standing with only minor injuries, the Hwan soldiers were vigorous.

Time was passing quickly, although for him it felt like an eternity. He just wanted to go back after all this ended. He didn’t care if he had to marry the Hwan princess, all he wanted was for this bloodshed to end. The sound of arrows being shot, horses neighing, grunts of hurt and dying soldiers — it was all too much for him.

All of a sudden, a more experienced soldier was attacking him, he could tell by the moves. His entire focus was on fighting back because this guy could actually kill him, that much was clear. He didn’t notice the other soldier charging towards him from his left with a spear until he heard a clang.

His eyes darted in the direction of the sound for a second, only to see you had blocked the attack and thrown the soldier off his horse. He was impressed and inspired by you, and with renewed strength, he killed the veteran. He gave you a thumbs up, before looking to his right as someone else ran to replace the deceased soldier. He was ready to fight that person and everyone else with you and for you.

Then, tragedy struck.

An arrow was heading in his direction. Occupied with the current fight he was in, Sunghoon was in no position to dodge it, and you took the blow. Pushing his horse with your own, the arrow lodged in your chest instead. The only reason he noticed it was because of the sound of pain you made. He finished off the man fighting him, and then turned his head to look at you. Your head was drooping slightly and your grip on the reins of your horse had faltered.

No, no, no, this can’t happen!

You were supposed to stay with him, you were supposed to be by his side forever, he was supposed to get more chances to love you, even in secret, not just lose you like this.

He immediately shoved his sword back in its hilt before grabbing your torso to steady you. You were very faintly there, you just had to keep going a bit more for him, and he knew you could.

“Y/N, hold on, okay? Don’t close your eyes, please.”

“Try…ing.”

Fuck, your voice was so weak, you really were trying. He’d end your suffering soon, he promised silently.

Coincidentally, the war horn sounded once more, signifying the end of the battle. It was his kingdom’s, which meant he had won, just like you wanted.

But you weren’t conscious enough to realize it.

He promptly sat you on his horse in front of him, one arm around your waist holding you close and tight. He galloped fast to the palace medic, the best one in the entire region. He ignored the weird looks and the shouts of his name, traveling with urgency. He had to move fast for your sake, and also for his own. He’d lose his shit if you…no. You weren’t going to, he was sure of it.

“Try to not focus on the pain, we’re almost there.”

That was stupid advice, but he had to say something, anything to save him.

“This doctor will fix you up, I swear. Just- don’t give up yet, Y/N. I beg of you. It’s all I’ll ask for this badly from you.”

Your head was now tilted back, and it rested on his right shoulder. You opened your eyes slightly to look at him, which he took as a good sign.

Then you spoke.

“I won’t…won’t make it. It’s…no point…denying it…my…Hoon, I…love you.”

At your words, Sunghoon’s lips formed a thin line as he squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds to force his tears to stay back. He could feel the blood running from your wound and collecting onto the sleeve of his suit, but he refused to accept it. You would make it, you couldn’t die.

“Shut-Shut up. You’re not dying, not when I’m here. Look, we’ve reached- you’ll be okay, I swear.”

He got off the horse, your limp body in his arms bridal style.

He wished he could be holding you like this in a different, more happier situation.

The doctor rushed out of her house and knew that it was urgent upon seeing the prince at her door. She took you in and he waited outside, pacing around nervously. He was so certain you’d survive, but the wound could be a major setback for the rest of your life. He’d have to make adjustments to accommodate you at the palace. He wouldn’t mind though, it was for you after all.

The doctor came out after a few minutes, and he waited for her to say something along the lines of ‘she survived, but ___’. Not to see her shake her head with a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry. She didn’t make it. She was gone when you came here. We tried our best, but…the arrow was poison tipped, which reduced her chances of surviving to zero.”

No. No no no no no. This lady was old and wrinkling, she was probably cuckoo and playing an unfunny prank on him.

“Can I see her? Alone?”

“Of course, sire.”

He rushed inside immediately, expecting to see you on the bed bandaged up and smiling at how well the prank worked on him-

She was right. You really were gone. You took your last breath in his arms. Your arms rested limply by your sides. The arrow was removed, but the blood stains were on your armor as evidence that the fatal injury did indeed happen. Useful reminder for a delusional ass like his. Your helmet was off your head now.

He sat down on a chair next to your bed and held one of your hands gingerly. It was already turning cold, and he hated it. He felt freshly made cuts and bruises along with older scars on your palm. His gaze fell on your face. The scratch you got from the rebel’s ambush was still partially healing. He took in your features with intense concentration, engraving them in his memory. He despised the fact that you looked so much at peace right now – when you just left his entire life in turmoil. He needed so badly to shake you back to life or something, but he knew that there was no point now. He lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing it in a tender manner, a weak replacement for the one you both missed maybe an hour or two before.

Just when he let go of your hand, the doctor rushed in with news.

“Sire, his majesty has passed away due to a…similar poisonous arrow shortly after victory.”

Both the people he knew wanted to win the most were dead just after it happened. Ironic, he thought - this was worthless now.

King Sunghoon walked through the cemetery for soldiers who had sacrificed their lives for the country. He stopped right in front of one which had many flower bouquets, a lot of them from his own previous visits, all of them your favorite flowers. He got on his knees on the right side of your gravestone, head bowed in respect and hands folded in his lap.

“Hello, Y/N. I know I’ve come to see you many times before, but I can’t help it. I miss you so much. You left too soon. I still believe that I should have taken that arrow instead of you…although it was for the better in hindsight. At least your last memory was of me and your pain ended quickly.”

Silence. He quickly wiped his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N. I still do, so much. I should move on by now, but it’s hard. Not when you meant so much to me, not when you changed me. A little for the worse, mostly for the better.”

He laughed dryly, looking at his hands. An expensive ring gleamed on his ring finger.

“I married a queen who I liked a lot. Not the Hwan princess, although she and I keep in touch often. We’re allies now. Kind of ironic, since I lost you and the old man in a war against that same kingdom’s old ruler.”

He wasn’t willing to let himself break, what if someone walked in on him sobbing over a dead soldier's grave? What would they think? He poked his eyes with his fingers, still in misery. No matter how much he tried, everything in his brain led back to you. While he didn’t want you to fade or leave his mind exactly, you were only meant to be a guest, visiting occasionally, not a permanent resident, not someone he still needed. When he calmed down, he quietly lifted his crown off his head and put it on top of your gravestone. He placed a solemn hand on it, closing his eyes. “This is a love stained crown, tainted with you and I, along with all our memories. Your affection will never wash away, no matter how much I try. I miss you and I love you, and I hope you’re doing better, wherever you are.”

#mallow’s works #mallow’s oneshots #divider by fairytopea #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen royal au #enhypen angst #sungoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon angst #sunghoon royal au #enhypen fic #sunghoon fic #sunghoon prince au #sunghoon enhypen #kflixnet

146 notes · View notes

perotovar · 7 months

Text

into the beat of the night (ch 1) "transmission"

gif by me, moodboard by the lovely @sp00kymulderr ♥

pairing: frankie morales/nb!oc (they/them) rating: T (for now) chapter warnings: discussions of sexuality/gender (frankie doesn't understand some things and may use language that would be harmful, but it's not intentional), limited knowledge of the military, goth stereotypes abound, mentions of drug addiction/recovery, swearing, cute shit word count: 2.7k dividers by @saradika

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary and turn on alerts ♥

series summary: frankie morales thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

series masterlist

a/n - i can't thank y'all enough for giving my fic a chance! i'm really nervous about posting it since i haven't properly written anything in years, but i've had some lovely cheerleaders (@scenaaario - who is also my lovely beta, i want to kiss you on the mouth for making this fic sound like i wanted it to ♥♥ - @undercoverpena @mrsquill and @kedsandtubesocks i love you guys ♥) along the way that gave me the motivation to post this little story. comments and reblogs are super appreciated! i'd love to hear what y'all think <3

In 1994, the U.S. adopted “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” as the official federal policy on military service by lesbian, gay and bisexual individuals. It was officially repealed in 2011. Seventeen years. For seventeen years, LGBTQ folks, Frankie included, had to hide. At least, he felt he needed to.

He knew he was bisexual when he and his childhood best friend Mateo were in their sophomore year of high school. Frankie and all the other boys started to hit puberty the year before and things were changing: facial hair was slowly growing, voices were dropping. Mateo started to develop a little faster than Frankie did. Frankie really liked how Mateo was developing. It was a little weird, because they’d been best friends since they were still wearing underoos, but Frankie started to feel things whenever he hung out with Mateo. Things he normally only felt whenever Alana in third period flipped her hair over her shoulder, or whenever Charlotte in fifth period stretched before she started writing and her sweater pulled over her chest a little too much.

Frankie didn’t know what to do with this information or these feelings. He didn’t have a word for any of it, so he just never said anything. He had a couple girlfriends throughout high school, and to anyone who cared to think on it, would see that Frankie was like any other straight, high school boy.

In 1994, Francisco Morales joined the military. He was nineteen. It was never his plan growing up to join, but his dad always wanted him to. When he didn’t have his own plan after high school, he figured it was a safe bet since he had family in the service. While there, he worked his way up in the ranks and eventually met his brothers: Santiago, Benny, Will, and Tom. They would die for each other, had signed up to do so, in fact. He’d grown closest to Santiago, and it was the first time since he was 15 that he got those feelings again. He pushed them to the side, though, because that’s when she came into his life. He didn’t need those feelings getting in the way.

Frankie’s bisexuality really only came into his life a couple of times. His first girlfriend in the military, Layla, was also bisexual and that’s when he learned what the word was and that it also applied to him. She only ever told him since Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was in full swing. Of course he kept her secret, because she also kept his.

The only one of his group of brothers that didn’t know about his sexuality was Tom. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell him, and the others agreed it was best to keep it quiet. Santiago was the first one to know, then Will, and finally Benny. Ben was Ben about it when he found out. He immediately hugged Frankie and excitedly suggested they go to a gay bar instead of their usual hang out. It made Frankie laugh and Will smacked Ben on the back of the head. (They did end up going to a couple of gay bars from time to time. Frankie only went home with a guy once and the guys gave him a lot of shit for it, asking for details. Santiago gave him a smile and patted him on the back and said, “I’m glad you’re finally here, hermano.”)

Frankie had one man he’d consider a “boyfriend” in his life. After he left the military and after DADT was repealed, he went on a bit of a binge. He started hooking up with people more often, despite his introverted nature. He was always careful, safe, and eventually kept to one man for a couple years, before an especially messy breakup. They were both pilots in the military, but were based in different states; Frankie in Florida, and Jackson in Kentucky. They bonded quickly after meeting at a nightclub in Nashville. Neither one of them remembers why they were there, but they made it a point to see each other frequently, each of them taking turns flying out to see the other.

The breakup happened after Jackson found Frankie’s stash for the last time. The military affected everyone differently. For Frankie, his coke addiction is what got him through the sleepless nights. Jackson had found Frankie one too many times leaned over the back of a toilet and snorting god knows what. Jackson had his own problems with drugs and felt that Frankie ignored them in search of his next fix. Addiction had completely taken over Frankie’s life for the better part of five years. Frankie hated Jackson for leaving him when he most needed him, and lashed out, accusing Jackson of only ever wanting to fuck. That broke Jackson, as he thought about how deeply he loved Frankie. Gay marriage was legalized a year later, and had things panned out differently, they might still be together. He doesn’t blame Jackson for leaving anymore.

Frankie’s daughter, Marisol, changed everything. She was the love of his life, and he would do anything for her. After going back to his days of sleeping around after Jackson left, he met Maya. He kept telling her that he would get clean and go to therapy while she was pregnant, but not until he held his little Marisol in his arms for the first time did he commit to both. He and Maya never planned on being together officially, and decided co-parenting would be their best option.

He’d been clean and sober for two years by the time Santi told him about the Colombia job. He hadn’t flown, or been allowed to in that time, and was pretty content to never do so again. Every time he got in the pilot’s seat, it would take him to terrible places. But Santi was his best friend, so he took the job. He relapsed when he got home, after Tom. He never blamed Santi for it. He gave Frankie a choice, and where he could’ve said no, he didn’t.

Which brings him to where he is now, two years after Colombia. He’d crossed the street and stood in line for the entrance. He hadn’t been to this nightclub in a while. He looked up at the sign for the club, and raised an eyebrow. The Night Owl. That… isn’t what it was called last time. Was it sold? Apparently, it had recently undergone a rebranding, with new owners, and a slightly… different clientele.

The best way he could describe it now was that it was a goth club. Frankie had never personally been to this sort of club, not really being a fan of the music or subculture, but never had a negative opinion either. He stuck out like a sore thumb when he entered, the bouncer giving him a once over and chuckling, but letting him in anyway.

He made his way over to the bar and had a seat, taking in his surroundings and started people watching. He planned on going out tonight, and possibly go home with someone. A club is a club, so he decided to stick around and see what all the fuss was about.

The walls shook with the heavy bass and beats of the music. It wasn’t like anything he’d heard before. His nostrils filled with the scent of clove cigarettes and hairspray. Everywhere he looked, someone completely decked out in teased hair and black clothing caught his attention. He smiled softly at all the variations in people’s style, wondering how long it took for all of them to get ready in the morning.

The bartender, a large man with heavy eye makeup and a lot of chains and spikes, came up to him and smirked. He felt a presence behind him and when Frankie finally faced forward again, he startled a little, not expecting such an imposing figure to be giving him a staredown.

“What’ll you be havin’, stripes?”

“Stripes?”

The bartender, who had a patch sewed onto his denim vest that read “Viper”, rolled his eyes and gestured vaguely to Frankie’s whole self. “You mean to tell me you’re not military?”

Frankie blinked a couple times and huffed a laugh. “Ex-military, yeah. Is that… okay?”

Viper gave him a long look, eyes slightly narrowed, and pointed to one of the many tattoos on his arm, up high on his shoulder. It was an old one, a little faded, but Frankie recognized it as the stripes given to Sergeant Majors. “I left after this. Got injured,” he said.

“Sorry to hear that.”

Viper shrugged and reached under the bar, cleaning a glass. “I’m not. So what’re you havin’?”

Frankie thought about it for a second. “I’ll probably regret this, but surprise me.”

An amused look crossed Viper’s features, but he nodded and started mixing a drink for him. Frankie noticed all the ingredients used; lager beer, hard cider, and some kind of syrup. He raised a brow and picked up the glass as Viper slid it across the bar for him. Frankie gave him a look as if to say, ‘Is this safe?’ despite having just watched Viper make it. The bartender chuckled and just gestured for him to give it a try.

Frankie took a deep breath and gulped down a drink. A little foam was stuck to his mustache when he lowered the glass from his face. “Not bad. What is it?” Frankie asked.

“Snakebite. Kind of a staple around here,” Viper hummed, cleaning a different glass.

Frankie chuckled at the name. Of course that’s what it was called.

Viper was pulled away when a pretty girl with big, teased hair and dark makeup came up to the bar. Frankie took the opportunity to look around the place again.

The music was best described as “dark” and “broody”, unsurprisingly, with slow tempos and even lower vocals. Everyone on the dancefloor was slowly swaying back and forth and, once in a while, would move their arms in ethereal shapes.

Frankie remembered seeing one of the younger teachers at Marisol’s daycare wearing a t-shirt with a band logo that looked like a bundle of sticks. He tried figuring out what it said once, but was too afraid to ask, so he still doesn’t know. He doesn’t think she’d be at this kind of club.

“You’re new. Bit like a zoo your first time here, I bet.”

Frankie startled, putting his hand over his heart and turned to look at who was talking. Someone had sat next to him and was grinning, taking a sip from their own drink; something dark red and a little cloudy. He blinked a couple times and took in their features; big green eyes rimmed with dark lines, two different nose piercings, and black lipstick. Their hair was long and straight, dark, and with the right side in front of their ear shaved completely. He couldn’t quite figure out if who he was talking to was male or female, the androgyny of their look very clear.

“Uhh, hello?” They waved their hand, full of rings and black nail polish, in front of his face and chuckled quietly. “Oh! Maybe–” They cut themselves off and started making a bunch of symbols and shapes with their fingers and hands.

Frankie blinked and started laughing softly. “I’m not deaf! Sorry,” he grinned. “You just startled me, that's all.”

“Oh!” The stranger laughed, too, putting a hand on his right knee in a friendly gesture. He looked down at the hand and smiled, his heart skipping a beat. Even if he didn’t know very much about them, he couldn’t deny it; they were very pretty.

He removed his cap and ran his fingers through the unruly curls for a second before putting the hat back on. “Sorry,” he repeated, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah, it’s my first time here. I didn’t realize the club had changed owners.”

“It did?” They asked, tilting their head to the left slightly.

“Yeah, it was a– Uh, last time I was here, it was a… different kind of club,” Frankie mumbled.

The stranger’s eyes twinkled mischievously, the smirk still present on their lips. “What kind of club? Are you secretly into some really heavy BDSM type stuff?” They wiggled their eyebrows.

Frankie had started taking a drink of his Snakebite again and nearly choked on it at the stranger’s teasing. He coughed a couple times, a wide grin on his face. “No! Nothing like that,” he chuckled.

The stranger snapped their ring-clad fingers like they were hoping he’d say otherwise and slumped their shoulders in disappointment. “Damn…”

Frankie’s cheeks warmed at the insinuation, but laughed, convinced they were just joking with him. He cleared his throat and continued, “Y-Yeah, uh, I wasn’t expecting this kind of… group, when I came by. Although, the name of the place probably should’ve warned me.”

“What kind of group?” The stranger grinned, watching his handsome features change from thoughtful to concerned.

Frankie panicked, worried he’d somehow offended them, and cleared his throat again. “N-Not that there’s anything wrong with– Um! I don’t, actually… know,” he tapered off, looking down as he scratched the back of his neck nervously.

The stranger snorted and waved him off. “I’m fucking with you,” they laughed. “I know what you mean. When I heard a new club opened up closer to my apartment, I got pretty excited. No more hour-long drives to the nearest one, y’know?”

Frankie nodded, their low, smooth voice captivating him the longer they spoke.

“Oh! Meant to say this before, but my name’s River,” they smiled and held their hand out to him to shake.

“Frankie,” he answered, holding his own hand out to return the gesture. But River beat him to it, and gripped his long, thick fingers in their own hand and kissed the back of his softly.

Frankie blushed like mad, eyes widening slightly. No one had ever kissed his hand before. He kept his eyes downcast, his hand still securely in River’s grasp.

River tilted their head, brows furrowed in concern before letting go of his hand. “Sorry, was that–?”

“No! N-No, um…” Frankie smiled shyly, tugging at a loose curl behind his ear. “It was fine– Nice, actually.”

River grinned as if they had clocked him immediately. “Well, Frankie, it was very nice meeting you. Will I see you here again?” They asked, looking him up and down.

Frankie found himself nodding before he could say or do anything else. “Y-Yeah, absolutely. Um, how–?”

“My song just came on, and I simply must dance to it. Later,” River winked, stood, and leaned over to kiss Frankie’s cheek as they slipped something into the front pocket of his flannel shirt.

River was gone before Frankie could ask anything else, his eyes following after them as they reached the dancefloor. He watched them dance for a few minutes before he was brought out of it by someone clearing their throat behind him. He spun around and saw Viper, the bartender, leaning toward him and giving him a look.

“You gonna pay for these drinks?” He grumbled, motioning toward Frankie’s Snakebite and whatever River was drinking.

He followed Viper’s tattooed finger and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling his wallet out and putting a couple bills on the bar. Viper nodded in thanks and Frankie took that as his cue to leave.

As he stood, he looked toward the dancefloor again in the hopes of seeing River one last time. When he didn’t, he tried to shake himself off and made his way toward the entrance. The bouncer gave him a look and Frankie just shrugged as he exited the club. The cool night air hit his still-warm cheeks, making him feel like he came back to reality.

“Oh, right,” he mumbled to himself and reached into his front pocket and pulled out a little scrap of paper. A phone number with two cute little devil horns drawn on either side and a little, ‘text me?’ written down beneath it.

Frankie smiled to himself and rubbed the ink on the paper with his thumb.

#frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fluff #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fluff #pedro pascal characters #oaksfics

235 notes · View notes

lunalockley · 1 year

Text

Night Desires

Dark!Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Warnings: I mean, dark sort of creepy Steven Grant wishing to do things he shouldn't. Nonconsensual desires? Maybe.

Words: 900+

Notes: This is very short and not as dark as it could, I'm just testing the waters! Let me know what you thinkkk and thanks for always reblogging and commenting nice things <3 love you all

Masterlist

gif credit

It began before I could even see your face, it began before I even knew your name. It began with your voice.

You didn't realize such thin walls this building has, did you? Of course, you didn’t darling. Is that why you started to rub your pretty little clit in the middle of the night on your first day in? You thought your good new neighbor couldn’t hear you? God, Love, the sounds you made. I could hear everything. I swear I’ve never been so hard in my life before, never so fast. I tried not to react to it, at first. I really tried. I’m a good guy after all. I’m a gentleman. But who could have resisted you?

I used to wonder how would you react if I told you. When you are all sweet and nice to me in the corridor, what would you do if I say how hard you made me come with your moans and that gasping breathing of yours? Would you blush if I say how I was stroking my cock with one hand and covering my mouth with the other so you couldn’t hear how you wrecked you had me? Would your heart pick up in your chest if I say how badly I want it to be my hands the ones that had you whining so pretty? Would that make you wet? I bet it would. You’re not a good girl, not all the time at least. I know that much.

But you can’t blame me, can you? After that first night, I decided I would never think about it again. I was ashamed. I was even planning on moving my bed from the wall to the farthest possible place in the flat. Can you imagine? I was planning on keeping myself away from you. What an idiot. I didn’t last much though. We bumped into each other in the elevator a few days later and I was a goner.

You had to be so bloody gorgeous, didn’t you? You were all smiles and blushed cheeks. Calling my name in that way you did. Steven, you said. How your lips wrapped the sound, how it ended somewhere low in your throat it drove me insane right there. Steven, it never sounded so glorious before. I wonder how it might sound all breathy and delirious in the darkness of your room, I wonder what it would do to me then. I need to find out.

It used to be okay Love, this little secret between the night, the walls, and I. My favorite time of the day. Delighted in you, holding my breath, measuring my movements to don’t lose any detail I could catch but then—then that disgusting vibrating sound ruining everything. Overcoming your sighs, your pretty little whines. Everything.

How dare you do that to me.

Using some lifeless cold machine when I’m right here alive and warm and eager to do anything you could ask me to. It’s cruel. Making me jealous of some stupid battery thing when I could give you everything. Anything you needed for as long as you wanted it. Letting you catch your breath just to start it all over again.

I hate it. Night after night I hate it more and more. That detestable repetitive sound. It makes me mad. I want to take it off your hands, rip it apart and show you—

Once I read that no man with power should be trusted because he will always use it for his own benefit. I used to think that wasn’t true. I had faith in people, I had faith in me. But now I know—If I just had a tiny little amount of power over you. If I had you all helpless at my mercy, nowhere else to go. God, the things I would do.

Nothing to hurt you, of course. I could never hurt you. Not if you don’t want me to, but I bet you would.

I would just take you the way I’ve wanted all these months. Pump my cock in and out of that wet pussy just like you do with that toy. But, Love, I would be so, so much better. I would know how you need it just by looking at you. Giving it to you faster, slower, harder. And you just would need the lay back and take it for me.

At first, I would have you on your knees. I want to hold you against a wall and fuck your pretty face until your throat is burning, until you’re choking on me and tears run down your cheeks. But I want it slow and tender too. I want you to take just as much as you want to, your hand stroking the rest. I want you to lick me, to savor me. I want to feel your lips and your tongue. And I want to kiss you afterward.

And I want to taste you. I want to drag my tongue just like I’ve been dreaming for so long and I want to feel you tremble and to hear you beg and I want you to get mad and push me against you, I want to lose my breath and have you in my mouth and my lungs and my hands.

And I want to know how those pretty little sounds feel right in my ear. The warmth of your ragged breathing into my neck. Your soft hands holding into me. Your wet cunt clenching hard around me, and my name on your lips over and over again.

I need everything and more.

I fantasize about it. All the damn bloody time. About just breaking in and giving you what so desperately need.

Anything you need.

I used to want but I’m getting tired of it. Enough is enough, Love. I’ll start doing now.

#dark!steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector x reader #moon knight #marc spector #moon knight x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant x you #steven grant fluff #moon knight imagines #mcu moon knight #jake lockely smut #jake lockely x you

472 notes · View notes

solomons-finest-rum · 10 months

Text

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 3

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — This time it took me much faster to write, mostly thanks to your wonderful replies and reblogs! 💗💗💗💗💗

WORD COUNT — 2,103

Masterlist

“So this is the man you have chosen for yourself?” Polly asked you when she followed you out to the porch for the much-deserved cigarette break.

The rest of the Shelby clan, as you have started to call them in your head, were left alone with Alfie, because you couldn’t take any more of their so-called negotiations. Somehow you weren’t exactly sure which party you felt sorrier for.

So you tried to escape, but Polly, ever the careful strategist, wouldn’t leave you alone. You paid it no mind, or so you wanted to pretend.

“Alfie?” You lit a match for her, which she gladly accepted. “He’s my husband.”

“Of your own free volition, no less.”

“Don’t be glib.”

Even though, curiouser and curiouser, you noticed you and Polly smoked the same brand of cigarettes, neither of you said anything to acknowledge the fact.

“Anna…”

“Polly.”

“All I want…”

“Yes?”

“All I want is to know you’re happy.”

“I am happy.” You paused. “Is Michael?”

You knew that wasn’t what the discussion was about, nor really the question that the Shelby matriarch wanted to answer. But you decided not to give her too much leeway. If she would ask you things in a more straightforward manner, you would perhaps answer, but you weren’t in the habit of being especially accommodating.

“He’s not who you think him to be, you know. Alfie.” You offered this much, because whether you wanted to admit it or not, Polly’s saddened expression did tug on your heartstrings—even if just a little.

“Oh, I think we both know exactly who he is, dear.”

You smirked.

“Enlighten me, please.”

Polly frowned and after some initial hesitation related for you pretty much the essence of the past few years and her family’s dealings with one Alfie Solomons. Most of it you knew, some of it was news to you, but nothing exactly changed your mind about the man.

What Polly or the rest of the Shelbys didn’t know was that the man behind the violent and unpredictable mask wasn’t really who you married or woke up next to every single day. But you didn’t feel like enlightening them just yet. The past you and Alfie shared meant so much more than territorial pissings.

“I know his reputation, Polly, but that doesn’t change the fact I owe him my life,” you informed her. “And Tommy tried to take his.”

This, as expected, wasn’t the reaction Polly wanted to hear.

“What happened to you?” she whispered incredulously, her dark eyes full of questions.

“A lot of bad things happened to me. Things I don’t necessarily want to relive.”

Polly’s grip on the porch railing got a little tighter.

“None of it was your fault,” you offered her that small consolation, regardless whether you had any real evidence for it. You were now a part of Alfie’s world, but you weren’t as ruthless. Never could.

Polly looked at you with hope so evident in her face that you couldn’t really find any other words than those you knew to be true: the rest of your story.

“Mind you, I don’t remember much and I’m sorry to say I don’t remember you at all, Polly. Your voice is familiar to me, but when I try to look further back it’s like looking at something through a dusty glass. I mostly remember Michael and sometimes I even get bits and pieces of how he used to play with me. Well, how he used to drag me around in a shoebox on a string.”

Polly laughed at that in surprise.

“I’m sure it was John who gave him that bright idea,” she said quietly, as if worried that any audible reaction would cause you to stop talking.

“I don’t doubt it.”

“When they took you away, I… It felt like…”

You waited patiently for Polly to gather her bearings, but what she said next shocked you:

“I think I missed you both so much that sometimes I simply wanted to die.”

It was hard to think of anything constructive to reply to that and so you hesitated to speak again. Polly lit another cigarette.

“Did they ship you off to the colonies?” she asked, evidently having deduced your lack of warmth for something it wasn’t.

The full truth was so much more pathetic, you thought. You weren’t good at these sorts of things; nobody in your life ever made you participate in heartfelt conversations. You didn’t know what to say to her about that previous confession and so you just answered the question:

“That was the plan. I probably would have died on the way there and almost dying seemed preferential at the time… Before they packed us up like slaves, they kept us in these big warehouses near the docks. All of us: convicted women, old, young, insane, some even children. Some just orphans and some real murderers. It was the most horrified I have ever been. You couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t breathe without someone trying to harm you one way or another. They fed us rotten food, wouldn’t let us clean ourselves, the bed bugs made the guards shave our heads… and then the fever broke out. Some of us were moved to a makeshift infirmary, where they also moved me when I fell ill. But that fever became my salvation. I wasn’t as well guarded there and one night when I regained consciousness I escaped.”

“What?” Polly gasped. “But how… Why did they say you died in Australia?”

“A fevered girl manages to escape His Majesty’s chamber of torture in her flea-riddled nightgown and lives to tell the tale.” You smirked. “Wouldn’t that make an uncomfortable headline?”

Polly thought about it for a second, but then confirmed with a nod that she agreed with your point.

“And Solomons, then?”

“I stole from him,” you laughed. “Don’t judge, I know the bakery is simply a front, but the bread they get is as good as any. And if you can’t see straight and haven’t eaten anything not covered in rat droppings for weeks… Your opinions on food ownership tend to get a little loser. Shame my reflexes had gotten so dull back then, because I would have gotten away with it, too. But I was delirious and truth be told probably looked dead already. So Alfie Solomons, the big bad wolf you think he is, took pity on me.”

It took a while for Polly to digest all that information and so you two just smoked in silence, up until her hand reached for yours somewhat unexpectedly. This time you didn’t reject her.

“I am sorrier than you could ever imagine, because—” Polly stammered.

“I know you are. But there is no need for it. I truly am at peace.”

After that, you just stood there holding hands, and even though you couldn’t know what Polly was thinking, you had a pretty good idea.

You were so different from Michael, that much was clear, and part of you wished you could express your feelings better than through an armour of perpetual cold or quips. Then again, from what you have heard today, Michael had led a very different life. Had you been allowed a normal home, with normal loving parents, perhaps you could have abandoned your snark and focused on rebuilding your relationship with Polly.

But, as things currently stood, it was too late to be something else than what life made you. A part of you would always remain on your guard, because no part of you would ever forget the hardships and the sacrifices you had to make from the ripe age of five. No child should ever see or endure what you had to.

“There’s still the matter of Boston,” Polly changed the subject swiftly and you smiled to yourself, wondering what her angle would be this time.

You came to like that about her, in the past few hours you came to finally know her. She was unpredictable and that kept you on your toes. If only she knew how much it resembled your husband’s own ways, perhaps she would stop with her side looks.

“What about Boston?” you asked.

“Your sister-in-law is Jack Nelson’s favourite niece. Or so we’ve heard.”

You shook your head and chuckled.

“You don’t like her, I take it. Gina Gray.”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Is it the snow habit or the scheming that bothers you more?”

“It’s the bad hairdo, mostly. I do like her choice in shoes, though…”

You laughed at that in earnest and looked at Polly to see her smiling at you, albeit a little shyly. The smile, you thought, removed ten years of worry from her face.

“I have heard about the Nelsons,” you informed her. “I don’t suppose Michael will look too kindly on what we’re about to do to them. But then again… They did kill Alfie’s uncle. They messed with his business. I don’t see how it could be forgiven.”

“No, I don’t see how it could. But I can still hear them talking in there and nobody shot anyone yet.”

“So we are in agreement.” You threw the rest of your cigarette away and looked at Polly once more.

“We all make sacrifices, I suppose,” she agreed. “But you, my darling, have made plenty. We will not ask you for more.”

You smiled at her again, though this time there was much less wariness to it. She spoke in riddles and kept her cards very close to her chest, but that also reminded you of Alfie. You were sure now you would like her very much indeed.

“Absolutely not. Out of the fuckin’ question, fuckin’ ridiculous.” Alfie waved his hand dismissively and then looked at you as soon as you and Polly came back inside. “You’re upsettin’ my wife, thanks very much, mate, all right, just look at her, Tommy, she’s plenty upset!”

“And why would I be upset, Alfie?” you chirped.

“She doesn’t even know what she’s sayin’ no more, poor thing.” He stood up abruptly, too abruptly for Arthur’s taste who immediately reached for his gun.

“Now, you’re alright there, sweetie, yeah, no need to get emotional,” Alfie gave him a look, “but my wife does need her rest, all right, an’ I don’t particularly need us all to tuck her into bed, it ain’t that kind of thing.”

Confused, you let your husband take you upstairs to your bedroom, because to be fair you knew better than to interrupt his scheming in business. It let him break the habit of scheming in your personal lives.

“Might I know why I’m being relegated to my bed without dinner like a toddler, Alfie?”

“Yeah, I need to talk to you, come ‘ere.”

As soon as the door closed behind you, you heard the telltale noises of a very agitated discussion happening downstairs.

“What did she tell ya then?”

“Who?”

“Your mother, hm?”

“It was mostly me doing the talking.”

“She told ya about Boston.”

“How did you…?”

“Hm, I didn’t, right, but now you just told me. So out with it.”

Honestly, you were sometimes so impressed with his skill of manipulation that you forgot to be annoyed at being the manipulated party.

“Alfie, if you don’t want your wife to divorce you, I suggest you utilise those evil gifts of yours on our guests.”

“Fair, but don’t be mad, luv, all right, come ‘ere,” he smiled and pulled you closer, “and tell your beast of a husband if he should go to war or not, ‘cause this time I don’t think I can do it without you.”

“Alfie, you have done it without me. Many times.”

“Precisely my point, all right, I’m the one who knows how it feels to not have you to keep me sane, luv, so if you say we don’t do it, then we don’t, yeah?”

“You… you’d abandon your vengeance? For me?”

“In a heartbeat, luv, what kind of question is that even, you don’t ask me that. ‘Course I fuckin’ would.”

Remembering what Polly said about Gina, your mind was pretty much decided. You appreciated Alfie’s honesty, always have, but disrespect couldn’t be easily forgiven.

“Then I say we do it.”

The sudden fire in your voice made Alfie grin.

“I say we kill them all, Alfie. You take Boston and Tommy can have Jack Nelson’s head on a spike.”

“On a spike, hm?”

“That’s right.”

He gently took your face in his hands and looked at you with such affection that it only reassured you in your thinking.

“I love it when you talk business to me, luv,” he concluded.

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy x reader

238 notes · View notes

thisismeracing · 7 months

Text

King of my heart | MS47 | part. 20

Pairing: Mick Schumacher x Hamilton!reader (she/her)

Warnings: curse words, mentions of food and alcohol, tooth-rotting fluff, angsty, mentions of anxiety and break up, not proofread, etc, etc. Minors DNI!

word count: 1.9k

part. 19 | series masterlist | part 21 | taglist

Summary: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that’s why, for the first time in forever, he threw caution carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

A/n: Thank you so so much for all the love and support! I see you, and I appreciate you! *mwah* I hope you guys like this chapter! Don't forget to reblog and let me know your thoughts <3

“Hey, Mase,” Yn smiled when she spotted the brown-haired Brit on the farthest table. Her stomach did a little somersault, and her heart got confused between beating faster or keeping the usual pace.

Mason was right in front of her, wearing a white shirt and his biggest grin, the same he used to wear when they first became friends. Yn watched how he fiddled with his sunglasses and smiled wider. He, too, was a bit nervous about this conversation. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” she said before sitting down in front of him.

“We both deserve closure,” Mason stated, and Yn nodded.

She grabbed her phone, typing away a message to tell Mick she got there safely, and when she put down the device, she saw Mason eyeing the whole scene.

“Does he make you happy?” he asked, no harm or hidden hatred behind his question and Yn knew it because his features seemed relaxed, a small tug on the corner of his lips gave away he wasn’t stressed or bothered.

She nodded, “The happiest. Maybe that’s why I was so scared at first because I’ve never felt like this. And I know how dangerous unknown feelings can be.”

Mason bit his lips, “Was he the reason you wanted to see me? Did he suggest it?”

“Yes and no,” she shook her head and chuckled. “He didn’t suggest it, Lewis did, actually. He has been since we broke up, you know he used to be wiser than us both, and he still is.”

“I hope Lando doesn’t hear this, but I secretly root for Lewis. I will always do, even though we’re not really family anymore, nor friends.”

With the fond mention of her brother, Yn smiled, “Deep down he liked you, he was just afraid we were gonna hurt each other, and, he won’t admit it but he was jealous too. You were my first serious boyfriend after all.”

“My mom loved you too, even though she wouldn’t say it.”

Yn rolled her eyes playfully, before straightening her back, “We were so young, now look at you, playing for the big clubs, having fans around the world. I’m proud of you, Mase. And I’m sorry it took me forever to finally get to this point, I’m sorry for the things I said when we broke up, sorry for not being more patient with you.”

“I’m sorry too, Yn. I was kind of a dick to you in some situations, I can recognize it. We both should’ve had more patience, but I don’t condemn who we were, because, at the end of the day, you can’t expect experience from somebody who only started adult life. We were young and a bit reckless if you ask me,” their eyes met, and shared a laugh, both remembering the same situation.

“Still, I should have messaged you before. We were young, but we know better now, it’s been a while since we know better, and I should have-”

Mason grabbed her wrist gently, and laid her hand on the table, “You know what didn’t change? You still act like everything is your responsibility and your fault. It’s not your job to fix the world, Yn. You could have messaged me before, yes, but so could I. But neither of us was ready, we didn’t have a reason to do so too. Now you’re in love, and you want to dive in without the weight of a past relationship, that’s reason enough, and it’s ok to do it for yourself, you deserve tranquility too.”

Yn averted her eyes to her glass of water, just when the host got to their table, asking what they would order. Both smiled politely, asked for the vegan version of whatever was the main dish that night, and went back to talking.

“I see your point,” she breathed.

“You gotta let people in. Yes, you need to think about others, but sometimes, some things can be avoided just by sharing the burden,” Mason stopped to take a sip of his water. “I think this is one of the reasons we didn’t work, we both wanted to take the weight and we didn’t communicate the way we should. We were so caught up in not hurting the other that we ended up hurting ourselves.”

“We hurt each other too,” Yn sighed.

“We did, and I was so angry I wouldn’t eat at your parents anymore, your dad was a great chef,” they laughed.

“Shut up, I had a list of things I would buy for your niece, and by the time some of the stuff I bought got there we weren’t together anymore.”

Mason threw his head back, covering his face with his hands to suppress the noise.

When silence settled by their table, Yn asked, “Do you forgive me?”

“Did we forgive ourselves already?”

She rolled her eyes again that night, the same playful banter as before, “My older version was a bit reckless, but I wouldn’t be here without her, so I found it in me to forgive her, yes. How about you? Have you forgiven yourself?”

“Yeah, I’ve learned my lesson, nowadays I keep all the important dates on my calendar and they’re synced so if I lose my phone I won’t forget about a date,” he joshed making Yn laugh. They fought once because Mason forgot they had a date night scheduled, only for the fight to get bigger when Yn lost her phone and, without her calendar, forgot about one of his soccer matches. “I forgive you, Yn. Can you forgive me too?”

“I think I forgave you a long time ago, Mase, I just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.”

He smiled.

They kept talking through dinner, from how their friends' group were nowadays, to racing and football. They had forgotten how funny talking to each other was. They still were compatible even after so many years, after growing and living and going through their fears, they still had that small seed that grew into a beautiful friendship years ago.

When it was time to go, Mason wrapped his arms around Yn in a tight and long hug.

“I wish you all the happiness in the world,” she whispered.

“I wish you all the happiness in the world,” he repeated, adding, “You deserve it.”

“We do.”

“Thank you, Yn. Let your boyfriend know you guys can have free seats in any Mancity game you want,” he lightened the mood.

“Meh, I don’t think he’ll be that thrilled, Lew already got him into the Arsenal train,” Yn joked and Mason huffed, “but tell your girlfriend she’s invited to my next launch, and she can have a free pair of heels from this winter collection.”

“She’s not my girlfriend yet, I’m still thinking about the best way to pop the question,” Mason reminded, and Yn shrugged.

“Yet. It’s just a matter of time. Also, this suggestion is only up if she’s not the jealous type, I don’t know, sometimes people are used to exes hating each other, when they see a pair different they can feel weird about it.”

“You’re ranting,” he chuckled.

“I’m ranting, sorry.”

“No, but she’s not jealous, I told her everything when the pictures came up, and she was fine. She still follows you by the way, liked all the posts about the winter collection, and talked my ears off when someone on Twitter said the shoes were ugly.”

They laughed.

“See you, Mase,” she bid farewell, planting a friendly kiss on his cheek.

“See you, Yn.”

When she got home that night Mick was sleeping on her couch, the TV on playing a random program about animals in Australia or whatever. The lights dimmed, and one of her scent candles was on, making the room glow and smell like peaches. She removed her heels, and coat, before lying on top of him, leaving a trail of kisses from his naked chest to his face. Mick moved slightly, brought her closer with one arm, and rubbed his eyes using his free hand.

“Hi, Schatzi,” his sleepy voice made Yn shiver slightly.

She smiled, threading her fingers between his messy golden strands, “Hi, love. Were you waiting for me?”

The Germa nodded, nuzzling his head on her neck, “I didn’t wanna go to be without you,” he confessed.

You could say they were going through their honeymoon phase, but they were very much aware that this would be a long phase. They would do things together and stay together as much as possible because they knew race weeks were crazy, their schedules wouldn’t always match, and both had a hectic life, so going to bed together, sharing breakfast in the morning, and doing small things with the other was something they agree on. Communication had been the key, and so both would confess their feelings and voice their needs, in order to avoid unnecessary fights.

“Well, let’s go then, we have a long day tomorrow,” Yn pecked his lips before getting up and they made the small walk to the bedroom tangled in each other.

“Did you finish packing?” Mick asked, eyes still closed, head buried on Yn’s neck.

She bit her lips, stopping by the bathroom door and turning her head. Their lips smashed together, and she scratched his neck lightly, earning a grunt from him. Mick’s grip on her waist tightened, and just when Yn thought she had him, he held her cheeks between his hands.

“Not gonna work,” he shook his head. “Did you finish packing?” he punctuated each word with a peck on her pouty lips and Yn whined.

“I didn’t, I’m sorry. Can you help me in the morning?” she gave him the doe eyes and Mick sighed, suppressing a laugh, before finally nodding. “Do you happen to have some free space in yours, by the way?”

This time she heard his laugh when he got inside the bathroom. She followed suit, watching him start to brush his teeth. She loved how domestic it felt to go through her night routine with Mick by her side. That wasn’t the first night they shared together, the first night he spent in her apartment, but each time she felt it again and again, and it was so peaceful. It felt warm and comfortable. It felt like love.

The next morning Mick helped Yn finish packing, they had breakfast at her parents’ house and then went on to their trip. They had planned to travel and enjoy the week’s break together in Mallorca, at the Schumacher’s holiday house. It wasn’t high season, but it also meant no beach for then, which wasn’t a problem, because they planned on staying at home and enjoying the privacy. Mick had some date nights ready in places he knew Yn would like, and she got a list of things they could do together in the house.

For the first time, she wasn’t really stressed about all the pap pics of her and Mason, and all the speculation happening. Mick wasn’t, so why would she?

They chose to focus on their trip and both agreed on starting to soft launch for some time, before finally going public. People already knew, or suspected, and it would be better if they got used to the fact that this was their life. Everyone would want a peek into it, and there was a portion of their life that would inevitably be in the open, so what they could do was give this portion themselves, instead of trying to keep it a secret and letting the media run their headlines.

Their plan would have worked if only they hadn’t got carried away at a party and kissed. In front of everyone. The thing is, sometimes people need clarity, which means until they didn’t announce their relationship the speculations would go on, and that same night tons of headlines were already up.

And the news was: Yn and Mason were back together.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: We’re so close to reaching the ending aaaaaaa I'm posting earlier to make it up because the last chapter was supposed to come two days ago and I kinda messed up. I hope you guys like it! <3 Don't forget to reblog and leave me a comment, asks are always open and you're free to use the anon button if you're shy *mwah*

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @shhhchriss @smiithys @f1kota @lunnnix @leclercsluv @baby-is-crying @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @callsign-scully @v1naco @dearxcherry @p8dris @heelariously @peachiicherries @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @thatgibbsygirl @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @minkyungseokie @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit

⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

#millie writes #ms47 #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher social media au #mick schumacher x black!reader #f1 angst #social media au f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 fandom #komh #mick schumacher instagram au #f1 instagram edit #f1 x black!reader

153 notes · View notes