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chososdiscordkitten · 20 days

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Synopsis: calling the jjk men good boy's for the first time ^-^

Includes: 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐨 >_< Content: GN!Reader, no explicit smut- mostly just soft stuffff, just one dick jump I think..? jjk men being simpppps

MDNI

Choso Kamo

The discovery that Choso liked praise was no surprise. If he had a tail, it would wag whenever you praised him; we know this.

But finding out he liked this kind of praise- that’s what shocked you.

It came out of your mouth so quickly. As though you had been calling Choso that more than you called him by his name.

He was making dinner- pattering around the kitchen with your eyes following his every move. You found it endearing how he insisted he would cook, “All you need to do is sit pretty and wait.” he would demand.

No objections coming from you, knowing if Choso didn’t cook- you would be eating takeout instead.

And when he offered you a spoonful to see how it was tasting, you closed your eyes with a pleased hum.

“Now there’s my good boy.”

You swore it was instinct- like you couldn’t filter the words that left your lips.

And as though time stood still- you opened your eyes with pinched brows, and your lips pulled to the side.

The little glimmer that shined in his eyes was one you only see in wonderfilled children when they see a candy store.

His cheeks blushed with a little smile forming at the corner of his lips, had his heart beat any faster in his chest you would have heard it.

“I’m a..?” he whispered, looking at you and wanting to hear you repeat it.

You got the hint he liked it from the moment you opened your eyes. Blinking innocently as his hand held the spoon tightly. “A good boy.” you smiled, trying to keep the embarrassed blush heating your cheeks at bay.

“My good boy.” you reiterated, watching his cheeks become deeper pink.

Choso nodded- as though this was some standard compliment that didn’t make the appendage between his legs jump at the name.

‘A good boy.’ he mouthed with a giddy smile as he continued making dinner.

For sure this only drove him to keep showing his affection with acts of service- only to hear your lips call him by that little name.

And you were happy to call him that if it meant he would keep looking at you with the same love drunk eyes.

After that, he would do a favor to you- not expecting anything in return except the new found pet name he wanted to hear you say.

So when he would bring you something you had asked for—the TV remote, a charger, or a snack on his way home—his heart would pound just waiting for the little name.

His head would rest on your chest with your hands rubbing small circles on his back and the other playing with his hair. Intent eyes watching the film you had put on- as though you were able to feel the stiffness of his shoulders. Waiting for the name.

You placed a kiss on his forehead, “My good boy.” you hummed against his skin- feeling him ease into your grasp with a soft exhale.

Hiromi Higuruma

You were sitting in the apartment office, scanning documents with hazy eyes till your mouth suddenly felt very- very dry.

But then you remembered you had a perfectly able boyfriend sitting on the living room couches waiting for you to finish working.

You picked up your phone- swiping through the useless apps and clicking on Hiromi’s contact- hearing his ringtone through the closed door before hearing the dial click.

Taking on a slightly stern tone, “I’m only a few feet away from you-” he started, only for you to sigh dramatically.

“I don’t think i've ever been so thirsty in my wholllleee life.” you sighed, pressing your forehead onto the desk and hearing a little chuckle rumble through the speaker.

You could hear the smile in his words, “That so?” almost sarcastically.

Humming a lazy ‘Mhm’ “How I wish I had a tall, strong, handsome boyfriend to bring me a glass of water wiiiittthhhh three- no. Four ice cubes.” You exhaled dramatically.

Hearing another little chuckle, “If only.” he muttered, playing coy to your specific demand.

You gave a frustrated exhale- “Hiromi, be a good boy and bring me a glass of water.” this time more demanding, no longer having the patience for his game of playing coy.

You furrowed your eyebrows- unable to comprehend just how tired you had to be to say that to him. The silence heard from the phone made your stomach fall.

Hanging up the phone with a small curse. Wondering if you had crossed a line that hadn’t been drawn by either of you.

You sat up and started working again- far too embarrassed to go out for your own glass of water and settling on the fact Higuruma wouldn’t bring you one.

That was till you heard looming footsteps behind the door of the office, hearing the door knob jiggle and widening your eyes at the hundreds of scenarios that raced in your mind.

There Hiromi stepped- casual as ever with a glass of water in his hand. Unbothered, and cool as a cucumber as he placed the glass on the desk with a little kiss on your forehead.

This made you think the call was cut out at the perfect moment.

You muttered a small ‘Thank you.’ still shy from the tired, unfiltered words that left your lips. Hiromi started walking out, his back facing you as he halted his steps at the door frame.

“Honey?” he asked, not even bothering to turn around. “Did you call me a good boy?” Your heart plummeted to your stomach from the question as your cheeks started warming.

You parted your lips to speak, watching his neck turn and peer back at you. “Depends..?” you squint your eyes, hearing a little laugh leave his lips.

Irking his head, almost to urge you to finish. “On whether you liked it or not...?” you whispered, looking at his expression soften.

His nose crinkled in the slightest- “I think I did.” he whispered back with a little crinkle formed on his nose. A nod from your warmed face in return, mindlessly accepting his confirmation and mouthing a soundless ‘ok.’

Turning around and taking a step out of the office and closing the door behind him. Knowing he would have to hear it a few more times to be sure he liked it or not.

Naoya Zenin

Rare were the times when the want to call Naoya a good boy arose.

He could be such a cunt sometimes- so the urge never really rumbled in your mind.

But when he would be sweet- when his hands held a gentle touch when cleaning a scrape you got on your knee. Or when he would gently clasp your necklace on for you- knowing you wouldn’t be able to see.

He would do those sweet things with a furrowed brow and a pouty lip- sure. But his hands showed his true feelings. How gentle they could be at times- that’s when the pet name would threaten to leave your lips.

But when you would hold his head in your hands, looking at him like an idiot in love- “My good boy.” you murmered, watching a light grimace form on his face at the name.

“Good boy?” he asked, almost disgusted.

You nodded your head- so sure that Naoya was as you said. “You’ve never called me that.”

He was so used to the strange pet names you would call him just to get a rise out of him- and he was sure this one was no different.

You shrugged, “You’re hardly ever a good boy. But when you are- I should tell you, shouldn’t I?” You murmured, being able to feel the warmth on his cheeks fill your palms- even if his expression said otherwise.

“M’not a dog.” he muttered.

“If you were- I would have trained you to be a good boy all the time by now.”

That’s when Naoya pulled his face from your hands and looked away from you. Not wanting to continue the conversation, knowing his cheeks must be flushed by now.

And the last thing he wanted was you on a power trip from making him blush. Especially from being called a good boy.

But when you started calling him that—Pavloving himself into thinking the little endorphins that would simmer in his brain would only happen if you called him that. And you only called him that when he was kind.

Naoya warmed to the name slowly- barely even grimacing at the callousness you’d say it with whenever he would be sweet.

Unknowingly, he was being trained to be nice and polite with one ‘good boy’ at a time.

Satoru Gojo

The times you would praise Gojo were always met with an, “I know.” smug and cocky in his actions to brush off your praise as just compliments.

But the first time you ever spoke those words to him- a praise he had never heard before now, and eager to hear it again.

Satoru had made a stupid comment about how you didn’t show your affections enough- “I’m deprived of kisses.” he murmured, complaining to you as though you didn’t spoil him rotten with your affections.

And in retaliation, you denied him any kisses or hugs. Show him what deprivation really was.

You were washing dishes, with a whiney Satoru behind you, his hands wrapped around your waist with his chin on your shoulder. “This has to be considered abuse!” another complaint as you denied his advances.

“You said I was cold and negligent, so I’m showing you how cold and negligent I can be.” You smiled to yourself, turning off the faucet and drying your hands on a nearby towel.

Hearing a stifled whine of desperation huff from his nose at your denial. “Jus’ gimme one kiss-” aiming his lips at your cheek only for you to pull away.

Turning over to look at him- faces inches apart with his hands daring to tighten their grip on your waist. Tilting your head to the side with a snide smile. “Only good boys who don’t complain get kisses.”

From how close he was- you could see the glimmer in his eyes become blinding at the pet name.

His features going soft with parted lips- “I’m good-” he choked out, looking at you with goal-oriented eyes. “I’m soooo good-” he muttered, bordering on panicked from the idea that you didn’t think he was.

Gojo’s hands gripped harshly at your hips. “Have you been a good boy?” you asked, almost sarcastically—as though you were speaking to a puppy.

He nodded- eager to hear the new compliment leave your lips. Only you nodded ‘no.’

“I don’t think you have ‘toru.” you hummed, his lips coming closer to yours with a sad pout. As though the idea of him being good in your mind was the most important thing he needed to hear.

He only placed his forehead onto the crook of your neck with a sad puff, your hand going up to his undercut, softly stroking the back of his neck in some feigned consoling. “Tell me i’ve been good.” he muttered quietly.

So spoiled from you caving with a little pout here or there. Practically putty in your hands as your other hand caressed the side of his face.

Rolling your eyes with a playful sigh, “You’ve been good.” with a half-assed tone, only for Satoru to look at you with sad eyes. Expecting more than what you offered.

Pressing a soft kiss onto his forehead and pulling away, “You’re a good boy.” you murmured, watching the light return to his eyes in sync with the little smile on his lips.

Blinking rapidly as though he was trying to blind you, “My good boy.” and that’s when he got his fill for affection for the next few minutes.

Then came the task of having to call him that whenever he wanted to hear it- looking at him with a displeased look, knowing you’ve created a monster that thrives on that special kind of praise only you could offer.

Kento Nanami

We can all agree- Nanami is the one who deserves to be told he’s a good boy the most, right?

There were times when the urge blossomed in your mind- at the tip of your tongue and so close to calling him that pet name. But you never did.

That was, until you got the guts to test the waters.

Laying on your back, a few minutes before bed and unwinding while on your phone, and beside you; a hazy Kento that was waiting for you to turn off your side table lamp. Always waiting for you to get ready for bed before allowing himself to fall asleep.

You let out a soft sigh before turning off your phone. Rolling onto your side with Nanami watching you from the side of his vision. Only this time you didn't reach for the little nob to turn your lamp off.

You only stayed on your side with a pensive hum leaving your lips. “Scratch my back Ken,” you muttered, clearly tired with your eyes closed.

Though you couldn’t see it- or hear it, you knew he had a little smile on his face as he shifted onto your side of the bed. A little shiver ran up your spine when his fingertips grazed the small of your back as he reached beneath your shirt.

A satisfied sigh left your lips when his barely present nails started circling small scratches between your shoulder blades, your cheeks tingling from the words you dared say. “Such a good boy.” with a little smile on your lips, Nanami couldn’t see.

Nanami didn’t fully process your mumbled words, only offering a hum in response as he kept up the gentle scratches.

But when his brain started thinking about what you said- thinking if he misheard you. Slowing his hand with furrowed eyebrows, “Did you call me a-” he hesitated in what he thought he heard.

“A ‘good boy’..?” bordering on a whisper from the nerves of being incorrect.

Only the little ‘Mhm!’ that left your lips swatted those nerves away. “You’re such a good boy- always so nice to me.” you hummed, closing your eyes against the pillow with his hand still acting on your demand.

A pensive hum left his lips before slowly dragging his hand out of your shirt. You opened your eyes in dread, thinking he didn’t like it- only to hear him plop on his side of the bed with a throaty exhale.

“Then be good and scratch my back.” he murmured, clearly too tired to process what he had just demanded- and the tone he used opened a whole other can of worms. But seeing as it was only fair- you did the same.

Toji Zenin

He had been bugging you to finish your work for a while. Poking and prodding at you to stop working and pay attention to the film he put on to distract you.

Toji had this thing where he pretended not to care- but you could see that it bothered him with every little side eye he made at you when you would stop typing for even a second. Hoping you were looking up at the TV instead of the screen on your lap.

But every side eye he would make, Toji would find you still working.

Going as far as nudging you with his elbow to mutter some bullshit lie he thought up on the spot.

“M’hungry.” he muttered when you would look over at him.

“Then eat.”

Only a few minutes of an action movie fight before another useless lure for conversation left his lips.

“S’cold in here.” trying to bait any conversation he could think of.

You scoffed, knowing exactly what game he was trying to play. “Get a blanket,” he quickly said, not even wanting to lose your train of thought.

Then another, and another, and another. Till he finally spilled what he really wanted- “You don’t wanna go lay down or somethin-” with a pouty lip and furrowed eyebrows. You sighed and looked over at him.

“Or something?” sarcasm filled your tone as you looked back at the screen.

Toji rolled his eyes with an exhale- another sassy trait he had learned from you.

He parted his lips with an inhale.

“Good boys wait politely, Toji.” you spat- pinched eyebrows and an avoidant gaze as he looked over to you.

“When have I ever been polite.” he murmured- barely audible and in an annoyed tone.

“When have you ever been a good boy?” you retorted, surprised he didn’t catch it the first time.

He only let out a slight hum at your declaration.

Toji didn’t really bring it up after that- and neither did you. As though the words hadn't processed in his brain till a week later.

Looking at you across a metal table at an outdoor cafe- “Did you call me a good boy the other day?” almost with a little grimace on his expression.

You pursed your lips- making Toji think you were going to deny it.

“No. I said you’re never a good boy.”

He only raised a brow at your proclamation- sucking his teeth with an inhale, “That’s not true- and you know it.” dismissing your words before taking a bite of the half sandwich you bought to share.

Takuma Ino

One of the sweetest boys I can imagine.

Always would he try to be as gentlemanly as he could- reminding himself that when it came to you, he would bend over backward had you asked.

But there would be times when it would slip his mind entirely.

Going shopping with him turned from just a quick pit stop- to an hour, then two hours.

While ordering boba in line, your hands held shopping bags on each side. Ordering your own drink before Ino ordered his.

He always found it offensive when you would even think of reaching for your wallet- so he would scoff infront of the cashier before tapping the chip of his card onto the little black screen.

“How am I supposed to pay you back?” you muttered through clenched teeth, taking a few steps to the little wait area as they prepared the bubble drinks.

He muttered something like ‘You don’t have to pay me back, what else am I here for.’ brushing you off with a little scoff.

Ino didn't even notice the bags in your hands- his brain fried from how long you had been in the overcrowded mall. He only noticed when you moved the bags to one hand and shifted your stance slightly.

He looked over at you with a soft exhale- reaching for the bags, “Baby, don't tell me you don't have a ssssuuuuper strong boyfriend to hold these for you.” taking them from your hands and watching your expression soften.

“What kinda boyfriend would let you walk around holding your own bags-” he scoffed, jokingly making fun of himself as you smiled warmly at him.

Be it the general brain splitting headache you felt at that moment- or the heartmelting warmth you felt looking at him, “You're such a good boy.” you muttered- bordering on an illegable whisper, but Ino heard it.

His eyes widened in the slightest and parted his lips at the name. “Me?” Ino whispered back, you only nodded ‘yes’ with tired eyes. Leaning in a little to you ear- too cautious for anyone to hear. “A good boy?” he whispered again. Watching the little smile on your lips widen with eager eyes.

“The goodest boy.” you whispered with a smug tone- knowing he liked being praised in general. You knew he would like the little name.

(a.n) does this count as smut? kinda a grey area me thinks. Didn't know how to tag it. (p.s) im so hungry rn and need to go spend wayyyy too much money on tile :(

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

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It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 2 ] || [ Chapter 4 ]

Pairing: Ghost x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ cw: some sexual jokes/innuendos Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 3: Simon

After doing the dishes, you moved yourself over to the living room and turned on the TV. Some rerun of an older season of Law and Order was playing.

You started watching but you found your eyes drifting back to your phone…

Against your better judgement, you clicked on the Tinder app icon again. Maybe, maybe you should swipe just a little more.

And so you did.

Today you said ‘Fuck you, Beyoncé’ and always went to the Right, to the Right.

Just as you were pondering another profile, the screen darkened with a ‘It’s a Match!’ notification, making you jump a bit, as usual.

You clicked the profile and your brow scrunched.

You didn’t remember liking this one… Though you obviously did, after all, you were liking everyone.

The only picture wasn’t even anything. It was dark and grainy and the man was wearing a black disposable face mask. If that even was him. Could just be a random picture off-Google, picked by someone who wanted to be anonymous. Not quite a catfish but close enough…

“Simon.” You said softly and dragged your finger through the screen to read his bio. For a moment you couldn’t help but smirk a little. He was sarcastic, a bit strange, but charismatic in his own way.

“Bad jokes, Bourbon, Discreet…” You mused while scanning his profile. “Tall enough.” You read aloud and couldn’t help but laugh at it. That made you feel like he was short.

Against your better judgement for the second time, you decided to send him a DM instead of waiting for him to. Something told you he wouldn’t.

you: tall enough - does that mean you’re below 6ft?

Simon: No.

Simon: Means that I have inches to spare.

you: was that a dick joke?

Simon: No.

Simon: Unless you wanted it to be.

You snorted softly under your breath. Of course he was a smart ass too…

you: ambiguous, i like it.

you: so how tall are you then?

Simon: Does it matter?

you: no. just curious.

Simon: 6ft4.

you: that feels like a lie.

Simon: I avoided putting it for a reason.

you: worried people would call you a liar?

Simon: No use. Going to be called it regardless.

you: that’s fair ig.

you: what’s a traveling consultant?

Simon: Similar to a contractor. Get brought in to help businesses all over the world.

you: what kind of businesses?

Simon: That’s need-to-know.

you: you type so formally and professionally jeez.

you: will i ever get to know?

Simon: Force of habit. Don’t text a lot.

Simon: Not if I can help it.

you: somehow i can tell.

you: what are you doing here then?

Simon: Curiosity mostly.

you: trying to see if you attract any fish? 👀

Simon: Something like that. A friend is on here. Wanted to see what all the fuss is about.

you: i see.

you: got anything yet?

Simon: No. But only created this 12 minutes ago.

you: am i your first then?

Simon: Not my first in anything, love.

Your eyes widened a bit and for some reason you found yourself getting a bit flustered, your face warming up just a bit.

you: does that mean you’ve hooked up with people through a dating app before?

Simon: Something of the sorts.

you: aw, im really not going to be your first.

Simon: That’s alright. You can come see me either way.

Simon: I’m sure you’ll find some other thing to be the first at.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you started sputtering. That came out of left field! He had gone from professional and mild-mannered to… flirty so quickly! Gulping, you tried to answer him with something coherent and funny.

you: idk what if you murder me?

Simon: I promise I won’t.

you: is that meant to be enough to convince me? 🤨

Simon: I’ll leave all my guns at home.

you: the fact you have more than one is not reassuring the way you think it is.

Simon: If it makes it any better, I wouldn’t need a gun to kill you.

Even though you don’t know this man, you can imagine that he’s laughing to himself behind his phone screen, all smug, thinking he’s funny. And, the worst part, is that he is.

you: reassuring. thanks.

Simon: Glad to be of service.

you: i think what makes it worse is that uve not got a pic of ur face.

Simon: Wouldn’t hook up with a bloke with his face covered?

you: no? are u trying to get me axe murdered? bc thats how u get axe murdered simon

Simon: LOL.

Simon: No.

you: u sure? a masked face with a mysterious job and a suspicious amount of guns… sounds like the upgraded version of ghostface… except online rather than over the phone.

Simon: I’ll take that as a compliment.

Simon: You’re funny.

Simon: I like that.

you: thanks.

Simon: Wondering if you’re that funny in real life or if you’d get all shy on me.

you: probably a mix of both.

Simon: How about we confirm that then?

Simon: Meet up with me for drinks. No pressure on time or place. You can even postpone if it comes down to it. My job is unpredictable enough so I might have to postpone too.

Your eyes widened. The first attempt at flirting from him, of inviting you for a shag, had been clearly sarcastic… But this one is genuine.

you: ill get back to u on that, is that okay?

Simon: No sweat.

Simon: And if you’re just being polite and not actually going to text me again then: This was fun. Enjoyed myself. Take care.

You bit your lip to suppress a smile when you saw his polite goodbye. He was… sweet, weirdly enough.

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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abbysbug · 14 days

Text

— Two Little Lovebirds

ellie being a cutie little loser

Pairing; Streamer!Ellie x Streamer!Reader

a/n: this is how i imagined my streamer!ellie to ask my streamer!reader out

@stegosauruswilly sooo are you and y/n dating or what?

@ladydcansteponme yeah come on ellie. we've seen what you've been posting

@minecraftergod LMAO they're definitely dating look how red her face is going

Ellie's eyes scanned over the chat, reading every message. She and you weren't dating, not yet, at least. She wanted to ask you out but couldn't find the courage.

"Uhm." She mumbled, trying to keep up with her energetic mood. She had been playing Roblox horror games for the past hour, and everything had been okay until people started to mention you.

Don't get her wrong, she adored talking about you. But having to talk about her relationship with you made her feel embarrassed. She had been talking to you for two weeks and she hadn't asked you out. That is so not lesbian of her.

@m0mmym11kers oh shit. maybe theyre not dating.

"Okay, guys. I think I'm gonna wrap it short today. Have fun at, Y/n's stream!" Ellie clicked on the button to raid your stream, sending all her viewers to your channel.

She slumped down in her chair and ran her hand on her face. God, she needed to ask you out.

A large grin spread across your face when you saw that Ellie raided you.

"Thanks for the raid, Els. Oh, wait. Is she not here?" You frowned, not seeing Ellie's familiar username pop up in chat.

@minecraftergod uh yeah ellie ended stream really randomly and i guess she didn't join

@rubberducksex she seemed kinda upset ngl maybe check on her

You opened your messages with Ellie.

You: hey, are you ok? people said you looked upset and ended stream randomly.

Ellie: when are you free?

You: like in an hour

Ellie: can i come over in an hour then?

You: yeah ofc. u ok tho?

Ellie didn't reply to you. You bit your lip in concern.

You ended the stream 30 minutes later. You were concerned about Ellie and couldn't keep your mind off of her. There was a knock on your door and you looked over to check the time. Shit, has it been an hour already?

You opened the door and smiled at the sight of Ellie. You threw your arms around her. You pulled Ellie inside, closing the door behind her.

"You okay, Ellie?" You asked, "You're quiet."

Ellie shrugged, playing with her fingers.

You frowned, taking her face in your hands. You ran your thumb over her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I wanna be your girlfriend," Ellie blurted out, immediately regretting her words. That was not how she wanted to ask.

When you didn't reply immediately, you felt Ellie started to pull away from you. But you wrapped your arms around her neck and pressed your lips against hers. Your actions shocked Ellie, but she quickly reciprocated. Her arms wrapped around your waist.

The kiss was messy but full of love. You pulled away when you started to run out of breath, and rested your forehead against hers.

"So, is that a yes?" Ellie asked.

You giggled, nodding your head. "Of course it is."

Ellie gave you a shy smile.

"Wanna tell me why you were upset now?" You questioned, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

Ellie sighed, attempting to look away from you, but you tilted her head to look at you. "I just- Everyone kept asking me if we were dating and I wanted to ask you out so bad so I just felt like a loser for not having the courage."

You frowned. "Ellie, you aren't a loser for not having the courage. I didn't have the courage either, does that make me a loser?"

"No, but-"

"Exactly. You aren't a loser."

Ellie sighed. She knew you were right. You kissed the tip of her nose and smiled.

"Feel better now?"

She nodded.

"Wait, I gotta flex to Twitter that I'm dating you." Ellie pulled her phone out and swiped to her camera app. Ellie wrapped her arm around your neck and pulled your faces together. At the last second, you turned your face, kissing Ellie on the lips.

A light blush spread across Ellie's face when you pulled away, grabbing her phone to look at the picture.

"Awe, this looks cute. Post it,"

Ellie smiled and typed out a post.

@carpetmuncherwilliams FINALLY GOT THE COURAGE AND ASKED :p WHO WANTS TO COME TO THE WEDDING!!! *1 image attached*

@buffjesse replied gay as hell DOWN WITH THE GAYS

@dinaisbetter replied jesse stfu they are literally so cute why dont u post photos of me huh??

@buffjesse replied *4 images attached*

@dinaisbetter replied r u serious THOSE ARE PICS OF ME SLEEPING WITH MY MOUTH OPEN DELETE THOSE RN

Ellie laughed at Jesse and Dina’s conversation, passing the phone to you.

“If you ever post photos of me like that, I will kick you so hard.”

Ellie held her hands up in defensive.

“I absolutely will not.”

She definitely will at some point.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #melposts #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams imagine #streamer!ellie

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wheeboo · 30 days

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hi (i love you) | xu minghao

SYNOPSIS. in which you take a trip through random glimpses of your growing relationship with minghao. PAIRING. xu minghao x gn!reader (ft. a mention of jihoon, and gyu and seokmin very briefly) GENRE. fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, established relationship, college au WARNINGS. hao is a year or two older than reader, drinking and reader getting drunk, kissing, terms of endearment at the end, the last scene is a lil suggestive WORD COUNT. 5.5k

notes: yes. this is literally just a compilation fic of them saying hi. ty zanna @slytherinshua for reading this over for me <3 there's like significant time skips between each section - just a lil sum to keep in mind cuz i dont wanna cause confusion or anything 😭😭😭 i find hao the hardest member to write for, so i hope i was able to characterize him well here!

i. "hi." (fallow is the colour of dryness to my mouth when your eyes met mine.)

There's no way in hell you're going to let yourself be lost on the first day of university.

It's embarrassing enough accidentally waking up past your alarm and having barely any time to freshen up as much as you would like, so right now, you couldn't afford another disaster.

Taking a deep breath, you double-check your schedule and the layout of the campus on your phone, trying to match it with the signs around you. The different buildings and hallways of the campus seem like a maze in of itself, and you can feel the slight panic course up your veins. A sea of students rush past you, seemingly confident in their strides towards their own classes. A defeated sigh leaves you.

All you had to do was find the stupid art hallway.

You clench your phone tighter, your iron grip practically burning a hole through the screen. The campus map app wasn't making any more sense now than it did a minute ago. Frustration stings painfully at your eyes, but begging the earth to swallow you whole wouldn't get you to class any faster, so you force yourself to scan the crowd. There's bound to be at least someone who knows where it is and is willing to help you.

And so, your eyes catch sight of the first figure appearing conveniently in your peripheral vision𑁋a boy, dressed in a casual fallow-coloured flannel with a backpack casually slung over one of his shoulders, earphones in his ears, and peering down at something on his phone just like you were doing minutes ago (though he seems to be having a much better time than you)𑁋which was somehow enough for your feet to bolt you towards as if it had a mind of its own.

You feel the root of your nerves creep up your legs and branch up to your neck as you approach him, realising at this point, there's no turning back now. You tap him lightly on the shoulder, bracing yourself for a possible eye roll or annoyed sigh.

His eyes widen in surprise before settling on you, and at that moment, something strikes hard at whatever rehearsed lines you had in your head. It was all gone in a simple snap, from a simple look from him𑁋soft yet sharp brown eyes framed by dark lashes peering at you with a hint of surprise, fluffy dark hair showering down his neck and forehead a little, a dainty pair of silver earrings glinting at his ears. His whole face seems to hold a warmth that somehow eases a bit of the knot in your chest, but certainly not the one in your throat.

You open your mouth, but all the words die on your tongue. The air hangs heavy with a sudden awkwardness, and you can practically feel your cheeks burning. Maybe you should just turn around and pretend this never happened.

But then, you notice the way his lips lift up just slightly, and it makes your stomach do a flip. He glances down at his phone for a second, takes off his earphones, then brings his attention back at you.

"Hi," is all he says, and maybe, just maybe, your heart stops a little bit. It's just a simple word, but the way he says it𑁋all soft, quiet, a tad bit hesitant𑁋makes the fabric of your shirt feel tight on your body.

You didn't notice you were clenching your fists until you force them to relax at your side, clearing your throat in the process.

"Hi," You manage back nervously, surprised at how breathless you sound. "Sorry, I-I don't mean to intrude. It's just... Do you happen to know where the art hallway is? I'm trying to find my photography class."

You watch the way he tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear, unveiling more of a view of his piercings. He gazes briefly behind you at the clusters of other students gradually spilling into different hallways, hushing the space where the two of you stood. Then he returns his attention back to you, his expression softening slightly.

"You're not that far off," he comments, seemingly amused. "I was just heading there myself too."

"Really? That's a relief. The campus map is awful and confusing, and I swear this place was designed on purpose for you to get lost in, you know? And being lost on the first day is just..." You quickly shut your mouth up from your rambling, letting your voice fade into an embarrassed chuckle instead.

Your gaze falls to the ground for a moment, and when you pick your head back up to look at him, you catch a glimpse of the small curve that he has at his lips, barely a hint of a smile playing there. It's a small detail, but suddenly it feels like the most important thing in the world, and it throws your train of thought completely off track. He doesn't seem bothered by your little habit of rambling (admittedly, because of nerves), thankfully. Instead, he lets out a soft laugh, the sound washing over you like a warm summer breeze.

You can't help but sheepishly grin back, feeling a certain lightness bloom within your chest that probably has nothing to do with the weight of your backpack suddenly seeming lighter as well.

"It's okay," he reassures, voice as quiet and gentle as his gaze. "Everyone gets lost here sometimes. I've been there."

He starts walking, and you hesitate for a second before falling into step beside him. There's a small part of you urging to get to know him, as if this was the only opportunity to do so, but all the words you want to say sound clumsy and loud compared to the easy peacefulness that surrounds him.

And honestly, it feels... nice.

The hallway he leads you in is perhaps more than just a simple art hallway, the intoxicating scent of oil paint and clay blend together in the air. Paintings by students and faculty of every style imaginable line the walls, some bursting with vibrant colours, others muted and contemplative. Sculptures poke out from odd corners, and bulletin boards are overflowed with announcements of upcoming exhibitions and workshops, even though the year just started.

"Welcome to the art hallway," he beckons you casually and welcomingly, as if only this portion of the campus was a separate entity than others.

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding in. "Thank you so much. Wow, this place is, um..." You stop yourself from continuing on, zipping your mouth shut. "I owe you. Oh, I'm Y/N, by the way. If there's anything I can𑁋"

"There's no need." He waves a hand dismissively at your offer, and for a second you feel something inside you sink, but the small hint of a smile to his face chases that feeling away just a little. "And it's Minghao... yeah. I'll see you around."

Before you can say anything more, you watch as he turns himself around and swiftly enters inside the room standing right behind him. A painting class.

(You are eight minutes late to class when a near-clear picture on the wall catches your gaze. It looks like a picture of Minghao standing next to a particularly vibrant painting of abstract art, and your heart swells just a little bit more.)

ii. "hi." (laurel is the colour of the grass that you lay on with me, gazing up at the same sky together.)

There was a time during Minghao's first year of college where a friend of his𑁋Lee Jihoon is his name𑁋called him crazy and bonkers for spending majority of his day outdoors rather than inside. Obviously, Minghao didn't exactly care, nor was it insulting in the slightest knowing Jihoon's stubbornness and tendency to stay holed up in his room buried under piles of music textbooks.

But he would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate the outdoors more than anything else, like from the way the sun kisses upon his skin, the gentle breeze that caresses his face, and the colours of nature that found him at his lowest times. Minghao thinks that's how he got into painting and art in the first place, though he didn't dwell on it too much. It all just came natural to him. He likes to think it that way𑁋that it found him instead.

The scenery of the campus is his oasis. He can do his own thing while others are walking through their own lives. He can sit outside for as long as he wants until dusk settles in and paints the sky with hues of orange and pink, or until the stars twinkle above and remind him that he's just an utter speck in the universe.

Today is no different.

Minghao finds himself sprawled out on the grass near the art building, sketchbook propped up against his bent knees, brow furrowed in concentration as he tries to capture the way the afternoon sunlight filters through the leaves of a nearby tree in his line of sight.

A low breeze runs through the air, stirring a few strands of hair across his forehead. He brushes them back absentmindedly, just as a sound cracks into the quietness.

"Hi!"

Minghao shoots his eyes up, slightly startled from the unexpected greeting. He catches sight of you slowly approaching up to him, a hesitant smile gracing your lips as you stop a few feet away.

"Hi," he replies, voice soft as he notices the way you're fiddling with something behind your back. "Vending machine did its ol' thing again?"

"Can you always read my mind?" You murmur, teasing annoyance biting at your words, but you can't contain the smile to your face either way. Maybe he can read your mind, but he's just skimming over it instead. "I can take it if you prefer to die from dehydration."

Minghao chuckles lightly. He glances down at the water bottle in your hand, then back at you, lingering for a beat longer than necessary. There's a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes, but also a hint of something𑁋maybe surprise, mischief, or perhaps a touch of shyness.

(You don't catch the way he subconsciously pushes the other water bottle he had stashed earlier deeper into his backpack.)

"Thanks." He accepts the water bottle from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a second, and takes a quick sip to cool his slightly parched throat.

Then he sets the water bottle down beside him, patting the grass next to him invitingly.

Without a word, you take a deep breath and lower yourself down onto the grass next to him. You catch the scent of the fresh paint lingering on his clothes and blending with the earthy aroma of the grass beneath you. The sunlight catches on the side of his face, highlighting some strands of hair flying in the breeze and the silver earrings reflecting in his ears.

There's a small groan that leaves you when you get yourself to lay fully down on the grass, using your backpack as a makeshift pillow. Minghao just peers in your direction curiously, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watches you settle in.

"You know," You sigh, letting out a contented breath as you spread your arms out a little, fixing your eyes up towards the sky. "This is actually really nice, hanging outside and all, but I am so out of shape. You pick the worst spots."

Minghao's smile widens a fraction at your words. He shifts his own gaze to the sky, observing as the clouds drift lazily overhead, fingertips kneading at the laurel-coloured grass below. The soft yet vibrant green reminds him of a new set of paints he recently bought.

"I think you'll survive lying on a patch of grass, Y/N."

"Not if I get up and there's a goddamn earthworm crawling in my ear, Hao."

"Just don't fall asleep, and you'll live."

You let out a giggle, though you wouldn't be lying if you said that the warmth hitting your body was making you feel just the tiniest bit of drowsy. "No promises there."

The silence that lingers between you and Minghao isn't uncomfortable, but it's not exactly filled with chatter either. It's a comfortable silence, with the distant sounds of other students laughing like white noise and the occasional rustle of a breeze flying past your ears.

It's always like this when you're here together, a quiet that feels more familiar than the few months you've known him. Whether it's your little study sessions at the library, or when you hang out with him after hours in his painting class, it's familiar being around him. The thought settles around you like a well-worn blanket, a comfort you didn't know you craved until you found it here.

You glance over back at Minghao, who seems to be focused back on his sketchbook. He taps his pencil against his bottom lip in concentration. There's a small smudge of charcoal on his nose that you pinpoint, just hardly noticeable, but it makes you want to reach out and brush it away with your thumb.

The bold thought makes your stomach churn.

"Lay down with me, Hao."

The words leave you before you can stop them, surprising even yourself. A blush creeps up your neck, warming your cheeks as you continue watching Minghao. He's still focused on his sketchbook, but the tapping of his pencil against his lip has ceased. He looks down at you, eyes widening slightly in surprise before softening into a gentle smile.

"Lay down?" he asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

"Y-Yeah," You stammer, suddenly wishing you'd phrased it differently. "I mean, if you want. The sky looks better from here, you know?"

Minghao just tilts his head to the side as if in contemplation, before closing his sketchbook and shifting his position. He tosses his backpack right next to yours, laying himself down on the grass and stretching his body in relief. The grass crinkles softly beneath him, his arm briefly brushing against yours, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body as he settles in, peering up at the sky with you.

He's painted the sky many times, but for some reason, it feels different looking at it right now, and he isn't entirely sure why.

"What's the weirdest colour you've painted with?"

The sudden question makes Minghao sit up slightly, leaning on his elbow to face you better. The corners of his lips are pulled up in the hint of a smirk.

"Goose turd green."

His eyes detail the way your face contorts in slight disgust, before nothing but laughter tumbles out of you, and Minghao thinks he'd never get tired of hearing that sound.

iii. "hi." (vermilion is the colour that seeps through my cheeks when the alcohol beats me and i think about you.)

"Y/N𑁋jeez, how much did they drink tonight?"

"I don't even know𑁋woah, hey! Hold them steady, wait..."

"I'll take them back to their place," Minghao tells the other two boys struggling to keep you from falling over in their hold.

Mingyu and Seokmin stare at him for a second, exchanging a glance with each other before guiding you into Minghao's hold carefully. Minghao secures an arm around your waist, loosely at first, before tightening instantly because you're just about to fall out of his grip. He bids the other guys goodbye, then sets off with you towards your dorm.

"Are you alright?" he asks, even though he knows the answer already. "I told you before that you should know your limits."

You giggle, a wobbly, off-key sound. "Oh, I feel peachy, thank you so much."

Minghao just sighs, shaking his head slightly as he adjusts his hold on you, making sure you're steady on your feet.

The walk back to your dorm is painfully slow. Streetlights cast an orange glow on the sidewalk, painting long shadows that seem to dance alongside you. You lean heavily against Minghao, head hanging down to the ground, your footsteps unsteady. The world seems to tilt and sway with every giggle that escapes you.

Your vision is a bit blurry when your dorm comes into sight. Relief washes over you, and you lean even heavier into Minghao, practically melting into him by the time you reach your door and it swings open.

He steps you inside, moving you past the shoe rack by the entrance and towards your bed, and you flop down on the plush mattress with a low groan, nearly dragging down Minghao on top of you.

He catches himself just in time, a hand landing on the mattress beside you with a soft thud, and suddenly he's hovering above you, his breath catching with the sudden closeness of his body pressed up against yours. However, it just makes a laugh bubble out of your throat from deep within your chest, and with half-lidded eyes, you find yourself staring dazedly up at him.

"Wow, hiiii, you're like..." You drawl your words and tap aimlessly at his shoulder. "You're like... so pretty, you know? Have I told you that before?"

Heat creeps up Minghao's neck. He blinks down at you, eyes trailing over your face and cheeks which were stained a soft shade of vermilion from all the alcohol earlier. A small, surprised airy laugh escapes his lips.

He opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. And even after pulling away from you, you continue, voice thick with inebriation.

"And your smile? Oh, don't even get me started," You slur, a goofy grin plastered on your face. "Those big, cute eyes you have? They, like, make the whole world look... sparkly."

"Y/N, you need𑁋"

"And whenev... whenever you paint," You continue, voice trailing off away. The world seems to be spinning a little slower now, the grin to your face faltering for a moment, replaced by a furrowed brow as you try to focus on the thought. "Yeah, whenever you paint... you get this... this really focused look on your face. Like the world fades away and all that's left is the canvas. It's kind of... hot."

Minghao could simply only stare at you. He knows he should probably get you settled into bed and leave, but his feet seem rooted to the floor below. His gaze flickers up and down your face, then back up to your eyes, searching for any sign of what you just said being a joke. But all he sees is a genuine, albeit slightly hazy and inebriated, fondness.

"You think so?" he finally manages to ask.

"Yeah," You mumble knowingly as if instinctive, eyelids drooping closed a little further. "Makes you look, uh... determined. Like you could𑁋like you could paint the stars out of the sky or something."

Minghao cowers his head down for a second, before looking back up at you, crossing his arms together bemusedly. "Do you want me to paint the stars for you?"

You give a dreamy nod. In your cloudy mind, the idea sounds incredibly romantic, like something out of a dream.

"I think..." You start once again. "that would really make me like you even more."

Minghao feels his lips twitch, somewhat hopeful yet also reluctant, before letting out another sigh.

"You need to go to bed." He walks back over and helps pull the covers over you. "I'll leave you some water and meds to take in the morning, okay?"

A pang of disappointment shoots through you as he pulls away, a sleepy pout crossing over your features. You watch him with heavy eyelids, the room tilting ever so slightly with each passing beat of your heart.

"Wait," You murmur, grabbing weakly at his sleeve.

Minghao turns back around. You're looking at him, eyes a little more focused now, a hint of a playful smile on your lips, and shooting him a look that means business.

"Don't forget the stars, okay, mister?"

iv. "hi." (pewter is the colour of the clouds when the earth can't hold it in much longer, and the words burst all at once.)

It hits you on a random Wednesday near the end of the month during an exam on English Romanticism that you simply can't stand this anymore.

You're avoiding Minghao, purposely attending more study sessions that your classmates offer and taking up more shifts at the small café across from campus that you applied for a while ago to make some extra bucks. You know you're avoiding him, and he probably knows it too, and it's all your fault𑁋you're letting him get away and slip through the cracks between your fingers.

Minghao's art had been selected for a prestigious exhibition out of town, and he was set to leave at the end of the month for this internship just as summer is starting, and the thought of him being gone brings a hollow ache to your chest. It's becoming unbearable each passing day, each millisecond that passes knowing you've been so stupidly immature to push him away when he's quite literally been the best thing that has happened to you.

You may never understand how Xu Minghao𑁋this sophisticated, well-mannered, and endlessly talented artist𑁋had managed to wriggle his way into your heart so effortlessly, but there he was, occupying every crevice and corner with his gentle smiles and soft laughter that seem to flip the world over. He was just this sentient, living breathing form of peace that you can’t seem to let go of.

When another boom of thunder shatters outside, you think, screw this.

Screw avoiding him. This wasn't how this story was supposed to end.

You're quick to shove your belongings back in your bag the moment your class ends. The rain has calmed down a little when you step outside, which only seems to fuel the determination within you.

With a deep breath, you pull your jacket tighter against your body, and start to spring across campus. The rain might be getting heavier with each passing minute, but you don't care. All you care about is getting to Minghao before the storm within you bursts too.

Reaching his dorm building, you're merely a shivering mess, hair damp and plastered to your forehead and clothes clinging uncomfortably to your skin. You barely have the breath to push open the heavy doors, collapsing against them for a moment to catch your breath.

But just as you're about to push open the door, a figure blocks your way, and you peer up to see Minghao standing in front of you. There's an umbrella clutched in his hand, and a puzzled look etches across his features when he takes sight of your disheveled appearance in front of him. You could only gaze at him.

"Hi," You say breathlessly, as if you've been holding on to the singular word for dear life.

Minghao just blinks a few times, unsure if he's looking at you as if you were crazy or if he's just imagining you.

"Hi," he finally responds, voice all gentle and slightly hesitant.

You glance down at the umbrella in his hand. "Are you going somewhere?"

Minghao opens his mouth to respond, also looking down at the umbrella in his hands as if magically appeared there out of thin air, then a bashful look crosses his face.

"I forgot some supplies back in class, so I thought I'd grab them before the storm gets any worse," he explains somewhat lamely, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "But I𑁋Are you... are you okay?"

You give a loose nod, then shake your head dismissively right afterwards. Gosh, you're losing it.

Minghao clears his throat. "What are you doing out here in the rain? You're going to get sick𑁋"

"You know I-I like you, right?" The words stumble clumsily over your tongue, shattering whatever fragile tension was building up between you two. "And you probably knew that already, to be honest, because you always seem to know me better than I know myself. But the thought of you leaving just... scared me, and I panicked and pushed you away."

A lump forms in your throat. Minghao's expression is practically unreadable in front of you. There's a mix of surprise, a hint of something that could be hurt, and something else you can't exactly decipher.

You let out a dry chuckle, embarrassment crawling up your face but you try to ignore it as much as you can.

"I-I know I sound crazy right now," You say, forcing a smile that seems more like a grimace. "But I... I couldn't let you leave without knowing how I feel. So yeah. I like you. A lot. Maybe more than that. I don't know. It sort of scares me, honestly."

You wait a few moments, simply standing there in the falling rain while anticipating just anything from the boy standing in front of you as if the world had come to a pause. His silence stretches suffocatingly long, nothing but a cloud swirling in those beautiful eyes of his.

Then he looks down at the umbrella in his hand for a moment, then back at you, his gaze lingering on your soaked clothes and shivering form. And just before you can spiral into a wave of panic, Minghao steps forward close to you. Without a word, he unfurls the umbrella and holds it over your head, tilting it slightly to ensure you're fully covered from the rain.

"Let's get you out of this rain," he says finally, low and calm. "You're freezing."

"I..." You start, then stop, giving a muted nod. "Okay."

Minghao leads you back inside his dorm building and up to his room, the warmth seeping overwhelmingly into your bones. He ushers you into his space, the door swinging shut with a soft click behind you.

You've been inside Minghao's room before, but it feels different now, more intimate somehow. The air hangs heavy as you awkwardly perch yourself on the edge of his bed, careful not to let the water dripping off you land on his sheets, and you watch as he quietly makes his way to his closet and disappears behind the hanging clothes. A moment later, he emerges with a soft, oversized hoodie and a towel in hand.

"Here." He holds out the towel and hoodie towards you. "Dry yourself off and change out of those clothes."

The softness of the towel against your skin is the equivalent to luxury as you meticulously pat down your hair and face. You shoot glances at Minghao across the room, seeing him busy himself at his desk, back turned to you, a low hum escaping his lips.

You slip on the oversized hoodie, the familiar scent of Minghao washing over you and instantly relaxing your jittery nerves. The sleeves hang past your fingertips, the material engulfing you in a comforting warmth.

"Feeling a little better?" Minghao asks, turning around to face you after a few minutes. You hardly notice the way his gaze sweeps over your form, lingering on the way the hoodie basically swallows you.

A shy, self-conscious look crosses your features. "Yeah, um... Thanks."

Minghao returns the smile, though there's a hint of something else in his eyes𑁋perhaps relief or maybe even a touch of fondness. "Always."

That particular silence passes again as you both sit in his room, the only sound the soft patter of rain against the window. You fidget nervously with the sleeves of his hoodie.

Then, you let out a sigh. "Look, Hao𑁋"

"Do you want anything to drink?"

The offer zips your mouth back up, leaving your unfinished words hanging in the air. Is he... trying to brush away everything that has just happened in the last fifteen minutes? All just like that? You nearly want to scoff at the thought, but you bite at your bottom lip instead, a pang of disappointment settling in your chest.

"Honestly?" You lay your hands flat on your lap. "I'd kill for a hot chocolate right now."

Minghao just chuckles softly. "Okay," Then another long, considerable pause. "Are you working at the café later on?"

The thought of working right now makes you cringe internally. "No, thank goodness. My shift actually got swapped with someone else. Lucky break, I guess."

The corners of Minghao's mouth lift up subtly. He glances back out the window, seeing that the rain had become much lighter and cleared up significantly, revealing the sky in a palette of muted greys. His gaze returns to you, a thoughtful expression painting his features.

"Let's go then," he asserts firmly, rising up to his feet.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "What? Right now? To the café?"

"Mhm."

"But you can't𑁋we can't just𑁋"

"It's a date," Minghao affirms, cutting your words off promptly. "My treat."

His words catch you off-guard, and for a moment, you're at a loss for words. Your mouth hangs down to the ground, warmth crawling up the cheeks just like the hot chocolate you desperately crave right now. You can feel your heart pounding furiously out of your chest and whatever tension coiling in your stomach dissipating away.

"A... date?" You squeak out, voice coming out small and weak.

Minghao's lips purse together in a thin line. "Unless you have other plans𑁋"

"Oh no, no, no," You blurt out, finding yourself already breathless for no reason at all, struggling to keep the giddy grin forming on your face at bay. "A date sounds perfect, actually."

Relief floods over Minghao's features. He lets out a little giggle, the kind that always makes your insides do a little happy flip.

"Good," he responds simply. "I'm glad."

"Do I get to pay next time?" You ask teasingly as you stand up. "If there is a next time, at least."

Nothing but amusement dances in his eyes.

"We'll see about that."

v. "hi." (calamine is the colour staining your cheeks and your lips against my ear.)

Minghao's lips are on yours before you have the opportunity to breathe in the air of relief of the hotel room.

It's not hard for your body to melt into him instinctively, the kiss soft yet desperate, tender yet urgent. You find your fingers kneading at the silky material of the suit that he wore, and his hand coming to rest on your lower back. Both of your feet move in mere unison together before you feel the edge of the bed nudge the back of your knee.

When the two of you pull back for a minute to breathe, all you can do is faintly chuckle.

"You act like you haven't seen me in years," You tease, letting a hand come to toy with his tie. "Did you miss me that much?"

Minghao's gaze only flickers between your eyes, your lips, and down the outfit that seems to hug your body just perfectly, before settling back up to your face. His own face is close enough to yours that you swear you could pinpoint the flecks of stardust in his irises. He's simply staring at you with nothing but adoration, his gaze so intense like he's trying to memorise every little detail etched on your face, even if he's already done so many times. He's painted stars on your skin with his fingertips, lips, whispered words, and his heart.

And then he's kissing you again, more softly and slower this time, the weight of his body following your own as you fall back down on the bed behind.

Missing you is more than just an understatement. Being separated from you felt like this physical piece of him was missing from his chest. His art had been reaching the rightful hands of museums abroad just as he deserves, and you had gotten used to him travelling for days on end to attend exhibitions and workshops.

You jumped on the first opportunity to be able to visit him. And now, with you in his arms and your lips pressed against his, Minghao feels like he's finally whole again.

His mouth pulls away from the sweet spot to your neck, trailing a soft path back up to your lips, giving you a small kiss before pulling back to look at you. You hear the way his breath hitches in his throat, the feeling of his hand coming to interlock with yours at your side, the metal of the ring on his finger meeting your skin.

You peer up at him longingly, lovingly, a tiny smile playing at the corners of your lips.

"Hi," You whisper, a breathless laugh escaping you.

Minghao's gaze softens even further, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand as he leans back down.

"Hi, dearest," he murmurs back affectionately, adjusting himself so that his mouth is near your ear, barely grazing against the shell as he whispers, "You're beautiful."

You could only giggle as he retreats himself away slightly, but you tug him by the tie again to bring him back down. "Yeah? What else?"

There's a thoughtful look that crosses over his features, his cheeks painted an ethereal shade of calamine pink, mirroring the flush of warmth that spreads across your own face. You've always grown accustomed to Minghao's fairly quiet nature, however it doesn't take much to read over even the most imperceptible shifts in his expressions. Whenever words seem to be too shy or hesitant to come out, the stars in his eyes speak for him.

Minghao just lowers himself even more, the ghost of his lips hardly brushing back against yours.

"I love you."

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kissforyouu · 8 months

Text

pairing : jungook x reader

genre : smut , angst

warnings : against the car , in the car , oral sex ( f recieving ) , spanking , jealousy , ft. lil bit of taehyung ;) , toxic relationship , uses of words like "slut" (during sex) , exhibitionism (kinda) , teasing , unprotected sex

a/n : idk what this is but hope u enjoy LOL. and dont ask me why the name of this is woof woof woof idk either umm

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・． .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

Me and him were always on and off. Jeon Jungkook, I mean. Not the man I was currently on top of right now. That's Kim Taehyung. He was hot, very hot, and the fact that he was Jungkook's best friend made it even hotter. Taehyung knew me and Jungkook were something, whatever we called it. But at this moment, he did not give a single fuck.

His head was thrown back as his hands roamed under the silk material of my black mini dress, all over my ass. My clothed core was pressed against his crotch, grinding slowly. Hands tangled in Taehyung's messy locs, his tongue licks over the spot right under my ear. He nibbles and sucks on the spot gently, taking his time.

I continued moving my hips, begging for some more friction. I wanted something, but not skin to skin contact. Not with Taehyung. I had other plans.

A small moan slips past my lips as I grab Taehyung's wrist before placing it on my right breast. Taehyung's eyes flicker with excitement, his hands immediately squeezing both of my breasts tight. I could tell he was excited, to touch me and to hold me, too bad you weren't going to let him get his way. Didn't think Jungkook's so called best friend would be this unloyal.

I let out a small whine purposely into Taehyung's ear, pretending to be feeling something, as my hand slide into his pocket to pull out his phone. Laying back a bit, I look at Taehyung with puppy eyes, signalling him to unlock his phone. He raises his eyebrow at me, a little confused.

"Wan' to give Jungkook a show..." I tilt my head to the side, giving him my most seductive smile. Taehyung lets out a devilish laugh as he unlocks the phone. Men are so easy.

I place a kiss on his cheek as a thank you, my eyes scanning through his messenger app in search of Jungkook's chat. I find it, the corner of my lip curving into a smirk. I click on the small camera icon at the bottom of the chat, then pressing record.

Looking at the camera with my eyes big and glossy and the prettiest smile on my face, I then look down to Taehyung, who's face was now smothered in my tits. Cracking up my laugh, which I know Jungkook loves, I push Taehyung's face further into my tits. He wasn't even doing anything, why's he so boring.

You pretend to like it, arching my back more, fake moans escaping my mouth as I grind myself onto him. To make my man who'll be seeing this even madder, I make sure to moan Taehyung's name.

"Mmm, Taehyung!" it sounded so fake but that didn't matter. You knew Jungkook would recognise how fake that was anyway. All I wanted to do was to make Jungkook mad. For him to take me home after, then fuck the living shit out of me, then tell me he loves me and make up. And for then, not that I want it, but for this cycle to repeat because one of us just have to fuck up each time. But I didn't care, not one bit, I'd go back to him each and every time. And I know he would too.

Without wasting more time, I click send. It didn't take a second for Jungkook to view the message. Internally, I was giggling at sight of the two blue checkmarks. I almost forgot about the man beneath me.

you : [video]

jkkk🤘🏻: ???

rlly y/n? im omw, he better not be on ur fucking cunt when i get there.

My eyes beam at his reply. He's on his way. Please come quickly and get me away from this man. You let out a groan, way too bored. He was still on my tits, just touching them all over.

About 5 minutes of the same thing — yes, 5. You wonder if he's ever had a woman on his bed before — Jungkook comes crashing in. We were at a party, he knew where we were because you guess Taehyung must've told him where he'd be tonight, definitely not expecting to have me grinding on him. You watch Jungkook's eyes scan the party trying to find us, with your head resting on top of Taehyung's shoulders as he did whatever he did.

Jungkook looked so good. He had his shoulder length hair down, a black wife beater on, his pants hung low rise showing off his calvin klein boxers which I love with a black belt to hold it all together. And to add the cherry on top, he also had a thin silver chain dangling from his neck. Not just any chain, it was the I had gifted him. He was a walking snack, no wonder every woman turned their heads to look at him wherever he went. Too bad, he's mine.

Jungkook's eyes land on mine, then on the man I was on. His eyebrows furrowed, oh he was mad, his tongue poked his cheek as he walked towards us. In no time, he hand was on my arm, pulling me off of Taehyung.

"Really, Taehyung? My girl, out of everyone?" My girl. I felt butterflies in my stomach. I hear him yelling at Taehyung a few more words, but they all sound muffled to me. The only thing I could focus on was "my girl". If only he made it official. We've been boyfriend and girlfriend so many times, breaking up and getting back together. I don't care. I'd still do it. To be with him.

After spitting his last few words out, he turns his head to look at me, eyebrows still furrowed and mad.

"And you. Could've just fucking called me. Had to fuck my best friend to get my attention? Huh?"

He looked so mad, I loved it.

Jungkook's grip on my hand never leaves as he storms down through the crowd with me, leaving Taehyung all alone and frustrated. I grip onto his bicep as we walk down the stairs.

I sigh, breaking the silence.

"I missed you"

"Yeah, fucking right, Y/n. That's why you went and seduced my best friend?"

I sigh, releasing his arm.

"I missed you a lot, Jungkook. I'm sorry about before. I just — I don't know, okay? Sometimes I get so insecure about you with other girls. I don't know how you are, considering how we're always on and off and never stable."

"Oh, yeah? So that makes it okay for you to grind your ass on Taehyung?!" He raises his voice at me. We were literally yelling at eachother in the car park.

"JUNGKOOK! I don't want Taehyung, I want YOU! I don't know why I did that but everything I do is because of you, and FOR YOU because I want you, and-and I don't want you to b-be with some other girl! I'm sorry, okay? Fuck, I got jealous and I stormed out of your house and today I got with Taehyung because I wanted to make you jealous and I wanted you to come pick me and take me home and make love to me and-and then we'd go back to the usual! As always! Like we always do! We always break up and then—"

I was shut up by him crashing his lips onto mine, pushing me against his mercedes. The kiss was rough and hungry, he had both of my arms pinned onto the car. He then pulls out,

"You ramble way too much sometimes, baby"

His thumb skims past my lower lip, eyes shifting from my lips to my eyes. He kisses me again, taking my lower lip between his lips as he gently sucks and bites on them. I melt into his kisses, my body almost sliding down the car but he holds me up with his arms that are holding onto my waist. We make out for about 1 more minute before I pull away, desperately in need of air.

He stares at me with a smirk before I try to catch my breath, his finger twirling one of my curls.

I calm my breathing down, finally, then look at him with a smile. "You good?" He says, teasingly, his knee coming in between my legs. I nod my head, feeling his knee glide up my thigh slowly. I let my clothed pussy sit on his knee, my hands traveling up to my breasts to squeeze them through the material. I nod, my eyes drowsy. Jungkook's knee begins to rub my clit slowly, creating some friction. But not enough.

I begin to grind onto his knee as he lets out a laugh.

"This is what you wanted? Hm?" He lightly slaps my cheek. I nod my head repeatedly. I let out a shaking breath, fastening my pace on his knee.

"Yeah, go on, get yourself off on my knee like the slut you are" his fingers caress my collarbones, slowly gliding them down the small dip of my top to highlight my breasts, his fingers now disappearing in between them. His eyes were filled were lust, tongue poking his cheek, his fingers hook onto the top of my dress before pulling down enough to expose my breasts. I swear I saw his eyes sparkle for a good two seconds. That just made me wetter.

Unknowingly, a moan slip past my lip as I find myself reaching my high. This was so fucking embarrassing in a way, cumming from just grinding on his knee. But it didn't matter, it was him.

"Aah, ah!" I rub my clit over my panties a few several times, finally feeling myself release. It felt like a sticky mess down there. My chest rises up and down as I let out a few breaths out. Shit, I just came. Suddenly, I feel the embarrassment kicking in. My face flushed in red, I try to look away to avoid the gaze of the man whom I just got off of.

"Too embarrassed now? Look at yourself, baby, you're fucking worn out from just my knee" He laughs. It almost feels mocking.

Jungkook's hands glide up my thighs, hooking onto the bottom lace of my dress as he lifts it upto my waist. Right now, my mini dress was just hiked up to my waist from both ends, leaving me almost completely naked.

The smirk in his face never disappears as Jungkook gets down on his knees. His eyes fixed on my wet clothing. Hands now on the waistband of the lace material, he pulls them down upto my knees. My bare pussy all wet and out for him, Jungkook wastes absolutely no time before diving in with a long stripe.

Fuck, finally.

My back arches, hand immediately flying to grip onto his long hair. His tongue licks my bud in a circular motion, then up and down my folds. I feel him place a few kisses all over, making me even wetter. Jungkook releases a breath, then a small hum and he dives back into my pussy. His eyes were closed, displaying his pretty lashes, his mouth skillfully working down there. I moan out his name, thrusting my hips forwards onto his feet. Jungkook groans into my pussy, sending vibrations down me.

"F-fuck...so good! Baby, don't stop" My head was thrown back against his car, tits out, back arched, pussy getting eaten. It was quite the view. Not to mention, we were still at the car park. Anyone could run into us anytime.

Jungkook pulls away for a moment just to spit on my pussy, and before it could dribble down my legs, his tongue catches it as he licks his trail up, back to my clit before he circles my sensitive bud again. He rubs it in the form of an 8, his hand now in between my legs, middle finger rubbing my folds. I feel and hear him hum once again, right before his finger enters me slowly, making me let out a gasp.

I quickly cover my mouth with my hands, lowering my head down to look at the man in between my legs, eating me out and fingering me so good.

I feel his big arms on my thighs, nails digging right into the flesh as they part out my legs even more. Jungkook raises his head up to look at me, letting me get a clear sight of his face fully covered in my slick as his tongue and fingers continue to work on me so good.

His teeth suddenly tug onto my bud, pulling it a bit before releasing it. Shit, he's driving me crazy.

I roll my eyes back, back arching even more. A long whine escapes my mouth as I look down at Jungkook who was now sucking hickeys onto my thighs while his fingers worked on me.

Fuck, I wish I could have him in between my legs like this every single day.

A few seconds later, a gasp leaves my mouth along with a series of whines and moans. Shit, I really was a mess. I was cumming, again, this time all over his mouth and chin. Some even dripped down to the floor and onto his tank top. I stared down at him. I couldn't help but think of how fucking hot he looked like this. Hair messed up, face flushed red and my juices all over him.

"Jungkook, so good..." My chest was rising up and down trying to catch my breath, but I could feel Jungkook's gaze fixed on nothing but my breasts. Next thing, he stands up, his hand digging inside his front pocket to pull out his car key. Impatiently, he unlocks the car.

"Get in the car, baby"

I don't bother replying, already knowing what's happening. A small giggle slips past my lips as I open the car door, stepping inside. I make sure he gets a full view of my ass out in the air and legs spread. In return, I get a spank on my right cheek and a laugh.

I laugh back, making myself comfortable as I just lay there, ass up face down at the back of the car. I didn't need him to tell me twice.

"You know me so well, Y/n." His hand leaves another spank on my right cheek. I hear him get in the car, then close the door. Thankfully, the car was big enough for the both of us to be moving like this.

Jungkook takes in the sight in front of him, his hands palming my cheeks. He then spreads them apart, spitting right in between. He groans as he watches it dribble down my cheeks. His fingers come in contact with my pussy, spreading my juices around so good. I let out small moans, feeling my body relax.

Jungkook's fingers leave a small pat on it before retrieving his fingers back. Right after, I hear the sound of his belt getting removed. The thought of dick inside me itself could make me cum just now. I was so so ready to cum, for the third round.

I turn my head around took at him as he pulls down his pants, then his boxers, and finally releasing his dick out. And god, was he big. He pulls it out then gives it a few pumps. I wiggle my ass, running out of patience.

"Jungkook, I want you inside me now. Please." I emphasise on the 'now'.

"Alright, baby. Anything for you" his lips leave a small kiss on my asscheek. My breathing halts for a second at the feeling of the tip of his dick rubbing against my folds, so teasingly slow.

"Mm, I'll go crazy..." I feel my eyes getting drowsy at the feeling.

"Me too, sweetheart, me too." His other hand glides up my back, caressing it gently. Jungkook pushes in his tip, just a little, making me let out a long whine. He's teasing me!

"Fuck you! Just fuck me! Please!" I almost let out a cry.

Jungkook mocks me once again with a laugh, his tip now a little bit more in. Fuck, why's he doing this. I groan, thinking of taking things into my own matter. My eyes roll back as I bounce back on his dick.

"Shit!" He was now fully inside me, and I couldn't name a better feeling. I grip onto the leather of the seat, slowly gliding myself up and down his dick. Shit, he was so perfect.

"Mmm, so fucking desperate for this dick? That's what you are now?" His palms lay flat on my ass cheeks, supporting me as I bounce backwards on his dick. I nod my head repeatedly as an answer, shouting out small yesses.

My moans and Jungkook's low groans were all we could hear, and the faint sound of his dick going in and out of my heat.

A few more thrusts later, I feel myself getting tired.

"Fuck..." a groan leaves my mouth, my body instantly falling down to the seat. Sex is a whole workout.

"Tired already?" His fingers brush away a few strands of my hair that's sticked to my forehead. I nod, finding myself relaxing to his touch.

Jungkook's smirk grows wider, he flips me onto my back, his body now hovering over me. He looked so majestic, tall and beautiful. My eyes travel from his broad muscular shoulders, down to his arms — big, tattooed and veins popping out —, his sharp v-line, then upwards to his abs glistening with sweat. Eyes traveling lower, I take the image of his dick in, standing tall and proud. Fuck, I think I got wetter.

Unknowingly, my lips part and a small whimper goes out. Jungkook raises an eyebrow, that smug look on his face never leaving.

I know I'm boosting his ego so much right now, for sure.

Jungkook grabs my hand, starting to trail kisses slowly from my fingers to my arm. He kisses my arm, then along my shoulder blade, his other hand pulling my thighs apart. My mouth leaving out a few whimpers, I play with my breasts at the sight of his hand now pumping his dick again. One last tug on my nipple, Jungkook thrusts his dick inside me again, both of us letting out gasps.

He starts to thrust in and out, slowly. I whine loudly, eyes closed and lips apart.

"Baby, fuck— you're so wet!" Jungkook breathes out, fastening his pace. I was so wet that we could hear the sound of it. I bite my lower lip, both hands gripping onto his shoulders. His pace increases more and more, same way my nails dig deep into his shoulders. I know for fact that he'll see nail marks all over his skin next morning. His hips crash into mine repeatedly, balls slapping against my ass cheeks. Fuck, is there anything better than this?

"Jungkook, you're so good, you're making me feel so good~" I moan out, gasping and grunting in the middle. His head bops repeatedly, eyebrows raised, face filled with pleasure.

A few more powerful thrusts later, I feel my high reaching. "Shit, I'm gonna cum" I shout, his thumb on my clit, rubbing fast — adding some extra friction. "Fuck, you're gonna cream my dick nice? Yeah?" He lands a few spanks on my ass, never slowing down his pace. Jungkook's eyes glue onto my tits as they bounce up and down due to his fast pace. I clench around him, his low groans and grunts being his respond as my clenching never stops.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—" a series of curses leave my lips, eyes rolling back I feel myself orgasm all over him. My cum leaks out, making a mess when his hips clash with ass repeatedly. We were so sticky and sweaty. The smell of sex was taking over.

Jungkook arches his neck back, thrusting in a few times more before he pulls out, tip leaking with cum. He jerks himself off onto my stomach, a bit landing on my tits even. His cum spurts out, cum all over my upper body.

He sighs, his chest rising up and down, same as me. I mewl, eyes closed as I try to catch my breath.

"Fuuuuck," Jungkook groans, "that was hot." I laugh a little at his comment, lightly nodding my head.

He smiles at me before reaching his arm out to the front of the car, then grabbing a pack of tissues. Jungkook returns, pulling out a few tissues and then wiping my chest with it. Then down there as well, I relax at the feeling.

He then throws the dirty tissue away, locking eyes with me.

I crawl onto his lap, my arms engulfing his neck. Jungkook hums, wrapping his arms around my waist. My head on his bare chest, I relax to his little caresses. If only we could lay like this forever. There was a small silence between us. I could tell that we both were thinking about what I had said before, right before we started get all over eachother.

"Jungkook." I decide to break the silence.

"Yeah?" He answers immediately.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

I pull away to look at him, his big eyes already looking at me.

"I'm sorry for making you jealous with Taehyung. I shouldn't have done that." I admit.

"And I'm sorry for going out with Aeri before. I should've told you, baby, fuck, but I promise we didn't do anything."

He says, sincerely.

"Okay." I nod.

"Can we—can we please get back together?"

"We never broke up. You just stormed out mad." He says.

I press my lips tightly, feeling guilty.

"Jungkook", I press the side of my cheek onto his chest again.

"Do you still love me?"

He cracks a small laugh, "Baby, what are you asking? I've always loved you."

"I think we have issues." The words leave in a small, almost inaudible voice. I don't want to admit to it.

"We always fight, breakup, then we make eachother jealous, then we make love, then we make up—then it repeats." I murmer.

Jungkook sighs, I could tell he was admitting to what I was saying.

"Give us one more chance, baby. Let's work this out. I promise you this time. I'll be everything you need."

"You're already everything I need." I whisper.

"I love you, Y/n"

"I love you more, Jungkook"

#jungkook fanfic #smut #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #jungkook x oc

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macfrog · 4 months

Text

the sweetest con cowboy like me chapter fifteen

well. this is it. we made it, kids. thank you so, so much for reading for all this time. for all your patience, and kindness, and loyalty. i will carry this pair, their story, and all of your love for them with me forever. love you guys. xx

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: every cowboy deserves his ride off into the sunset.

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), lotsa guilt from reader, dreamy love sequence & mention of unprotected piv/creampie, more greys anatomy spoilers, reader's dad is either Bald or has a Receding Hairline (you choose), more sex - this time reader and joel sixty-nine, face sitting, oral (f and m receiving), more (inferred) unprotected piv, making dirty, hot love ALLAT, cursing, a little smut n a lotta fluff n a droplet of angst at the end

word count: 10.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡

“How the fuck did this take you three minutes? Three?”

“I’m telling you. I’m a genius.”

You snort. “Shut up. You only passed Math ‘cause you were fooling around with that nerd – Thomas? Was it Thomas?”

“Timothy. And you don’t need math to do a sudoku puzzle, loser. You just need brains. Logic.” Anna taps two fingers against her temple, tilting her head.

“Logic,” you murmur, shaking your head.

Sal’s is quiet today. He’s out of town for his father-in-law’s funeral and made the genius decision to leave the two of you in charge. Since opening at nine, you’ve had four customers. The to-do list left for you was completed by ten, and since then, you’ve been hunched over your phone at the cash register, messing around on some puzzle app Anna made you download.

It's a Wednesday. Nothing exciting ever happens on Wednesdays.

Anna’s behind you, tearing apart and flattening the cardboard boxes you spent all morning emptying. “That level,” she clicks her chewing gum wetly between her teeth, scent of mint over your shoulder, “that ain’t even the hardest one. Ooh, no, babe. Three goes –”

“Shh!” You bat her arm away, curving your hand over your phone screen. She snorts and wanders off through the back, wad of cardboard under her arm.

Anna wasn’t your closest friend in high school, and you sure didn’t stay much in touch past the odd Facebook post update when you left. But working with her, and her dad being your dad’s buddy – she’s sort of become one of those people you just can’t shake.

Like a stray puppy. Or…an annoying hangnail.

She’s nice enough – talks a lot of crap sometimes, but she cares for you. You’d go as far as saying you two have grown pretty close since you came home. Still, the acidic sting of resentment sits on your tongue, anytime you think of her involvement in the unravelling of your little lie. Think of your dad calling hers, Hank asking her where you were.

Think of the fact that, if she hadn’t been honest with him – I don’t know where she is, Dad – nothing would’ve gone wrong.

That’s not fair. If you’d never touched Joel in the first place, nothing would’ve gone wrong.

It’s just – she had a hand in pushing the first domino.

The bell above the door jingles and you lift your eyes from tiny numbers and blank squares to meet a familiar pair of hazel. An Alanis Morissette T-shirt under a denim jacket. She tucks her thick, soft hair behind her ears and smiles, then skips around the counter and links her hands at your tummy; her ear flat against the nape of your neck.

“Why so clingy?” you ask, and Sarah straightens up.

“Just excited to spend some time with my favorite person. That allowed?”

Your eyes scan her up and down as she leans against the counter, stealing a gummy from a jar beside the register. “Been staying with you for nearly three weeks now, you ain’t sick of me yet?”

She shakes her head, jaw chewing, cheeks swollen with a grin. “Are you done yet? I wanna make sure we get good seats.”

“We will,” you assure her. “It’s only, like, three p.m.”

“But it’s Barbie,” she says, “and I wanna get some snacks before we head in.” She holds the decapitated gummy worm up, eyebrows high, before pulling it between her teeth until it snaps. She drags the withered red tail over her tongue.

“That thing you just mauled,” you gesture to the masticated shape in her fingers, “candy. Snacks. Just take some of that.”

“You won’t even buy your date movie theater candy? Damn. Mom’s a cheapskate. Wish I could say my dad’s a lucky guy.”

You shove her off, disguising your laugh with a shake of your head. “You are on thin ice, I’m not even kidding.”

Sarah’s laughing, reaching for another worm. “You know what that sounds like?”

“Hm?”

“What you just said.”

“What’s it sound like, Sarah Miller?”

“Something a mom would say.”

“Alright,” you stand, “get out. Get outta my store.”

The door opens when you point to it, Texan heat sweeping in to swarm the one rickety fan you have in here. The brass bell trembles, and beneath it, a man in a tucked shirt and jeans, glum face and tired eyes.

You blink at him and he blinks back, and no words are spoken between you, but your dad understands to move, to keep walking – and you understand to let him.

“Shoot,” Sarah whispers, twisting her gummy around her finger. “That was awkward.”

Three weeks of staying with them – Sarah and Joel – also means three weeks of zero contact with your dad. The most you’ve heard from – or, rather, about him is that, last week, Joel bumped into Hank at the gas station, and the old man mentioned that he and your dad had grabbed a beer the night before.

What’d he say? you asked Joel, dragging a dish towel around the rim of a glass.

He shrugged, flicking his hands dry over the sink. Said the Rangers aren’t doin’ too good. I said, Yeah, that’s cause a’ –

No, Joel. What did he say about me ‘n my dad?

He waited a second to let the offense of your interruption soak in. Took the towel from your hand, replaced the glass on the draining board. Nothing, he said, I don’t think he knows.

It sat with you the entire night. The three of you watched a movie, occupying either side of Joel’s couch, though you’re sure you don’t remember a word of it. The image of him sat center-stage in your mind until you pulled yourself against Joel’s body in bed that night. Sat in his recliner, flicking through TV channels, the only sounds in the house that of Ice Road Truckers, the ticking of the kitchen clock, and his own fucking breathing.

Alone. Not even Hank to talk to about – well.

You’ve done your best not to think about him. And it works, most days, when you’re with Joel. Helps to go do stuff: ride shotgun while he picks up supplies for work or grabs groceries. Helps to play pretend like his house is yours, too. Tidying when he’s not home, lighting candles and sinking into a bubble bath for him to find you in when he finishes. Helps to be at Sal’s, with Anna. Sudoku and her fucking Tinder account to keep you both occupied.

Most days, you forget to consider the lonely shape of your dad at all – but that seems to hurt all the more. Like forgetting to tend to an open wound; instead, letting the infection blister and bubble so that, when you do bump it again, the pain feels sharper. Hissing at you, poison seeping from flesh.

His showing up, waltzing straight into the store – feels less like a bump, and more like a pair of hands diving straight into the gash, tearing it wide open again. Blood and poison gushing all over the checkered floor.

Anna materializes between two aisles, hands on her hips when she stands behind you. “Y’all still not really talkin’?” she asks.

You and Sarah shake your heads. The three of you watch the shape of your dad’s skull over the shelves, bobbing from bay to bay. Door hinges to fence paint. He painted the fence last summer. He doesn’t need fucking fence paint.

“Nope,” you reply. “’s been, what, two and a half weeks now?”

“Yeah,” Anna mutters, the slope of sympathy in her voice. “My dad’s been talkin’ to him about it. They’ve spoken, like, almost every night on the phone.”

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, head falling into your hands. “Are you serious?”

“Not about you and Joel. Just about the fight.”

Your jaw slowly slackens, eyes thinning as your gaze slides over to your friend, a saddened expression on her face.

Sarah nods, like an accessory sat on the dash of a car. Bobbing bobbing bobbing, until her brows drop and she turns to you, finally realizing. “Wait, what?”

Anna blinks between the two of you. “What?” she asks, lips pressing together.

“You know?” Sarah asks, glaring at her.

Anna snorts. Neither of you break. She quickly quietens and clears her throat, bending to stuff more cardboard under her arm. “Well…” She sucks in a deep breath. “At rodeo night, when you left your phone on the table, me ‘n Kara wanted to leave a bunch of selfies for you to find later. But when I went to grab your phone, you had a text from him. Joel. Something about someone winning you over like he did, or something. I can’t remember. But that was the first thing.”

Sarah’s face sours at the mention of her dad’s flirty text, scoffing as she swipes another gummy from the jar. “Real fuckin’ subtle, Dad,” she murmurs.

You sharpen your gaze at Anna, blurring the brown curls and low brows from your peripheral. “Uhuh…?”

“Then, there was the lying to your dad about where you were. That Monday – you said you were at mine. You weren’t. Your dad called my dad to ask, ‘n my dad asked me why the hell you’d lie. I figured, What a weird coincidence, right?”

You slip off your stool, legs feeling more liquid than bone. “Oh, Jesus…”

“But then…then, I saw how you were when he called on the way to Frank’s. In the car. You were…fucking weird. And then Joel punched that dude – that basically confirmed it. I don’t think either of your dads would do that for me. It felt…it felt personal. He took your hand ‘n dragged you outta there, and it felt like…somethin’ else.”

You’re leaning against the counter, head in your hands. Struggling to even listen to her piece it all together. Were you this fucking obvious, the whole time?

Anna answers for you. “Yeah,” she says, nodding, “I didn’t catch two fucking boyfriends cheating on me, and not pick up some detective skills, babe.”

You stand straight, composure slowly building over shame. “And your dad doesn’t know? My –” you flick your head across the store, lowering your voice, “– my dad hasn’t told him?”

A laugh spurts from somewhere deep in her chest. “Hell, no. Are you tryna give him a second heart attack? No. He just thinks you were somewhere you didn’t want your dad to know – a boy’s or something. Which – well, I guess you were.”

You nod, half-appreciation, half-resignation. Alright. Now shut up about it, would you?

“But listen,” Anna says, apparently not as good at mindreading as she is at secret-revealing, “y’all gotta work on being sneaky. You��re, like, really bad at it.”

“Yeah,” you sniff, “thanks, Anna.”

You grip the edge of the counter and try to draw your eye away from your dad; a little angry that he’s here, and yet, a little more thankful that you’ve had at least a tiny glimpse of him. Desperate for him to come over, to acknowledge your mutual existence in the same room, and yet – petrified that he does.

He keeps his back to you, though you notice him turning every so often, looking at you from his peripheral. Nope – your black shirt and blue jeans are still behind the counter. He turns back to the shelf.

“Hi, sweetie.” A woman in a pink blouse approaches the counter. She lays down a couple pairs of plyers and you ring her up, asking if she found everything okay. Choking a little when you inhale the scent of her perfume.

“Beautiful day for you to be in here workin’, huh?” Her rosy cheeks fill as she hands you the cash.

Oh, yeah. It’s a beautiful day to be stuck selling plyers to pink women in pink blouses smelling of pink perfume, while my dad – still reeling from the revelation that I’ve been sleeping with his best friend, by the way – pretends to peruse the store.

“I’m almost done,” you reply, blunt enough to deflate her expression only a little, sliding the paper bag stamped Sal’s back across the counter.

She nods in thanks and slinks off, suffocating aroma following her. And like a magician, when she disappears off to the side, your dad stands in her wake. A few feet from you, keeping his distance, watching carefully before he dares to move. Waiting for your go-ahead.

When you lift your chin, beckoning him forward, Anna takes Sarah’s arm and yanks her away, shoving some shredded boxes into her arms. “You wanna help me?” she asks the nosy Miller, tossing something of an alarmed glance back at you and your dad.

There’s a funny feeling behind your eyes when he steps up, empty hand resting hesitantly on the counter. “She coverin’ up the smell of a dead body or som’?” he asks.

The air pushes from your lungs, a laugh barreling with it. Your hands clasp on the surface opposite his. A scorch of white heat at the nape of your neck. “Very vibrant, huh?”

“Very.” He clears his throat, shakes his head a little, and takes a deep breath. “I figured this might be as good a place as any to find you. I didn’t want you to think I was…cornering you, or anything, if I showed up at Joel’s.”

“I wouldn’t – I mean, maybe. But, y’know…this is fine.” Your arms cross defensively, the baggy material of Joel’s shirt wrapping snug around you.

Your dad seems to know. Evidence being that it’s you, in a shirt all too big – a shirt he’d likely see his best friend in, too. It forces your arms tighter, sucking in the scent of Joel to combat the dizzying feeling of nerves.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he says eventually, fingers drumming awkwardly. “I just wanted to know you were fine.”

“I am fine. I promise. Just – working a lot.”

He nods, looking down to his feet. Twists the toe of his boot into the linoleum.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, too,” you offer, the words fluid and spilling from one to the next – something forceful in their nature.

Your dad’s eyes lift at the same time that his cheeks do. Relief. “Thanks, kiddo. I actually – I was hopin’ that maybe we could talk. If you’re free. I don’t know what time you get off today.”

“I finish in ten minutes,” you say, and hope seems to paint across his face – washing away instantly when you add, “but I’m going to the movies with Sarah.”

He’s nodding again, eyes fixed back on his boots. “Right, right.”

“…But maybe once we’re done I can swing by?”

“Oh, well – I’m workin’ late again. I’ll be out by the time…Yeah. Sorry, hon.”

“That’s okay.”

“Late one again tonight.”

“This, uh – what’s his name again? Kel–?”

“Kelman, yeah. Yeah. How ‘bout I call you tomorrow ‘n we can work somethin’ out? You and Sarah, you enjoy your night.”

You lean back from the counter, slowly more confident in your ability to hold yourself upright. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

His lips press together in a flat attempt at a smile. “I’ll leave you to it. You mind if I…give you a hug?”

And then you’re the one awkwardly, forcedly smiling. Your teeth gritting behind taut lips. “Not at all,” you whisper, and wander carefully around the counter to where he stands.

He opens his arms and pulls you against his chest, your head tilting to rest your ear on his shoulder. You hook your arms under his, feeling his wrists crossing at your spine. Like two statues, two figures of stone fixing their crumbling bodies in an embrace, suddenly disjointed and ill-fitting. Your heart hurts beneath layers of rock, swelling in attempt to reach for his, shrinking back crestfallen when he feels too far.

He kisses the side of your head, pulls away, and taps your cheek once. “You know,” he says, letting you withdraw from his grasp, “I really miss you.”

You nod. “Miss you, too.”

“Let’s talk soon, alright?”

“Yeah.”

And then he’s leaving, drifting back out into the summer sun, rock disintegrating as the light catches him again. More human, less monster-under-your-bed. He’s just your dad again, just that swaying, bumbling man who used to sprinkle rainbow flakes over your ice cream and double-knot your laces.

The shadows of Sarah and Anna appear at your elbows, the three of you watching your dad sink into his car. You still feel made of rock, splitting somewhere down the middle as you stare at his figure.

“Well?” Sarah asks.

He turns right out of the parking lot, disappears behind a hedgerow.

“Yeah,” you reply, turning in a daze. “We’re gonna…gonna talk.”

“That’s good, right? That sounds…promising.”

You shrug. “I guess.”

Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, drawing your attention to her kind eyes and infectious smile. “We should probably get goin’,” she says, and you agree.

“What movie are you seeing?” Anna asks, filling your spot behind the counter as you turn, making for the back of the store.

“Barbie,” Sarah tells her.

“Nice. She paying?”

“Obviously. Mom duties.”

You kick the door closed on their giggles.

Two days pass without a word from your dad. No text, no call, no visit to Sal’s when you’re on shift the following day. By Monday, you’ve convinced yourself that the entire thing was a dream, a hallucination conjured up by your imagination in attempt to rid you of some of the guilt still chewing at your heart. Bat it out of your brain, like swatting the rear end of a wild animal let loose indoors.

Guilt which is only remedied, only soothed by Joel. By the feeling which overcomes your chest when you look at him – lungs faltering, heart leaping. The peace of falling asleep in his safe embrace, the heat from his body enough to keep you comfortable all night, and then waking up tangled in his sheets – the smell of bacon and eggs twirling through the house, the distant sound of his humming drawing you downstairs to his side.

Late nights on the porch, watching the sun bleed heavily into the sky. Your ankles in his lap, a guitar over his thigh. Thumb gentle on the strings, soft timbre of song lulling you to some place far from reality: the same rosy, dreamlike state you’ve mostly occupied since he dragged you through his front door, kicked your shoes and all of your worries to the side, and made you forget that anything bad had ever happened.

The most comfortable you’ve ever felt in your life, the most loved – a world where your every word is heard and weighed, rolling around Joel’s palms and slotting carefully into his back pocket. A world where his lips on your neck as you make dinner, where the crook of his arm catching you as you pass by, is all normal. Where I love you and I love you, too become the last words your sleepy ears hear at night, right before you sink into a shared sleep.

All of it becoming as natural as the pale moon switching for her golden sister at dawn. As instinctive as breathing.

“Have you ever made love to anyone?” you ask him one night, the aftershock of an orgasm still soaking into your skin.

Joel pauses, hips slowing between yours. “Yeah,” after a couple beats, “sure.”

“What’s it feel like?” you ask, honestly. Combing his dark hair through your fingers. “I’ve never…No one’s ever…”

“Baby,” he says. “We’ve done it. I’ve done it to you.”

Your body tenses and then melts around him. One blink and suddenly the world softens, seems to bow into the background – the only sharp object Joel, the twinkle in his eye piercing through the haze like blinking white stars in thick, dark clouds.

You whisper, “Can you do it again? So I can feel what it’s like?”

He pushes himself up, one elbow planted by your ear, the other hand lifting your thigh. Hooking it over his waist, lowering his arm again to cage you under his body. He nudges your chin with his nose, lifting it to line your lips with his, hold every part of your body as close to his as he can.

Deeper, in every sense of the word. Slow, hard. Eyes on you the entire time, watching the way your face contorts and your jaw slackens, holding the shape of your head in his hands, swallowing his own moans and grunts to make space between you for yours.

“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” he says, and by instinct, your eyes roll forward, focusing or half-focusing on the slick hair at his forehead, the red flush climbing his neck, seeping into the skin under his beard. “You feel it? Feel where I’m goin’?”

And yeah, you whine, you do feel it. Feel him dragging you further away from this world and into the next – somewhere a plain away, somewhere new and different to anything you’ve ever known before. Where physicality is a language, a fluid conversation between the melding of his body and yours; where there are a million words swirling around his pupils, hypnotizing and entrancing and drawing you in until you’re tumbling headfirst into the inky pools.

Where I love you sounds like the groan Joel can’t hold back, feels like the pulsing flood as he snaps between your legs. Where making love is as simple as the squeeze of his hand around yours; the shove of his plate over the kitchen table, offering you the last bite of grilled cheese or simply admitting that it was yours before he’d even taken the first. That addictive laugh of his when you stall the fucking truck for the fifth time: You asked me to teach you, baby, I’m tryna teach you. Foot on the gas, c’mon. You got it. That’s it – now, slow. Slower. Try to feel it. No, really feel it.

Feel it. Really, try to feel it. Can you feel it? Do you know the difference yet? The difference between everyone who was before, and the one who is now? Do you finally get it?

“I feel it,” you cry out, and his frame holds yours together as you fall apart.

It feels like – you.

How did I ever know anything before I knew you?

“That one’s nice,” Joel says, his voice jumping the short distance between his lips and your ear.

You tilt your head, body moving with his when he lifts his hand to swipe through some more of the images. The spacious living room, newly refurbed kitchen, the view of downtown Los Angeles.

He adjusts the blanket draped over your legs. “Washer dryer, walk-in closet,” and then, leaning in closer, whispers, “a balcony. That’s cool.”

“Hm,” you turn to face him, your body shelled by his in the corner of his couch, “I bet you like the balcony, cowboy.”

He smiles plainly in response, squeezing your nose between two knuckles. Yeah. Lots you can do with a balcony.

A sharp gasp from across the room pierces the sweet moment. You and Joel turn in its direction, its owner wide-eyed and blinking at the TV.

“Wait a second,” Sarah yelps. “George is the John Doe?” She gasps again when Meredith announces the same news to her friends onscreen. “Shut – the fuck – up!”

“Language,” Joel clips, chest rumbling between your shoulder blades.

“Oh, like you didn’t have the exact same reaction. George is the…Oh, that sucks. Are you kidding me?” She fishes her phone from the waves of blanket surrounding her, thumbs rapidly typing, eyes shooting from screen to screen.

You snort, turning back to your own phone in your hand, when a text appears at the top of the screen.

Dad: Hey kiddo. Sorry to keep you waiting, work been hectic. Off the rest of today if you’re free to come over.

Your thumb latches onto the message, holding it for Joel to read, too, before letting it disappear off into your notifications.

He tightens his hold on you, burying his nose into the cotton of his own hoodie over your shoulders. His breath pushes heavy and thoughtful across the material. “Still seems as calm as the other day.”

“Too calm,” you admit, “it’s freaking me out.”

“What can he do, you know? You’re here, he’s there. Your dad ain’t an idiot, baby. He knows stayin’ angry about it’s only gonna push you further away.”

“Sure made ‘im feel like an idiot…”

Joel catches the comment and pockets it before it gathers enough weight to bruise. “Well,” he clears his throat, “it’s up to you. I ain’t letting you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Mhm,” you reply, and wait for more words to fall to your tongue. An answer, a response. A decision that you know you don’t feel equipped or even rightful to make.

“Do you want to go talk to him?” Joel asks.

“I…I want to make things right. I wanna fix it.”

“Okay. And will talking to him do that?”

You turn to face him, frowning. “I don’t fucking know,” you mutter. “Will it?”

He smiles sympathetically. “Wish I knew, darlin’. Would it help if I came? Sat outside in the truck, waited for you? It gets too much, you decide you wanna leave – we leave.”

“You ain’t scared to be near him again?”

He gulps back a laugh, Adam’s apple bobbing awkwardly before he allows himself to answer. “Only thing scary about your dad is the sunlight reflectin’ off his damn head. No, I ain’t scared.”

You study him a minute longer, eyes roaming from the lips you could sketch every score of from memory, the beard you’re sure has forever altered your prints from the number of times you’ve run your fingers over the bristles. The eyes which know every secret, every whisper, every thought behind your own.

You sigh, smiling dumbly as he wraps his arms tighter around you. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Joel pulls up by the curb, parking politely at the end of your driveway rather than alongside your dad’s car, like he usually would. Like he used to.

You crane your head, looking past the shape of him to survey the unassuming house. Quiet, still. No sign of hurricane or earthquake, no tremors of rage or words like rocks raining down on the truck roof. Your thumb plunges into the buckle of your seatbelt, the webbing whipping over your shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay?” Joel asks, watching your fingers lift to the door handle.

“Mhm,” you reply, distant. “’s just my dad, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

His eyebrows lift, agreeing. He takes your hand in his and holds it to his lips. “Whatever it is,” he mumbles into your fingers, “if it happens, you come straight back out here, you hear? I ain’t moving.”

The urge to stay exactly where you are and let him carry you off back to his place overwhelms you for a brief second. To stay in the safety of the truck cabin, stay within touching distance of Joel. And as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone. Overcome by the memory of that stony hug in Sal’s, the vacant, lonely eyes boring into late-night TV.

A sharp chap over your shoulder shocks you back to life. You twist in your seat, looking down at a face wrinkled by curiosity and wisdom, sheen of lipstick curved in a mischievous grin. You roll the window down, mirroring her smile.

“Joel Miller,” Rita calls, lowering her ring-adorned fist and pointing over to her car. “Help me with these groceries.”

“Afternoon to you, too, Rita,” he calls back, and she raises two thin, penciled eyebrows. His sigh trickles into a chuckle as he snaps the door open, leaning into you. “I ain’t moving,” he mutters, swinging out of the truck.

“Sure looks like you’re movin’,” you call back, letting Rita pull on your door to let you out.

“How are you, darlin’?” she asks. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

You hop down beside her, helping her tug the shawl around her arms back over her shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve, uh…I’ve been busy.”

She nods, and then her eyes drift to somewhere behind you. “They go in the kitchen, son.” She points to her house. “I’ll come help you unpack ‘em.”

Joel’s face twists, eyes wide, hands outstretched. You swallow back a laugh when he looks to you, an almost teenage expression which asks, You seein’ this? as he turns back to the Nissan.

“I better go,” Rita says then, giving your arms one last squeeze. “You take care, now. Tell your dad I’m askin’ after ‘im.”

“I will, Rita.” You turn on your heel and saunter around Joel’s truck, giving him one last twirl as he hoists two bags under his muscled arms, rolling his eyes as you spin.

You pull the weight of yourself up your drive, passing past versions of yourself as you near the front door. She’s stumbling towards her dad’s car, a bucket of soapy water sloshing around between her knees. She’s sat on the curb, waiting for Joel’s truck to roll up, praying she never hears another Marty Robbins song again.

She’s naïve, still. Knows no better, knows no worse. Chasing a high, chasing the thrill of being caught and the thrill of nobody ever knowing. A relationship built entirely on lies and deceit. A love woven with dark threads of shame and anger, a tattered mess in one corner where the edges fray and loosen.

And you think: you’ve never felt more jealous of anybody your whole life.

The front door clicks open easily, like the building welcomes you home with a relieved sigh. You follow sunlight into the hallway, feeling it easier to walk through than before – less dense, less suffocating. Less guilty. An honest thief, back to return the bleeding heart she dragged out the door with her.

Secrets like shards of broken glass on the floor, debris from that day. And as if he hears the crunch of your footsteps, your dad appears at the bottom of the hall.

“Hi, hon.”

Eyes wide with a misplaced shock, you say, “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“’m good.”

“Good. Come in, come through.” He beckons you forward, a smile only half-forced on his lips. “You want a drink or anything?”

You follow him into the kitchen, politely accepting a glass of water when he offers it.

He turns with two steady palms on the island, watching as you drag a chair free and sit at the table. “How’s Joel?” he asks, swallowing roughly.

The words come delayed, your open mouth lying in wait. Your body selfishly trying to hoard the information, protective the second the image of that six-foot, two-hundred-pound man crosses your mind. “He’s fine. He’s out front.”

It sounds like a warning, though you don’t mean for it to. Just conversation. He’s helping Rita with her groceries. She’s asking after you, by the way. But your dad seems to sense the natural amber tone of it – the sparking of a flame, daring to catch. He’s waiting for this to go south.

He nods, accepting the fact of it. His own failed attempt to separate the two of you only drove you closer together. Only made you want Joel more.

But then he’s nearing you again, pulling out the chair opposite yours. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, settling with a sigh. “Glad we’re…we’re talkin’ again, at least.”

Your head angles. “Are we?”

His body jerks, flinching from the sting of the question. “Well,” his head wobbles, jowls quivering, “I sure hope so. I was takin’ it as a good sign that you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you repeat, “but that doesn’t mean I’m staying.”

“No, I know. I know. Joel’s out front, ‘n all that.” He looks down at his hands, clasped in his lap. Holds his tongue behind his front teeth, waiting for the next turn of conversation.

You lean forward, elbows on the table, softening your voice. “Dad?” you say, and he looks up. “This whole entire thing – I think…I think we oughta try and understand each other, a little better. Hear each other out.”

“I am tryin’, hon. I’m really tryin’. You dealt me an awful lot to hear out ‘n understand.”

You rock back, sinking against the hard chair. Tracing the wood grains in the table, nails digging between. Shame coiling like a snake beneath your tongue, taking up too much space in your mouth. Its venom dripping between your teeth, acrid and sour; tendons in your neck jumping with the bitterness of your dad’s tone.

He sighs. “Be honest with me a second.”

“Huh?”

He waits a beat, watching you carefully. Opens his mouth, pauses, and then speaks. “Who instigated it?”

Your finger pushes harder into the surface. Digging new divots. “Um…kinda both of us. Was sort of a two-way thing from the get-go.”

His lips twist, almost imperceptible. He looks behind you to the patio outside. You can’t read what’s in his eyes. It makes you say more, say things you reckon you’ll regret later – but something to fill the silence between you. Something to let him sink his teeth into.

“There was flirting. Lotta flirting. And then it…it just sort of snowballed.”

“Snowballed.” He looks uncomfortable, lifting his hands to cup over his face. “I just didn’t take him as the type,” he says, muffled into his palms.

“As what type?”

He drops his hands, hitting his thighs with a slap, and looks you dead in the eye. Sad, almost. “Arthur Kennedy type.”

“He’s not.”

You say it instinctively. Your ears hear it at the same time your dad does. He looks at you blankly.

“He’s not,” you repeat, a little looser. Less hasty. “Look,” you sigh, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but…everything that we ever did, I wanted to do. I already told you. There ain’t nothing we did that I didn’t ask him to. I swear to you.”

You think back to the cookout, how angry Joel was at the thought of Arthur Kennedy hanging over you. How pissed he’d be, hearing your dad line him up against that old leather boot of a man. Comparing, contrasting. Here’s how you measure up, son. How much of a phantom Arthur Kennedy has been, your whole life, and how much of a sanctuary Joel is in comparison.

Your stomach twists at the thought. A tight knot, wound by a desperation to clear the name of a man whose worst offense was doing exactly what your dad would’ve told him to: leave.

“This whole thing,” you go on, “it’s a mess, alright? It’s – totally fucked. And we shouldn’t’ve lied, shouldn’t’ve been keeping things from you, but then…what did you expect?”

Your dad cuts in like a bullet: “I expect the two of you not to do what you were doin’.”

“No, I know that. But we did it, right? It’s done now. I meant, did you really want us to sit you down in the living room ‘n say, Hey, Dad – guess what?”

He grimaces at the thought.

“Didn’t think so. We didn’t even know what it was. We had no idea what it’d turn into. But you gotta hear me out: it wasn’t just…some fling, or whatever you’re thinkin’. I swear, Dad, it wasn’t.”

He still doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t lift his stare from the table. You feel like a little kid, desperate to make him love you again. Desperate to make him listen. The space between you fills with the bored tick tick tick of the kitchen clock. Each second hurting a little more than the last.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry I let you down, but…I’m not sorry that I did it. If I could go back, knowing everything I know – I’d do it all over again.”

The words roll across the table to him like billiards. You lean back again, watching them as they rattle from his side to yours – your sentence delivered back into your ears. You nod, a sure thought in your mind.

I’d do it all over again. All the covering, all the hiding. The aching, the wishing and wanting. Staring at Joel’s empty hand, dying to slot yours into it. Dying to put any part of yourself near him; your head under his chin, your arms linked around his waist. Knowing you two would feel, knowing everyone else would see, just how perfectly you fit together.

The chasing your own tails: Did you lie well enough? Do they suspect anything? Did we leave any evidence? Disturbed sheets, a collar still upturned. Can they hear us? Have they noticed we’re missing? We’re always fucking missing.

You’d do it all over again. You know what it cost, now, sat directly opposite the price. His polite smiles like veneers over rotten teeth. The tremble in his lip when he opens his mouth to speak.

And it was worth it. Joel. He was worth it all, in the end.

All over again.

“Do you know that every time I look at you, there are…probably four versions that I see?”

You frown. Did he hear what you just said? All ov–? “What?”

Your dad laughs to himself. “When you walk outta that door, I see a little pink backpack over your shoulders. Gym bag in your hand, maybe. I see missin’ front teeth, I see those little clip-on earrings you used to love so much.

“And – and when you’re mad at me, when we fight, I see you at fourteen. Growing pains, y’know? I still remember you slamming your bedroom door in my face, all ‘cause I wouldn’t let you go to that girl Molly’s birthday party.” He looks up, smiling at your perplexed expression.

“I don’t even…remember that, hardly.”

“Long time ago now. My point is,” he continues, “you’re twenty-three. You’re grown. And I just can’t figure out how to make those other versions…grow with you. You still feel like my kid. Still that little girl with the pink backpack.”

“But,” you clear your throat, trying to swipe her from your own memory, “I’m not. I’m not her anymore, Dad. And I think maybe you gotta give me the space to be someone different, now.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding. “I know, I know. I just didn’t think this new version of you would…y’know. Be with Joel, ‘n all. That is something I did not see comin’.”

“You think I did?” You spit a laugh. “If you told me when I came home that this is what was waiting for me…that I was gonna fall…”

Your teeth close around the sentence, dropping your dad’s eye. But it’s too late.

He stares back at you like the sun. “…Fall in love with ‘im?”

And you cower. You wince, almost. The last secret. The last thing he doesn’t know. “I don’t…I don’t know, I –”

“You love him. You do, don’t you?”

Your thumbs run circles around one another, fingers locking until your knuckles hurt. “I don’t know,” you mumble, wishing for the tenth time since you sat down that Joel was beside you, in front of you, around you.

“’s what Anna seems to reckon.”

Your eyes flit up. “Anna?”

He hums. “She is her father’s daughter. A damn meddler. She called here, last night.”

“Oh, Jesus,” you groan, head falling into your hands. “Ignore her, please. Ignore all of it. She doesn’t –”

He holds a palm up. “Now, hold on. You don’t even know what it was she said.”

You huff a sigh, twisting your hand in the air. Go on.

“She reckons you do love him. Reckons he loves you back. More, if that’s even possible, she said. Told me all about the way he stepped in front a’ that boy at Frank’s. About your face when he picked you up from rodeo night, how ecstatic you were. The difference she sees in you.”

“Difference,” you scoff, glancing out to the backyard. “What difference?”

“Same difference I see, probably. Same difference Bill said he saw, too: you’re happier. Even I can’t deny it, hon. It’s damn hard – you never make nothin’ easy on your old man – but…but I am willing to try.”

The hurt begins to slowly fizzle away. Cooling, washing from your skin like foamy waves. Curiosity left to shine through.

“You may not understand this ‘til you have kids of your own – if you have kids of your own – but there ain’t a thing in this world that I love more than I love you. And when you love somethin’ that much, you’ll do anything to stop it from getting hurt. Anything. That’s all I want you to know.”

A silence falls between you, thoughtful and waiting. The clock’s ticking grows sharper again. It seems to consider the same as you: there should be more to this. More to be said, to be convinced. More yelling, even.

But you arrive at the same conclusion, at near enough the same time: there is nothing more. Cards flat on the table, eyes pouring all over them. To question it, to second-guess any of it, would be to tempt fate.

“Anyway,” your dad sits forward, clasping his hands on the table, “tell me what’s goin’ on. What’s been happening in your world?”

You shrug. A little, shy thing. “Work. Been hanging with Sarah a lot. And I, uh, I had a job interview last week.”

“Oh, yeah? Where?”

You shift awkwardly in your chair. “For, uh…that one in LA. They called to offer it a couple days ago.”

A smile pulls across his lips. Growing, growing, growing until he’s grinning back at you. Pride, little bit of surprise. Whole lot of amusement and joy. “You take it?” he asks, figuring he knows the answer already.

“Not yet,” you reply. “Think I’m going to, though. ‘s too good to say no.”

He lifts his eyebrows in agreement, looking down at his hands. Shoulders lurch some under the weight of your news. “There goes that little backpack,” he mutters to himself, and you smirk.

“Can’t hold her back forever.”

“I never had a hold on her in the first place. You were walkin’ on outta that door the minute you found your own two feet.”

You snort. “Good! Good for me. Let me go out into the big ol’ world; let me go fuck it all up ‘n come home for dinner once I’m done.”

“I intend to,” your dad says, nodding along to every passionate word you say. And then he asks, “How’s Joel feelin’ about it all? About LA?”

Your shoulder jerks in a half-shrug. “He’s fine, I guess. Says he’ll miss me, but then – we haven’t exactly had the most typical relationship up until now. Survived a lot I reckon would break any normal couple…”

It’s the first time you think you’ve ever said it. Couple. You’ve thought of it – flicked through the words you might use to describe him. Your boyfriend, your partner. None of them seem to fit exactly who he is to you. None of them strong enough to carry the weight of what’s shared between you. He’s Joel. He’s your Joel. Nothing will ever come close.

Your dad hears it, too. The newness of it. The crisp shape of the word, not yet thawed to this new world. Your tongue still learning how to pronounce it, how to pair it with the image of Joel.

“Guess he can fly out ‘n visit whenever, right?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, “and I’ll be back here, too. Christmas ‘n all.”

Your dad smiles. Relieved, assured. Light slowly returning to his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” your chest swells, “so Joel says. I trust ‘im.”

You both quieten, sitting back in your chairs. What once felt like a room ablaze, flames tearing the skin from your body as you dragged your heels through it – now feels like a gentle warmth. Waves wrought with enough power and force to destroy you, now seeping off with the change of the tide. Bumps on the horizon.

“Speaking of,” you say, making to stand, “I should probably get goin’.”

“Yeah. Yeah, hon.” Your dad follows, arm on your shoulder as he walks you down the hall.

The sun intrudes, tosses herself into your arms as you pull the front door open. In her golden-rayed wake sits that dark truck, same as always. The same dark tee, the same dark-speckled-gray hair. Arms folded, stood against the body, waiting. Eyes on the house, on your figure as you step down onto the doormat. Joel straightens when your dad follows you out, chest sucking in a ragged breath.

They look at one another, and that’s about it. Something of a nod from Joel – not quite returned by your dad. You figure that might take some time to come back around. And that’s okay. You can make peace with it.

You turn back. Your dad’s looking down at you, hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

“You know,” you take a deep breath, “the only times he’s ever hurt me, are the times he’s left. The times I haven’t had him around.”

And then you step back, the magnet in your chest telling you it’s time to return to its partner.

In high school, your English teacher tasked the class with writing a short story. Any genre you wanted, any word count up to two thousand. The boys mostly dicked around, wrote action-packed, blood-and-guts garbage. One girl wrote something you’re sure you’d seen in a Hallmark movie before.

But you – you spent two weeks straight, writing. Awake until all hours of the night, hunched over your laptop, sunbathing in the blue hue of an open document. Fingers hammering rapidly into your keyboard.

A man and a woman meet in Central Park. She – hair the color of rust, spilling down her shoulders and lifting at the ends, twisting around the fingers of the blustery wind. A red glow around her third finger where gold once lived. Sat on a bench, alone. Hiding, perhaps. And he – sharp suit and tie, clean-shaven, a steel-blue gaze that might cut glass. Missing the city traffic by taking a walk through the park on his way home. Fleeing, perhaps.

He notices her trench coat first. Bright red, a poppy swaying in the breeze. A little hopeless, a solemn wilt to it. The quickly dampening fire of her hair in the rain, the opaque sheen of polish chipping from her nails. And he thinks he recognizes the constellation of freckles painted across her cheeks. Thinks he might’ve mapped them, once, in some kind of past-life.

She looks up and realizes she recognizes the cut of his gaze. Piercing through her, splitting her in two. Thinks she might’ve felt it before, the opening of her soul to someone who looked just like him – a little more baby-faced, a little more spirited. In some kind of past-life, too.

She stands, and he slows, and they meet somewhere in the middle. Words exchanged; body heat transferred through hugs. Is that really you? You look so different. It’s been years. He doesn’t ask about the lack of jewelry on her third finger. She doesn’t ask about the gray circles beneath his eyes. Just, You wanna grab a coffee? and, Yeah. Yeah, I do.

They sit at the window, watch the yellow taxis and the black umbrellas and the trembling traffic lights. They talk about life then, life now, and silently agree to forget about the part in the middle. They look at each other the same way they must have before they lost one another, before life and love and everything else got between them.

They agree to meet again in a week. They swear that they will not fall back in love.

They know as well as each other that they’re really promising to do just that.

Love – twisted and turned over and over, until it’s a different shape altogether. We started as one thing, and we watched it shift into something completely different. Clay in the potter’s hands. Didn’t you think it might fall apart? There was a moment I thought the heat of the kiln might break us. I’m glad it didn’t. I’m glad we’re made of tough stuff.

I’m glad I found you again, in that park. The pissing rain and the wind so strong I felt it lifting the sense from my mind. In that hardware store, in that bar filled with weed and bad intentions. I’m glad you split me open, glad you could see the good that was still inside. I thought I’d lost her for a minute. Thought she’d forgotten her way home.

Let’s go get a coffee. Let’s pretend it’s always been this way.

Let’s fall in love. The rest will take care of itself.

It takes three weeks in total to properly pack up your things. Two days after you accepted the job, you bought boxes and tape, and began to dismantle the identity you’d spent twenty-three years creating for yourself, a little bit at a time. Taking apart the pink-walled museum of your life, artefact by artefact.

Joel has helped as much as you’ve let him. Laid back on your bed when you’ve dismissed him one too many times, raised his eyebrows and laughed with you whenever you come across some old, forgotten piece of memorabilia. Something ceremonial to it, something innocent and fun. Like a little graduation for all the parts of yourself.

Soon, as the last of the summer sun dampens outside, your room lies vacant. Empty of any real evidence of your being here. Bedsheets and pillows folded, packed away; framed photos and posters unpinned from the wall and wrapped up safely. Drawers and closets barren, left with a selection of your less-loved, less-worn clothes. A wardrobe built from stuff you’ll only ever wear when you come back home to visit, if even then.

Joel’s sat on the bare mattress, looking around your room. You’re stood opposite, leaning against your half-empty dresser. The sun filters feebly through your turned shades, averting her eyes.

You look over at him. Golden, like the sunlight outside. Warm, like the breeze through the trees. Yours. Yours yours yours.

“What?” Joel asks, his eyes having finally found their way back to you. He smiles at your focused expression.

“Nothing. I don’t know. Just…”

“Talk to me. Tell me.”

“You are – this is…” You sigh. “This is good. I think it’s good. Not just all the stuff we did. But you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “You’re good for me.” You grip the wooden lip tighter, swaying nervously when you add, “But I think it was always gonna go this way, wasn’t it?”

He sniffs. Shoulders jerk in a weak shrug. “Yeah, I think so, baby.”

Your eyelashes flutter, soothing the prickling feeling of tears forming. “I don’t – I don’t know if I want it to.”

“Yeah,” Joel says through a groan, pushing himself up, “you do.”

You shake your head as he approaches, and his hands cup your cheeks.

“Hey,” he whispers, pulling your body tight against his. Your face buries in his chest; your tears wet on his shirt. He shushes you, rocks you gently back and forth with a hand on the back of your head. “Listen to me.”

“Joel –”

“Listen to me.” He pulls you back, swipes the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they fall. “We’re fine. We are going to be fine.”

“I don’t want to leave you –”

“I know, I know. But you want to go do this. And that’s okay. Both of ‘em, at once.”

Your head shakes again. Like an instinctive reaction to the thought of being separated from him.

Joel smiles softly. “I am going to miss you like hell. You got no idea. But,” he pulls your head back to face his, tucks your hair behind your ear, “I want you to go. You gotta go after this. Right?”

“I know,” you whisper, lungs lurching for breath. “I just – wish it didn’t mean leavin’ you.”

“Darlin’…” Joel coos, pulling you in again. “You know how much I love you? What do I keep tellin’ you? We’ll be alright. It’s you ‘n me, right?”

You nod, salty tears slipping between your lips onto your tongue. When you look up, you notice the same expression on Joel’s face. He blinks his own away before they fall.

“’s you ‘n me,” you repeat, and he pulls your lips together.

You roll your tongue onto his, letting him taste you – all of you. Your mouth, and your thoughts, and your tears, and your pain. You let him take it all, let him hold it for this moment as you breathe him in, let his body fill yours in every way.

Your hands are in his hair, your chest pressed against his; he’s every thought on your mind and every beat in your heart. He’s the blood thrumming through your veins, he’s the oxygen filling your lungs; he’s the words between your teeth and the flesh around your bones.

And he pulls you, and you follow, his shirt in your fist, over to the bed where he lays you gently and falls on top.

“When’s he get back?” he asks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Later,” you mumble, your fingers picking at the hem of his shirt.

He pushes back, letting you tug it up up up over his shoulders at the same rate he peels your tee from yours, both tossing each other’s clothes to somewhere else in the room. Jeans undone, shorts dragged from your hips, underwear discarded until you’re naked under him, and he’s naked over you, and there’s nothing and no one between.

Joel cradles you, holds you close as he presses a palm roughly against the underside of your thigh, opening your body to him in a way only he’s mastered. In a way you only would, for him.

His hand cups your sex, fingers nudging between your folds, pushing in when your jaw slackens and a wanton moan echoes from your throat across Joel’s tongue.

“Yeah,” he coos, wrist jacking between your legs, “’s my girl. Gotta get you warmed up, huh? Get you nice ‘n wet.”

Your back arches, arms linking around his neck to pull him closer, pull him deeper. Hold him tight enough to you that your bodies feel one, feel connected at the meeting of Joel’s hand and the most intimate part of you; the meeting of your tongues between teeth.

And you gasp, the nudging of his fingers against the deepest part of your body, the messy circles of his thumb on your clit. The shape of him, solid and warm against the seam of your thigh.

You reach down for him, wrapping your fingers around his cock, and his breath hitches. Teeth bump into yours. You’re fucking irresistible to him.

“Darlin’,” his voice is low, daring you to keep going, “you wanna cut this short ‘fore we’re even started?”

You breathe a laugh into his jaw, hot and needy. “You get to play with me,” you whine, “I wanna play with you, too.”

Joel growls, seizing his movements, leaning back in what you take as him granting full access to his body. But then he says, “Turn around,” in a strict voice you’ve come to know as meaning one thing, and you pause.

You peel your eyes from his dick to blink up at him. “Turn –?”

“– around, now.” He takes your waist, hoisting you up until you’re straddling him, holding you inches above his body. “Turn.”

“What the fuck are you –?”

“Many times do I gotta tell you? You said you wanted to play.” He twists your waist until you follow his movements, swinging one leg over the other. He grabs your hips, tugging you back towards his face. “So, play,” he mutters, lowering your cunt down to his lips.

You gasp, falling forward and hitting the mattress between his legs. “J– fuck me. Are you s-serious?” You moan, hips rocking against the feeling of his bearded chin at your clit. “You’re like – a fucking – horny teenager. Oh, fuck.”

Your head falls forward, hands splaying out over his thighs, before your eyes refocus and you notice the hardened shape of him, tip oozing precome all over the hair-spattered plain of his groin. Your hand lifts, shakily taking hold of him again, and you lean down.

Elbows hooked over his thighs, you bring his tip to your lips, letting a thick bead of saliva fall and drip down the length of him, meeting your closed fist to be dragged up and down.

Joel’s hips almost buck. He holds it, manages to catch it, but you spot it. You’ve done this too many fucking times not to notice the reaction you draw from him.

“’s good,” you whisper, circling your hips on his face, tongue slipping across his cherry-red tip. “Feels so good.”

He responds in the form of a deep groan, rattling from his chest through your clit, shocking like lightning up your spine until the very same noise is thrown from your lips. You push down, tongue molding around every vein and the slow curve of his cock until your lips meet the thick brush of hair at his base, his tip kissing the very back of your throat.

Your throat which jumps, jolts at the feeling of something intruding – before you’re retreating again, pulling him from your body, warm, wet spit linking the two of you when you come up for air. And then you sink back down, head moving up down up down up down as his stomach tenses beneath your chest.

Joel’s palms keep a heavy hold on your ass, his tongue lapping between your folds like they’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted – like he might die if he doesn’t get his fix of you. And you think, they are, and he might, as your cheeks hollow and you bow down over him again.

You establish a rhythm, two waves swirling between one another: your hips rocking, Joel’s lifting ever so slightly as you suckle on one another. Your hand fisting the parts of him you can’t quite reach, not without choking; Joel holding you fixed to his jaw, letting the tip of his tongue hook around your swollen clit, then dragging it down until he’s letting you ride the wet muscle.

The approach of your first orgasm, a tiny spark catching to life in the pit of your belly, incites you with a need to open up further for him. Your throat taking more of him, your thighs slackening as you drive your cunt harder against his mouth.

“’m so close,” you whimper, lips curving around his cock. “So – fucking – ah, keep doin’ that. Right th-there.”

His hands hook around your thighs, tongue darting across your clit. His nose nudges somewhere between your folds, quickly becoming coated in the slick you’re leaking all over him.

“Joel,” you say, fists pumping his cock. Your voice a warning: it’s coming. You’re gonna – Fuck, you’re gonna come.

His voice is looser, more of a shrug of the shoulders when he pulls away from you. He inserts two fingers, curls them like before, like he knows drives you fucking insane. “Let go, babygirl,” he murmurs, lips immediately returning to position. And then, muffled and rough: “Come all over me.”

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, hands squeezing around his cock, feeling that same spark ignite into flame, your entire body bursting with heat.

Your high rips through you, battering through each vein in your system, each nerve electrified. You collapse between his legs, his rough pubic hair sticking to the sweat on your chest, hips rutting wildly against the sharp cut of his jaw.

The mattress absorbs most of the desperate moan which streaks across your tongue, nails digging hard into the flesh of Joel’s thighs. And you hear the deep sound of his voice, the thud thud thud of a chuckle against your clit: the cocky fucker laughing to himself as he unravels you for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Alright,” Joel says, more to himself than to the fucked-out shape of you between his legs. He sits up and shifts you carefully down the bed, settling you face-down on the mattress and lifting your ass to meet his hips. “Okay?” he asks, kneeling behind you.

You feel his tip between your legs, slotting happily somewhere in your opening. Waiting for your response. A response you don’t feel able to give, as much as you’d like to; your lips puffy and confused, words jumbling behind them in a tangle of bliss and love.

“Baby,” Joel says, hand slinking down your back, pressing gentle circles into the nape of your neck. “You okay?”

Your head lifts, glancing over your shoulder to see his hairy torso, his thick arms caging over you. He lifts your chin with two fingers, cranes your neck up until you’re looking into his eyes, heavy lids blinking dumbly.

“Just fuck me,” you whisper, and Joel slips his tongue into your mouth.

You used to dream of coming back home. A few years away, doing whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted. Dreaming things up and then chasing them until they happened. Tiring yourself out, lungs gasping for breath and eyes always searching, always looking for a new target to pin up. But always coming back.

Austin, Texas. Its jagged skyline, the streets lined with a vibrant glow and star-spangled bunting. The river like a silver-bellied snake slithering through. Home.

You dreamt of living out your days here, once your blood had slowed and your mind settled. A quiet life in the country, a big wooden house with a wraparound porch. Two little rocking chairs, so you and whoever your husband turned out to be could sit and watch the sky fade from red into orange into white and then dull gray into deep blue.

Breeze kissing your cheek, his lips kissing your knuckles.

Joel.

Home.

You tell him, and he smirks. “That so?” he asks, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your naked body.

You nuzzle your cheek into the palm of his hand, breathing in the sweet scent of sweat and sex sitting in the air. “Mhm. You could play guitar until the stars come out.”

He hums in agreement. “Sounds like a pretty good dream. Tell you what: you go to LA, do what you gotta do. By the time you come back, there’ll be a big ol’ farmhouse, wraparound porch, rollin’ fields for the dogs. Coffee ‘n sunsets. How’s that sound?”

“And you’ll be there?”

He smiles. Scoops you in one arm and rolls you onto your front, chest to chest with him. His fingers ghost down the curve of your shoulder. “Baby,” he whispers, “I built the damn thing.”

It forces a laugh from your chest, something you’ve gotten used to by now. Joel and his ability to steal a giggle from you, the dumbest moments seeming the funniest. “You’re gonna build me a damn house?” you ask, chin resting between his pecs.

“That what you want?”

Your head rocks left to right, considering. “I just want you. That’s all.”

“Then you got me. I’m all yours.”

In his hazel eyes lives every moment you’ve ever shared. Every conversation, every kiss, every fight. Every minute he’s spent looking for you or at you, every minute you’ve spent looking back at him. It’s all in there. You see it like a movie reel, frame by frame.

It lands like a slot machine on that first night. Cleaning up after pizza. Shoulder to shoulder by your kitchen sink. You wish you’d just kissed him. Even with your dad right there. Wish you’d lifted your heels and put your lips on his, just for the fucking hell of it. Just to condense all of it, every second of longing and hurt and pain into one fleeting moment.

Wish you’d pulled him into you, against you, the weight of his body like an old friend. Welcomed it with open arms, like you’d spent your entire life missing it, waiting for it to come back to you. Let yourself feel your own heart, peeling between the cage of your ribs, reaching out for his. Always reaching for him.

Wish you’d looked him in the eye, tears softening the tufts of graying hair, vignetting the smirk only you can tell is there. Looked at him in that knowing way, that language only you two know; the glint in your eyes translating a thousand messy words into three. Just three – the simplest, lightest words you’ve ever known.

I love you. Let’s skip to the good part.

#welp i didn't cry when i hit post. me? no. no way #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #cowboy like me

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soft-girl-musings · 2 months

Text

Stranger Danger

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

MK Spring Bingo entry #5

tags: reader is being stalked & responds in a way the author (a woman) has been taught to, emotional protector steven grant to the rescue, no use of y/n

wc: 1,138

fic summary: There's safety in numbers, do you want mine? (too soon?)

_____________________

“Oops, careful!”

Steven drops the last of his veggie wrap as a pair of kids rush past the bench he’d been hunched over. As he picks up the debris, he sees where one of them dropped their hat. He picks it up and half-jogs after them to return it.

“Gotta stay aware of our surroundings, yeah? Don’t want to lose our valuables.” The kid rolls their eyes but thanks him before running off to catch up with their friend.

“Oh my gosh, hi!”

Steven turns around to find you walking swiftly toward him, your smile too wide and tone too familiar.

He’s never seen you before.

“... hello,” he answers cautiously, taking one step back but failing to put much distance between the two of you. You practically cling to his side when you approach, takeaway cup and phone in hand.

“Sorry I’m late, but you are terrible at giving directions, mister.” Taking his arm, you begin to walk away from where you’d appeared.

This wouldn’t be the first time he’s forgotten conversations or plans. But as he racks his brain for something, anything tied to you in his memory, Steven notices the panic in your eyes and the slight waver in your voice.

Your hands shake a bit as you unlock your phone, passing your cup to him. He takes it, still bewildered but obedient. “I swear, the cafe never spells your name right. Let me make a note for next time.” You type swiftly, showing him the screen.

being followed, please pretend you're my boyfriend

Steven doesn’t know you.

But he nods, grasping your arm closer with his free hand and gives his most convincing grin. “Steven with a ‘V’, love.”

Relief instantly washes over your features and you relax a little. “Right. I’ll remember that… Steven.”

His smile grows before he remembers why you're holding onto him. “Do you want to sit down? Or go somewhere else, maybe I could call someone–”

“N-no, it’s fine. Let’s just sit. In plain sight,” you half-whisper. Steven nods, ushering you back to the bench in the middle of the busy square. When you sit, you don't let go of his arm.

Instead, you type into your phone as you speak. “Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?” Steven glaces at your notes app again.

do you see a man in a black jacket?

Steven scans the area, careful not to look too suspicious. Unlike the person he’s sure you’re referring to: a man in dark clothes, hands shoved into his pockets and rigid as he looks around with increasing urgency. His prominent frown grows when he sees Steven next to you.

“Yeah,” Steven says to both your questions. He looks away from the menacing figure, but sets your drink down and wraps his arm around you. He's glad to feel you settle into his side, still shaking but catching your breath.

“I take it you don’t know Mr. Black Jacket?”

“No, I do. Sort of. He’s a regular customer of mine,” you sigh. “One who doesn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Ah.” Steven keeps the guy in his periphery, splitting his focus between him and you. “Stalker, then?”

You freeze up at the term. “Yeah… he’s been pretty relentless.”

You meet his eyes, which are swiftly filling with concern. “Thanks again for… this. I usually find a mom or another woman to walk with me until he leaves, but I saw you with those kids and just… panicked, I guess.”

“S’not a problem, love.” Steven knocks your foot with his, drawing a small smile from you. “Glad to help you feel safe.”

You laugh a little. You let your gaze drift over to the man in black, an uneasy pit growing in your stomach when you briefly make eye contact.

“He usually goes away after a while. I've told the police, but they can't do anything unless he… you know.” Your brow furrows as your grip loosens. “I don't mean to take over your afternoon, but would you mind waiting with me?”

In that moment, you could have asked Steven for the moon and he'd find a way to lasso it down for you.

He squeezes your hand. “‘Course I can. Lovely day with lovely company, quite the ideal afternoon in my books.”

Steven dives right into talking about anything and everything that comes to mind– which, as you learn, is a lot. Normally he'd hit a wall after a few minutes, either because he'd realized he had talked himself in circles, or his less-than-captive audience was visibly zoned out. But you hang on his every word, grateful to be arm in arm with a stranger describing the supposed viscosity of ancient Egyptian embalming oil. It's a welcome distraction.

So distracting, in fact, that after an hour you realize the crowd has thinned around you. With Mr. Black Jacket nowhere in sight.

“I think he's gone,” you sigh with relief. Steven stands when you do, handing your things back.

“Patience won out in the end,” he beams. You see a brief look of panic cross his features.

“He doesn't know where you live, does he? Do you need an escort?” Steven's already taken a ludicrously long lunch break, but the inevitable lecture from Donna would be worth it if it meant ensuring your safety.

You shake your head. “I've been careful.” Extending your hand, you smile. “It was nice to meet you, Steven with a ‘V’.”

“Likewise, love.” He shakes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Another look crosses his face before he continues.

“Do you want my mobile number?” His words come out too fast; if you hadn't spent the past hour listening to him, you might have missed what he said. “Just in case you need someone to wait with you again, or keep an eye out. Would that be alright?” He shakes his head, stepping back. “'Matter of fact, forget I said anything, don't want you to think you've traded one creep for another–”

“Sure.”

Your simple answer stops him in his tracks. “Oh, you don’t have to–”

“No, it’s fine. Really. When you offered, it felt nice to know someone could be in my corner on this side of town.”

You take out a scrap of paper and a pen from your bag. “How about this: you write it down, and I’ll add your contact if I ever need my knight in shining armor again.”

Steven concedes, pen and paper in hand as he scribbles his number down (then asks for a new paper in case the first was too illegible).

When you leave, he watches until you turn the corner. He goes the opposite direction, back to the museum. Part of him hopes you’ll never have to reach out, for your own sake. The rest of him hopes you do anyway.

_____________________

A/N: oh steven, the man that you are. a couple more bingo prompts will be focused on this dude, which is excellent practice for some exciting projects down the line...

as always, ty for reading <3

event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

#my works #just edited the word count lol #mk spring bingo 2024 #moonknightevents #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant/reader #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant/fem!reader

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moralesluvr · 11 months

Note

omg can i request one where you do the lipstick trend on tiktok with hobie?? i’m not rlly good at explaining things 😭 btw i love ur writing ❤️‍🔥

the lipstick challenge ft. hobie brown

♡ pairings & aus: hobie brown x fem!black!reader ♡ summary: you do the lipstick trend from tiktok with your boyfriend! ♡ warnings: kissin', hobie acting a fool, him being a cutie ♡ a/n: thank you for your request! and tysm!! this was so cuteeee ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

"I'M NOT DOING THAT."

That was one of the first things that came out of Hobie's mouth when you begged him to do this challenge with you-- you even added a 'pretty please' on top and he still refused. You grabbed his hand as he walked away, trying to yank him back to you, "Please, baby? I don't see any harm in doin' it!"

Hobie gives you vex groan, walking to the kitchen to find something to drink. You skip behind him-- you really weren't taking no for an answer. Compromise could be given, of course-- you didn't even have to post it!

You stand behind your boyfriend as he scans the refrigerator to look for something to drink. You're so quiet that he nearly forgets you're there, and when he takes out a bottle of water and turns around, he almost jumps when he sees you. His face immediately hardens, "I literally just about laid a brick on myself, love, why are you jus' followin' so close behind me like that?"

"Because," you drag, pulling at his arms, "I want you to do the TikTok with me! C'mon, Bee, I don't even have to post it. It'll be so cute. Do it for your girlfriend, please?"

With the way that you're looking up at him with those sweet brown eyes, it's hard for him to even deny the fact that he feels bad for telling you no. He throws his head back for a second before saying, "Fine, but you cannot post it no matter what."

You squeal at him, grabbing his hand firmly and dragging him back to his bedroom, though it was practically shared between the two of you because of how much you're always at his place or in his bed. You grab one of your makeup bags and your phone as Hobie takes a spot on his comforter, wondering if he made the right decision to let you do this.

"Okay, so here's how this is gonna go," you grin, plopping next to him excitedly. You take out a red lipstick, "I'm gonna put this on my lips, and then I'm gonna kiss you on your face so that it leaves stains. And then I'll put it on and mess up on purpose, and then--"

"I'm not gonna lie," Hobie says, leaning back to rest on his arms, "I'm just a tad bit lost, love, so you're gonna kiss me first?"

"Let's just do one step at a time." You suggest, opening the TikTok app on your phone and setting it up on the dresser, ready to hit record. You then grab your lipstick and use the camera as your mirror, the silky red substance glossing your lips over flawlessly. You turn to Hobie, who nods, "Gorgeous."

"Mhm, now c'mere and let me kiss you."

You leaned closer to your boyfriend and grabbed his face, pressing a fat kiss directly on to his cheek. You hear him groan, but the way his lips are stretched ear to ear makes you think that he's not really disliking it as much as he portrays.

You give him a few more kisses before smiling at him, "Ready?"

He nods, and you quickly tell Hobie what he's supposed to do before grabbing your phone and starting the video. You slide the lipstick across your bottom lip, and then down your chin a little, frowning before you feel your boyfriend's ringed thumb wipe it away. You then pan the camera towards him, and he's smiling big, looking at you with loving eyes. You geek once the video ends, "That was so cute!"

You watch it a couple times over before settling on the fact that's it's honestly the best you're gonna get. Hobie stands to his feet, walking over to the door before pausing, "'M gonna go wash this off, I'll be back. And oh, do not post that!"

Shooing him off, you watch Hobie leave before you give a devilish smirk to your phone, staring at your new incoming notification.

gwenstacy & miles_morales4 have liked your video.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🎸: @lipstickstainedshells // @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10

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runa-falls · 4 months

Text

my ex’s tapes

summary: you and basil broke up, and now, you're seeing some other guy. but basil just can't get over you. and you know it.

pairing: ex!basil stitt x reader, fwb!jake lockley x reader

rating: explicit (18+)

cw: dub-con, smut, creep!basil, voyeurism, stalking tendencies, piv sex, virtual!cucking, m!masturbation, no aftercare, angst

wc: 1.5k

a/n: this fic was originally for someone else, but basil just fit the vibes so much more!! and yeah, the poll ran for less than 10 hours BUT 🤷🏻‍♀️ im impatient. y'all know me, i can't hold on to a finished draft for more than a day -- so this is this, take it or leave it.

masterlist

----

He sighs as he opens up his laptop.

It’s depressing, he’s depressing -- disgusting.

A hot veil of shame washes over him as the monitoring app automatically opens for him as he logs in. A reminder of his dirty habits. And yet, for some reason, it makes it that much hotter.

The screen brightens as the program displays the soft pinkness of your bedroom. A small smile quirks at his lips as he spots you laying prettily in your mini nightgown, sprawled out on your bed, as you idly text someone on your phone.

A quick ping makes Basil switch programs and scan over your conversation.

Jake: be there in 5

You: ok! text me when you arrive :)

It’s like clockwork.

Every Friday he comes over, fucks you into the mattress then leaves before he can fall asleep next to you.

What a piece of shit, leaving someone like you alone at night.

You deserve better. You deserve someone like him. Someone that will cuddle you to sleep and wake you up with a cup of coffee, or kiss every inch of your body while telling you how perfect you are.

And for a moment you did have him–but then your friends went and fucked everything up.

Despite all the shit he did for you, you weren’t satisfied, or rather, your friends weren’t satisfied. Apparently, his idea of protection and security was overbearing and controlling. And he was being clingy because he wanted to spend time with you. They’ve been filling your mind with bullshit ever since you introduced him to them.

Basil easily concluded that you were pressured into breaking up with him. That you aren’t really done with him–you’re just waiting for the right time to get back together. That’s his excuse as to why his cameras and safety initiatives are still in place. Because you’re still his.

A feminine giggle pulls Basil from his thoughts and back to what he was doing. He alt-tabs back to the security cameras, eyes immediately darkening at the image of you clinging onto Jake’s shoulders as he effortlessly carries you into the room.

An ugly weight pulls at his stomach when he sees you happily draped around another man. That should be him coming home to you, carrying you to your bedroom to show you his love.

You’re plopped onto your bed with a squeak, bouncing slightly before pushing yourself up to eagerly crawl over to your hook-up. As you straddle yourself over Jake, he immediately starts to work his mouth over your topless chest.

Basil’s hand brushes over his twitching bulge as your back arches prettily to push yourself further against Jake's lips. Encouraging gasps and sighs fill the room as he nips at your sensitive buds. Your breath quickens as a hand drags up your body to fist at your throat. He sucks harshly at your skin, leaving a pattern of faint bruises and teeth marks along your soft skin.

Your nearly naked figure moves lithely over his clothed body, already getting off on anything you can get your hands on. Basil watches hungrily as your hips roll fluidly over Jake’s lap, cunt barely covered by a flimsy pair of underwear. He pushes against his erection when he sees your blissed-out expression, imagining it’s him that’s making you this desperate.

With a quick motion, Jake pushes you away to unbutton his pants, making sure to only push them down enough to free himself. You suck on your lip as you watch a bead of precum roll over the silken skin of his cock. You wish you could have a taste but that’s not how Jake likes it.

Jake tilts his head as he considers you on his lap, cockily taking in the way your hungry eyes drink him in. With a light tap on your thigh, he commands you to move, “Get into position, sweetheart.”

You climb off of him and settle yourself at the top of the bed, swiftly getting on all fours to present yourself to him. His hand grazes over your ass, clutching the softness before dipping into the heat of your center.

The soft fabric of your underwear is shoved to the side, exposing your glistening cunt to the room. Basil audibly groans as he catches a glimpse of your dripping hole, remembering how hot and tight you are. Your body is built perfectly to wrap around him.

Jake lazily slides himself along the seam of your cunt, humming lightly as he soaks himself in your slick. “Look at this weepy pussy…” You let out a breath as you relax your body against him, enjoying the gentle way he rocks over you. “You’re so messy for me.” Your body buzzes as his cock nudges against your clit with every stroke, fogging your mind with intoxicating pleasure.

You don’t expect it when Jake’s hips abruptly snap up into you with one smooth motion, quickly filling you to the brim with a stinging stretch. The rough texture of his jeans chafes against the back of your thighs as his legs push harshly over you. You whine as your face is shoved into a pillow, barely allowing you a second of fresh air.

Basil grips himself over his sweatpants as he watches your body struggle to get used to the sensation of being filled, legs shaking as you attempt to hold yourself up for him.

Jake easily ignores your trembling and immediately starts to pound into you, strategically angling himself to continuously prod against the electrifying spot inside of you. Despite the sharp sobs dripping from your lips, he knows you love it. Being treated like this. Like a toy.

Basil strokes himself as he watches your greedy cunt swallow another man's cock, effortlessly moving back and forth with each thrust. He can feel his cock desperately throb for you as the filthy sound of your slick sopping down your thighs travels through the camera’s microphone. What he would do to taste you right now, the zingy flavor of your lust on his tongue.

Though he can’t see your face, he can tell you’re already close. It’s the way your body stiffens ever so slightly like you’re holding yourself back from reaching nirvana. He hates how your moans are muffled by the pink pillow. He craves to hear how your noises crescendo as you near the edge, how you crumble as pleasure takes over your body.

You almost feel like you might collapse from the aggressive way Jake drives into you. Jake’s calloused fingers grip bruises into your hips as he pushes and pulls you onto him, setting an unbeatable rhythm that you can barely keep up with.

Jake’s motions briefly stutter as your cunt grips around him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, barely able to process his words as he continues to fuck into you. “Mm…Your cunt flutters so–fuck–sweetly around me. You gonna cum baby?” Your legs threaten to give in as molten heat rapidly blooms in your stomach, pulling you toward your peak.

You cry out as he begins to drive himself impossibly deeper into you, slowing down when you fail to answer him. His chest vibrates against your back as he growls behind your ear, “Too stupid to speak? I asked you a question, honey.”

With another nudge of his hips, you sputter out a response. “A-ah, yes—I’m so close, sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Basil’s sweats are messily shoved halfway down his thighs as he watches your tired body move bonelessly along with each movement of Jake’s hips. The stroke of his hand moves in sync with yours, cock leaking as he grips himself tightly to conceptualize the feeling of being inside of you.

The rawness of your climax causes your body to writhe underneath Jake and you involuntarily start pulling away from his cock as your cunt convulses with ecstasy.

Basil’s eyes squeeze shut as he’s coaxed into his release by your soft muffled whimpers. His hand works quickly along the length of himself as he rides it out, effectively spreading his mess with his hand and on the tops of his thighs.

Jake groans as you suck him in, hands shoving you further into the mattress as you’re unable to control the way your body flutters and jerks around him. With one last push, he spills into you, coating your walls in warmth before pulling out.

Basil watches as Jake steps out of the room after murmuring something about a towel, leaving you there panting in the middle of your bed.

Alone.

You slowly turn over to your back, pushing your hair out of your face as you come down from your orgasm, face thoroughly flushed from exertion. His heavy eyes admire you from afar, wishing he could join you on the bed and hold you against him.

He takes one last glance at you before reluctantly closing the laptop.

----

You reach upwards with your arms pulled taut and stretch your body until you feel light-headed. Though you enjoy being fucked from behind, your back is always left sore from arching so deeply. Jake is fine. Good even. But that’s it.

You’ve tried your hardest to ignore it, but something’s been missing from your life. Or someone.

Your eyelashes shadow over your gaze as you subtly glance at the stuffed kitten on your shelf. Your heart flutters when you notice the faint red light on its collar blinking right back at you.

He’s still there.

#*throws fic in your face then trots away*#basil stitt #basil stitt x reader #basil stitt smut #lightning face #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley smut

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h34rtbeat · 4 months

Note

what about non con with Heeseung and Sunghoon

NIGHT SHIFTS

warnings: non con, oral (m.receiving), p in v sex, public sex (?) , slapping, hair pulling, degradation. HARD non-con, and hard dom!heeseung, softer but still hard dom sunghoon

working late wasn’t necessarily fun, nor was it boring. every now and then you’d get some crazy people, but it was a gas station, what could you expect?

sure here and there some person would come in, yelling and screaming, yet nothing was as scary as now.

two very attractive men walked in, not strange— many come in after clubbing. but these guys were clean. nice jawline, one of them paler than the other, yet both were shining.

working at a convenience store wasn’t ever bad, not until someone attractive walked in.

dressed in a black shirt, a skirt and some fleece tights. the black shirt being a collared polo, with the company logo. that wasn’t charming at all. sometimes paired with a simple black zip up like tonight, since it was chilly.

especially not when these two men are gorgeous— probably the hottest men you’ve seen walk in this stupid gas station.

they wore hoodies and sweats, though only one had a hood on. you didn’t know his name, yet he knew yours because of your name tag. grabbing numerous chip bags and some sweet bread from the isles, they approached.

“having a goodnight?” you asked, not because you were actually curious, but to make some small talk.

“…so so.” one of them replied. the other one- the paler one was either zoning out, or his stare was really just that intense.

“you have a pretty name.” the same one— tanned one, spoke. he pointed at your name tag, making you a bit flustered.

“thanks.” you replied, still scanning other items.

then, you saw one— the paler one— lean over and whisper something in his friends ear. you saw the other one, the tanned one, have a face feigning shock. not super shocked, like a “oh?”

“your total is 15.2-“ your sentence cut short by one, the paler one this time,

“i uhm.. forgot my wallet. is there any other way we can pay?” you look between the two men. they both looked a bit amused.

“do.. you have your card on your phone?” you asked, there was always paying methods.

the tanned one spoke out again “no, well.. we were thinking of other ways to pay it back.”

“uhm.. i’m sorry i can’t think of any other way? Unless you guys have some sort of membership here.” you gestured towards the window, showing that there was an app.

“damn, she’s stupid..” one rubbed his face.

then, the paler one looked directly at you.

“hey, can you show me where the bathroom is?” you were about to point.

“no, like.. can you show me?”

you gulped. but nodded. you stepped out from behind the register, and began to walk towards the bathroom. why were you terrified? you had showed the bathroom before. it was behind a storage room for some reason.

you checked behind your shoulder to make sure he was still following, but then you saw both of them. maybe both of them needed to use the restroom, right?

taking a turn, you finally reached the storage room. where the bathroom was.

“and.. it’s right over h-mmph!”

a slender hand grabbing you, shutting your mouth while your back ended pressed up against the other one. panic filled your senses, and your wrists were held by the other guy.

“you know, you’re a real pretty gas station worker. usually it’s some old dude, but you…” the tan one leaned in, “are just… so young and pretty.”

“do you wanna know who we are?” the tan one asked, and you looked up at him, shaking your head.

“our friends come here sometimes… one of them, he’s real young. he thinks you’re real cute. you seen him? he has.. blond-ish hair..” he scoffed, before continuing “never mind , there’s probably a thousand guys with blonde hair.”

“be nice, she doesn’t understand what we’re doing.” the pale one said. “why don’t we tell her our names? i doubt this chick will snitch anyway.” he unzipped your sweater, with one hand. he took his hand off your mouth, to discard your zip up.

you squirmed, thrashing against the tanned one, not wanting to be touched.

“stop it— don’t touch m-“ a tug of your hair, pulling your head back, and the tan one was tongue deep in your mouth, clashing your lips together.

“she’s gonna be loud, huh..” the pale one mumbled, already meshing your boobs together through the polo. “my name’s sunghoon.. his name is heeseung..”

heeseung pulled off your lips, releasing your wrists so he could start rubbing your waist. “you’re pretty and your body feels nice.. how in the world did you end up in a gas station?”

in any other situation that you’d create in your mind, you’d try to scream and punch, but your waist was gripped so hard that you couldn’t move.

sunghoon moved in, now he was kissing you. they were going to have their fun with you, even if you didn’t want to.

heeseung seemed to just be observing, sunghoons hands still clamped on your breasts as he was sloppily eating you alive. heeseungs hands slipped lower, til they found themselves under your skirt.

you let out a shriek in sunghoons mouth, but he would only pull away if he needed to breathe, not if you did. he didnt care if you didn’t like it, because he did.

“a nice ass too…” heeseung muttered, flipping your skirt up completely. sunghoon pulled off of you, completely moving his hands off.

you thought maybe then— they’d both stop. then, behind you, you heard a slight shuffling noice, and you were flipped around, shoved to your knees.

you couldn’t utter a word of defense, heeseungs cock shoved right between your lips.

“Fuck— oh, you’re real pretty, so pretty..” he moaned, pushing your head down so you’d take him fully. He wanted to torture you, to see how you’d take it.

Fully aware that sunghoon was still behind you, even as your nails dug into heeseungs thighs. All that could be heard in that silent store, was your choking and gagging noises, and heeseungs moans.

“She’s a slut, I told you..” you heard sunghoon mutter, you could hear him lean against one of the storage shelves as your mouth was being used like a fleshlight.

“Heeseung, lift her up.” Sunghoon said, and heeseung groaned.

“why? can’t you see.. she’s enjoying herself.” heeseung mocked, your eyes brimming with tears, having on his cock.

“i think she’s ready to fuck, that’s why.” sunghoon muttered.

heeseung tugged your hair, pulling your mouth off.

“guess we’ll just have to keep her bent over…” heeseung says, as he forced you up. sunghoons hands pushed at your back, so you bent over, your nose dragging along heeseungs dick.

you felt a breeze against your ass now, yet you didn’t hear a rip. seemed this guy had enough decent to not rip your fleece tights.

“this bitch is wearing fleece tights.. i can’t even rip ‘em.” sunghoon cursed, slipping your panties to the side.

“that means she’s cold. we gotta keep her warm then, yeah” heeseung laughed, as he kept rubbing his dick, moving it across your face.

“did you grab those condoms off the counter?” heeseung asked, putting himself back in your mouth, just the tip this time.

sunghoon fiddled with the band of his pants, bringing them down only enough for his dick to spring out.

“no. I wanted to fuck her raw.” your eyes widened, and you looked up at heeseung, as if begging him to say no.

“do whatever.” heeseung laughed. “this bitch wants to beg.”

“mhm..” sunghoon took one final look at your sopping cunt, before sliding right in. “oh.. fuck…” he almost came from how right you were.

“is this bitch a virgin?” sunghoon almost laughed, beginning his deep thrusts.

“don’t think so.. she’s suckin’ my dick like a whore.” heeseung continued his hair pulling antics, and your body was forced to take sunghoon and heeseung deeper, the thrust moving your body involuntarily.

“fuck.. uh.. ah..” sunghoon moaned, landing a light slap on your ass. “clenching tighter? bet you’re enjoying all this, huh? you liked being fucked by two guys at your workplace?”

“nasty ass slut.” heeseung cursed. he could hear the way you gagged around him, he likes it more now that your tears were actually spilling down your cheeks. the lip gloss you wore was smeared all over his dick.

“oh.. fuck.. i’m gonna cum inside of her, yeah..” sunghoon mumbles, and you made a noise against heeseung.

“bro.. what if she gets pregnant.” heeseung questioned, even though he was suffocating you with his dick.

“no fuckin’ way. ask her if she’s on the pill.”

heeseung slapped your cheek. “you on the pill?”

you wanted to lie, to shake your head no, but you felt that either way, they didn’t care. it was better to be honest.

you nodded.

“she wants me to cum inside.. uh.” sunghoon grunted, before you could protest, heeseung pulled your face off, making your tongue loll out. he painted your face with his semen, making sure to leave some on your tongue.

“good slut.. i’ll have to come back and fuck you like he did sometime. swallow.” heeseung tapped your chin with his thumb, and you complied, closing your mouth and swallowing.

sunghoon did his quietly, cumming inside your cunt and forcing you to keep it in. he didn’t say anything as he tucked himself back in.

some part of you kind of wished it didn’t end.

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strawberrystepmom · 5 months

Text

izuku x f!reader. reader is referred to as wife, he is referred to as husband, reader has a defined and briefly mentioned career. wife guy deku compilation indeed.

Hey, have you seen this?

Your screen lights up with a text message from one of your closest friends, another message with a link to a video following quickly after and you tilt your head to the side at your desk reading the title of the video.

“Deku Wife Guy Compilation”

It makes you chuckle to see these terms stitched together, something that would probably not make much sense to your blissfully offline-as-he-can-be husband, but you understand what it means and press the link to open the video. It takes a moment to load and you jiggle your foot impatiently as it does, abandoning what you were last working on to focus as he comes onto the rectangle screen.

“My wife is the best,” filters through your phone speakers as clear as day and you smile despite yourself, the familiar butterflies you get every time you look at him blooming beneath your ribs.

“First of all, I want to thank my wife.”

“My wife is the true savior in our household, she’s a doctor…”

“My beautiful ____, my wife, my heart.”

“None of this would be possible without my wife so please give her a hand.”

It’s a three minute video stitching together every time he has mentioned you in victory speeches and press interviews and the like and it makes you wonder what people could be saying. You’re no stranger to running into the stray hater online yet you scroll down to the comments section, eyes widening when you see it filled with nothing but admiration for the strong foundation of love your marriage is built upon.

iluvchargebolt: man, i hope i’m loved like this someday :’)

momospantyliner: The way his eyes light up when he says her name at 0:48…beautiful.

Allmightisalright07: Reminds me of how i used to talk about my wife when she was still with us. They are certainly soulmates.

In comparison to other comment sections you’ve scanned in the past, this one makes you feel very warm in comparison and you feel the need to look away after being perceived by so many people who don’t even know you. Izuku’s love is so evident for you even strangers see it from a mile away, they can hear it in the soft way his tongue caresses your name like he’s kissing you every time he says it.

You put your phone down and turn back to your work, letting the video play over the speaker just to hear his voice when your screen lights up again and vibrates on top of your desk. Another text from the same friend, another link.

There are 10 of these omg

Another link pops up on your screen in a blue bubble, this time to a playlist containing videos in the same fashion as the first. Deku Wifeguy Compilation 1-10. Giggling to yourself, you press play and let the playlist run, each video growing in length with the shortest at 3 minutes and the longest at just over 10, your eyes widening realizing that he loves you so much there are videos worth of him simply stating it over and over and over again.

The same compulsion that led you to check the comments section on the first video takes over and you decide to pause the playlist and read, scanning the comments for anything you could potentially use as fodder to be angry about later.

shotopleasereturnmycalls: damn…i really am single.

Redriotsarmpithair9680: Love like this is rare. So glad our beacon of hope has a safe place to land after he’s done keeping us safe <3

You don’t dare to go any further lest you do see something you won’t like, keeping the video paused and locking your phone to set it aside and reflect. It’s strange to live a life so public and private all at once, hiding some parts and sharing the others, but you’re grateful the most consistent thing about Izuku is that he has never wanted to do anything but shine his light on you, to make you the spotlight of his world and everything about him.

Abruptly you pick your phone up and slide the screen upward, the messages app filling your screen. You click out of the thread with your friend and into the one with Izuku and you type out three simple words, the ones that you feel all day every day.

You: I love you.

Miles away, he looks down at his phone screen and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, scrunching his nose, freckles barely visible thanks to the low light and bad angle but it’s all him - silly and sweet and sincere. He sends it off with the three simple words he feels about you in return, all day every day.

Izuku: I love you too, my perfect wife.

#deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #kendall writes

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bandgie · 5 months

Note

Hiya I just read some of your work and I love it, do you think you could do a Yandre perv Seungmin, only if you can. Have a good day 🥰

a/n: thank you so much! and yes on it!

synopsis: You start to notice little things when Seungmin first moves in with you. Maybe your underwear goes missing and you swear he's starting to use your perfume. Weird, but not necessarily bad. Well, not yet anyway, you still haven't found the camera he's set up.

warnings: nasty Seungmin lol

872 words

Your eyes scanned the floor of your bedroom, confused. You swear you left your clothes out on the bed when you got out of the shower, but it was missing. More specifically, your underwear. Maybe I didn't pull them out, you think.

Even then, this isn't the first time it's happened. You've noticed a huge decrease in the amount of panties you own. Things tend to go missing in the house, that's always been a thing. But why your thongs?

You change into your shirt, wrapping a towel over your middle and lower section before leaving the room.

"Seungmin?"

He hears you call him from behind his bedroom door. Your pretty black undies are pressed against his nose. Granted, they're clean, so the smell isn't as strong. But it does the job. The faint scent of your smell is enough to get him hard, tugging pitifully at his cock.

He shoves the underwear underneath his pillow and sits up. Seungmin shoves his dick in his sweatpants, ignoring how uncomfortable it is to feel the sensitive skin rub against the fabric. He only pokes his head out when he answers.

No bra, as usual. Your hardened nipples peek through the thin shirt which is slightly wet from your dripping hair. You smell nice, and judging from the towel around your waist, you just took a shower.

"What's up?"

You shift weight from one leg to the other, "Weird question, but have you seen my clothes around? I can't find anything to wear."

That's because I have most of them, he thinks to himself. "Uh no? Do you need some pajamas?"

Nodding, you answer. "Please. Just some bottoms."

Seungmin complies and closes the door, telling you that he just needs a minute. Which is half true, it won't take a long time to cum now. Not with the image of you naked in the shower, letting the soap and water drip down your body.

He drops back down on the end and grabs your underwear. He inhales your panties deeply, poking his tongue out to taste just a smidge of you. Seungmin much prefers when they're used. The smell is strong that way, and they're sometimes even warm. He didn't have time to dig through your dirty clothes this time.

Seungmin tears his jogger off and trails the panties down his body until it catches onto his hard cock. He wraps it around his length and slowly pumps himself. Quickly, he reaches for his phone and open his most used app. He's connected the feed to the hidden camera in your room.

It's wrong of him, so horribly criminal of him to use your obliviousness like this.

Even then, he can't help the twinge of excitement that courses through him as he views you through his screen. You're in your room, towel abandoned onto your bed. He watches as you continue to look for your undergarments.

You bend and kneel, giving Seungmin a perfect view of your pussy. It's not aroused, not dripping the slick as it normally would when you played with yourself late into the late. In a way, Seungmin finds it better like this.

Your complete blindness to what Seungmin's doing turns him on more. Here he is jerking himself off and getting your panties soaked with precum while you remain unknowing.

Seungmin finds himself bringing the phone to his lips, tongue peeking out to lick the digital version of you. Fuck, he wishes it was you. Your pretty cunt drooling as he'd eat you out. How you'd pull him closer by the hair, suffocating him in you.

The thought being Seungmin closer to the edge. Maybe you'd let him put his cock in. He would stretch you out so nicely, your perfect walls hugging him. Seungmin can't imagine how warm you'd be, how beautiful your moans would sound.

The dildo you fuck yourself on isn't enough, it can't be. Whenever he watches you through the phone, he can see how restless you get. There you were, doing all the work just to cum. You'd rather lie down and take it, at the will of the person fucking you.

Maybe Seungmin should play with you while you sleep. Cum inside you so you'd wake up feeling satisfied, complete. It's always been a dream of his. To imagine you waking up to the drag of his cock. Shh, he'd say. It's just a dream.

He's cumming before he knows it. Thinking of perverted thoughts about you always makes him finish.

He's thankful your underwear catches most of the spurts, the rest dripping down his balls. Seungmin stares are your pixelated pussy, watching how you wrap the towel back around your waist once you give up looking for something to wear.

It's then that he remembers how he promised you some bottoms.

Looking through his drawers, Seungmin finds a pair of sweatpants that are too small for him. He takes your cum stained underwear and uses his finger to collect small amounts of the white substance. He smears it into the joggers, making sure to blend it perfectly into the crotch area.

Seungmin only finds it fair to have you walk around with his cum on you. He always does it with yours.

a/n: perv? yes. yandere? maybe not so much. seungmin strikes me as the yandere type to think about you and only you all the time, not necessarily action based hope you liked it! edit: part two here

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erinfern0 · 8 months

Text

paint the sheets red

soft!dom!roman x afab!reader (smut ending with fluff)

- afab anatomy, gender neutral nicknames, only used pronouns are you etc.

summary: roman just craves to help you get through your period, he can't help burying his face between your legs.

warnings: period oral sex (r receiving), praise, somnophilia, blood kink, fingering, use of safe word, spit, edging, mention of aftercare, slight dom/sub dynamic, anxiety, etc

Usually, when you're on your period, you two try to stay away from each other, mostly for your own safety. Being sane, he would never risk so much by being close to you while you were bleeding, and you usually complied. Today was different. Today, you were desperate for his attention. You needed him close to you, to whisper that everything is going to be fine and that those feelings won't last. You were lost in your own head, trying to stay collected while running your hand over your stomach, imagining it was his.

The day was going awful. The cramps had been killing you since you woke up. Not a single pill helped to ease the pain you felt physically. You also suffered mentally from your boyfriend not responding to your texts.

Roman was busy like this usually, answering you only when he had enough time for you or when he just finished his job. You texted him in the morning, describing how bad you felt and how nice would it be if he came around in the evening. Walls of messages filled his phone but he couldn't leave the meeting as he wanted to. You were aware he had responsibilities other than you, which made you feel even worse - you felt like a burden for interrupting him like this. You closed the app and quickly threw your phone against the mattress of your shared bed with a sigh. You crawled up on top of the bed, bringing your knees to your chest as your side, pressing your hand over your warm stomach, trying to ease the pain, quiet curses mumbled under your breath.

Roman looked at his phone, biting his lower lip. You needed him. More than usual, and he wanted to be there for you. He could just leave, he had enough money to ignore the new client, but he knew it wasn't good for the company. He kept bouncing his leg under the desk as the men talked above him. They were asking him questions and he would just mindlessly nod his head, staring at the texts you sent him.

At first, he just thought about the pain you felt, about your loneliness and agony. How much he just wanted to be there with you, cuddling you while whispering how much he loves you. The thought of you flashing over and over in his mind, hand squeezing the phone to force himself not to message you back yet.

But then something else grabbed his attention. he looked over one of the texts and froze. Period. He had read it before and knew the reason behind your pain, but it hit him just now. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Blood. He ran his tongue over his top teeth, feeling how sharp his teeth were, mouth watering just by the idea of you. Sex and thighs covered in the red substance that tasted so damn good. He couldn't shake off the fantasy of bringing his lips to the soft flesh of your inner thighs, tasting you while his hands held your hips down to prevent you from moving too much. His eyes started getting hazy from craving you, scanning the people in front of him as he dug his fingernails deep into his palm.

The men didn't seem to notice how his eyes started slowly darkening in front of them. He had to have you. Now.

He lifted his body off the chair a little too quickly, overwhelmed by the sound and feeling of the blood running in his guests' veins. He felt dizzy, supporting his weight over the desk as he looked up at them. "Gentlemen... I believe I've heard enough" he says. The man who was taking care of the presentation froze mid-slide. "I'll think about your offer and let you know about my decision, give me some time. Thank you for being here" he said, almost politely before grabbing his phone off the desk and rushing to the elevator, loosening the tie just enough to help him breathe.

He texted you he'd be there soon but you were already asleep, trying to fight the pain. Despite how short the ride home was, it felt like hours to him, clenching his jaw, trying to discipline himself as he pulled up to the front yard. He quickly left his car, mind focused on whispering your name over and over like a spell in his head as he walked into the bedroom. He froze as soon as he saw you.

That perfect body curled up on top of the bed in your shots and a t-shirt, but not a regular t-shirt. One of his. He could smell you from the corridor, but now, when he stood in between the door frame the scent of your skin hit his head a little harder. He was obsessed with it. His urges only fueled inside of him as he saw you shift in your position, arms above your head that is slightly tilted, knees bent and shifted to your right just enough to slightly expose your butt from under the shorts, that's when he noticed it.

He could scent it before but he just thought it was because of your pad, now he knows the reason he could smell your blood so easily is because you were just utterly drenched with it. Your underwear, shorts, and the sheets covered with such a beautiful shade of red, he wouldn't even dare to look away.

Eyes focused on you, he starts slowly walking closer to the bed, his hands fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt just enough to expose his collarbones. Then he quickly takes off his tie and throws it somewhere behind him.

His eyes darken as he slowly spreads your legs, a gasp escaping his lips at the sight of the most incredible meal he's going to ever consume in his life. He cursed under his breath as he saw your face, scrunched with pain. 'poor thing', he thought and kissed one of your knees before slowly kneeling on the bed, brushing his fingertips over your thighs, trying to avoid the blood just yet.

He clenched his jaw, the thought of doing this to you in your sleep was getting him painfully hard in his jeans. He couldn't help but palm himself through them. You've done many things in the bedroom already, including somno, but never when you were covered in that beautiful blood of yours.

He bit his lip as he slowly moved your shorts and underwear down, a pitiful mewl leaving his mouth as he saw how red and slick you were. He rubbed his thumb over the red clots of blood on the material and smiled, throwing it somewhere on the bed. His hands were already covered in the substance as he gripped your thighs, leaving his bloody handprints over you. He just couldn't help himself.

He heard your tiny gasp in your sleep, causing his already throbbing cock to twitch. "Fuck", he cursed under his breath before slowly lowering his mouth to your heated skin, lips traveling over your inner thighs as he tried to remain as sane as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was to harm you, especially when you suffered much already.

He moaned at the taste of you, your sweet and perfect blood on display for him as he licked your inner thigh. His eyes were closed, hips slightly moving against the mattress as he got closer to your core, leaving trails of dark hickeys over your skin, barely visible because of the substance covering them. He gave your cunt a quick kiss before running his lips to your other thigh, doing the same thing over and over until he heard you whimper in your sleep.

"Oh, you like that?" he asked in a whisper, trying to talk to you while you were still unconscious "God, I want to see your eyes on me." he added, mostly to himself as he gave your swollen and sensitive bud a lick, just enough to make your legs twitch.

His fingers started spreading your folds to see the way blood slowly leaked from your hole, a smile appearing on his face as he gave it another lick.

And god, your taste. It was driving him crazy. The metallic, tingling feeling over his tongue sent shivers down his spine, causing him to jerk his hips. He growled against your core, sending pleasurable vibrations in your way. Under the blood, he also tasted something better. Your delicious wetness mixed with it almost drove him insane. He was fighting the urge to just give in, let go of his humanity, and just sink his teeth over your thighs or core, tasting you in a very different way. He regained his sanity as he saw your eyes slowly opening.

"Good morning, sunshine." he whispered right before slowly sliding his flattened tongue over your slit, causing your legs to tighten around his head. Your soft whimpers fill the room. His actions were lewd, almost animalistic, but the way he looked at you made you just spread your legs wider for him, letting him to take the pain away.

Your hands easily found his hair, tugging on it as you arched your back, craving the sweet feeling of him against you again but then you saw it. You froze immediately, seeing his face covered in red, hazed eyes watching your reactions. Then you looked to the side and bit your lip at the view of blood covering his sheets.

"I-I'm so sorry, Roman." you whispered as you tugged on the material. He just let out a grunt, shaking his head slightly. He wiped his face against your bare thigh, making you gasp as you saw the red staining his lips, teeth, and tongue. "I'll get new ones, I..."

"Don't you worry about it, angel." he mutters before kissing one of your hickeys. The way he caressed your skin with his nose made you shiver, embarrassment hitting your face with a blush. "Be good for me and relax, okay? It's all about you now." his voice was low and filled with lust as he left a gentle bite mark over your skin, just enough to let you see it, not to tear through the tissue.

You couldn't help but squirm as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping them close to his face as he looked at you. A silent plea to taste you again, and he didn't hesitate when you nodded your head.

He started running his flat tongue between your folds, collecting anything in his way just to swallow it right up, being careful not to push on your clit too hard. just very light and gentle licks all over you, cleaning you off from the cause of your previous suffering and embarrassment. He chuckled as he saw you reaching under your shirt just to add to the pleasure, but before you touched them you looked down at him. "Yes, you may." he said at your silent question, sucking on your clit slightly.

You gasped and tugged on his hair harder, your other hand quickly running under your shirt, wait, his shirt, teasing your hardened nipples with a hesitant moan.

"Louder, baby." he growled between your thighs and sucked a little harder, leaving your clit with a simple pop. "I want to hear how good you feel."

His words alone make you arch your back to roll your hips over his mouth. Romans eyes flutter with pleasure as he sinks one of his fingers into your drenched hole, spitting on it just to give it some more lube. He moves painfully slowly, just watching your red-covered hole grip his middle digit greedily.

"R-Roman" you gasp, begging for him to go faster. He just placed kisses over your thighs, his finger knuckle deep inside of your cunt as he nods his head.

"I know, sweetheart, I know." he mutters under his breath, leaving a single kiss on your swollen bud. "Just a little more f'me, yeah?" he looks up at you, his eyes filled with unspeakable desire and love towards you as he smiles lazily and picks up the speed, hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you. Now, the blood smeared over his face looks like proof of his obsession with you. "Color?"

"Green." you gasp and close your eyes shut in pleasure, feeling the slow licks of the tip of his tongue over your clit, only adding to the pure bliss you're experiencing.

The sweet and slow torture lasts a couple of minutes, him getting completely lost in your taste, your soft moans, and your begs as he gets you so close to the edge before he stops moving, leaving you aching for more, for that climax that's so painfully close.

He spat on your core again, pulling his finger out before massaging your hole with the new wetness, gasping as his fingers almost get sucked in by your cunt. But he meets resistance, and frustration hits him as he spits again, trying to work two of his fingers into you, but to no avail.

You squirm with desperation and anxiety as you see him try so hard. Your body cannot take more. Seeing him try like this makes you feel so bad. You have no idea if it's because of your period or just general anxiety, but you hold back, trying to relax for him until it's too much.

"Orange, Roman." you whisper, clenching your fingers over the sheets below you, back arching from the uncomfortable feeling, tears pooling under your eyelids. "Orange... I'm so sorry." you repeat with guilt in your shaky voice.

"Too much?" he asks calmly, despite your worries - he's not at all upset. He's so proud of you for using your safe word, he can't even express it with words. "It's okay, sweetheart, don't you apologize for that." he whispers and runs his fingers between your folds, trying to ease the feeling, and you thank him with a couple of nods of your head. "One's good?" he asks and presses his middle finger over your hole, waiting for your answer.

"It's perfect." you whisper and smile, playing with his hair as he slowly moves the digit inside, quickly finding that spot of yours.

"You wanna cum for me?" he asked before sucking on your clit again, this time a little softer. He chuckles when he sees you nod your head mindlessly. "words, sweetheart, use your words."

You can't help yourself from pulling his hair when he finally presses his mouth against you fully, chin adding slight pressure over his finger as he moves his tongue over your clit in various slow patterns. "Yes, fuck, yes I wanna come for you." you whine as you feel the vibration of his low, lustful hum against your core. He starts to move his hips against the mattress again, his neglected cock throbbing in his pants as he moves away from your cunt for a moment.

"Then be good for me and come, okay? You deserve it so much, angel." his words themselves make you shudder with arousal, mind getting dizzy as he presses his lips against you once more, licking and sucking while his finger abuses your g-spot. The hums only add to the sensation, making you tighten your grip on his hair, pulling him even closer as you begin to see stars.

You reach your climax soon enough, your legs tightly wrapped over his head, shivering mindlessly at the overstimulation, back arching as you moan his name like a mantra, turning into putty for him as you come undone. All you hear is his skilled mouth and finger doing wonders on your cunt as he pulls you even closer, fingers of his free hand so deep into the skin of your thigh that you're sure he'll leave bruises, but you don't mind at all.

Ae allows you to roll your hips over him through your orgasm, getting you down from your high with soft praises spoken against your core, lapping his tongue over you just enough to get those few last drops of your cum. You slowly unwrap your legs and lie down with your breath fastened, watching him swallow everything with a satisfied look on his face, eyes moving over your body with adoration as he stands up.

"Aou need anything?" he asks, caressing your thigh with one hand as the other wipes your cum and blood off of him. You get a little scared as you secretly admit to yourself - seeing him like this is a pure eighth wonder.

"Nothing..." you whisper and rest your head on the pillow, one hand in your hair as the other one finds his, playing with his bloody fingers. "Just some rest."

He nods his head and looks down at his clothes, smiling as he sees the mix of your blood, wetness, and his saliva all over the hem of the dress shirt he was wearing. "of course, sweetheart, you did so great f'me, you know?" he looks back at you and presses a single kiss to your hand. "I'll smoke and come back to you, gotta get you cleaned up, okay?" he smiles warmly as you nod your head and slowly leans over you, kneeling right between your spread legs as he presses his forehead against yours. "Feeling better?" he asks, and you smirk at the feeling if his hardness pressed against your bare thigh.

"Mhm, way better, thank you." you whisper and kiss the top of his head. He hums pleasingly at your affection. Exhaustion hits you right after, legs still shaking slowly as you reach for his belt. "What about you, tho?"

He chuckles and breathes in through his nose, taking in your scent as he nuzzles his nose over your neck. "Don't you worry about it." he whispers and gets off of you, wiping his face in his already stained shirt, then taking it off. He palms himself through his jeans and gasps, his eyes locked with yours. "You need some rest, then a shower. I'll get us some food, you want your regular?" he asks, reaching for the back pocket of his pants, getting his phone and cigarettes from it.

You nod your head and smile at him. He smiles at you back. Adoration in his gaze makes your heart flutter. You close your eyes as you cover your face with a pillow, second hand embarrassment hitting you again as you remind yourself of what you two just did.

"Hey, don't you hide that pretty face from me." he chuckles, feeling your eyes following him suit. You never thought that you could love this man any more than before, but there you are, smiling and throwing the pillow on the bed just to see his face for the last time before he leaves to smoke.

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