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beejunos · 22 days

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SPEAK TO ME | Alastor x f.reader

Summary: Alastors voice turns you on. Something he loves to take advantage of.

FULL STORY!

Here we have it! The full story! 5k of pure smut. Enjoy darlings! Tags: Dom!Alastor, masturbation, oral, light bondage, fingering, dirty talk

Attraction was a funny thing. It could never be explained, and often, it just appeared one day. Attraction could hit you like a train in the dead of night, but sometimes, it would follow you like a shadow. Whispering sweet words in your ear without making itself too known, not until it was too late, and you realised that you had stayed awake for two hours when you should have been asleep instead of thinking about what someone's hands would feel like on your skin.

Attraction was an annoyance, but lust, its evil twin, was irrational, unpredictable, and, worst of all, it made you stupid.

So incredibly dumb.

The lust had crept up on you like a thief in the night. Stealing your rational mind and sanity, leaving only the body to fend off the raging attraction that wanted to sink its teeth into your tender flesh.

Having a crush on the radio demon was a poor choice and a painful one.

It began weeks ago when you first arrived at the crumbling hotel.

Hazbin Hotel, with its rehabilitation program, had been your last resort after your landlord, who really deserved to be in Hell, kicked you out of your apartment.

You had been tired of fending for yourself, trying to work, feed yourself and find an apartment with a landlord who wasn't a humongous creep. It seemed to be an impossible task in Hell. It wasn't until you heard one of your coworkers talk about the interview on the news with the princess of Hell that you found out about her little redemption project.

The Hazbin Hotel appeared like a lighthouse on the horizon for you, and the prospect of a warm meal and a soft bed was too enticing to pass on.

Charlie had, of course, taken you in straight away and for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally catch your breath.

The bath you took that evening in your own bathroom, connected to your own bedroom, was heavenly. Almost sinful with how much pleasure you took from it.

The next day had been quite overwhelming to you, to say the least. Thrown into the middle of trust exercises with people whom you had known less than 24 hours, where you had, in the span of two hours, visited a bondage club and escaped a turf war that Vaggie had thrown you into. If that was how she had learned to trust others, then maybe you weren't cut out for redemption.

While the other hotel residents turned out to be a wonderful company, one, in particular, made your little sinner's heart skip a beat.

Alastor, the infamous radio demon.

He had ... not been what you had expected.

From all the tales you'd heard of him, you expected a grotesque monster who murdered anyone who would just look at him funny. But he couldn't have been further from the image you had created of him from all the rumours.

First of all, he was beautiful. His soft red eyes were so hypnotising that you feared you would drown in them, with a smile showing rows of sharp teeth. One thing was for sure: Hell would contort any morals and virtues you may have had, and if you had liked the idea of lovers biting your skin during intercourse before, it was now a raving obsession. An obsession that would fule you nightly fantasies for weeks and weeks.

Sometimes, that was the only thing you could think about, his sharp teeth grazing your neck or nibbling your ear.

Alastor was also very charming in his own way. A gentleman by hellish standards. Whenever you were going somewhere in the same direction, he would always hold up doors for you or pull out the chair for you during dinner time. Something you were highly unused to, and it had taken a long time for you not to blush whenever he did it.

Whilst his jokes were lame at best, the conversations you would have late at night by the fireplace were your favourite time of the day. Because you loved his voice. You really loved his voice.

There was something so bewitching with that transatlantic accent and that strange buzzing overlay to how he spoke. It made it sound like he was far away when he was, in fact, right in front of you, and the gentle buzzing had made you tremble more times than you could count.

Something that you suspected that Alastor had caught on to with how often he would appear behind you, only to put his head right beside yours and say the most innocent things that would make you react in the most sinful ways.

The day he had started to call you 'my dear' had been a day you would never forget, for you had laid awake all night imagining him whispering those exact words in your ear as you brought yourself to climax. Again, again, and again.

You had had a tough time the day after looking him in the eyes without thinking of all the times you had desperately whispered his name into your pillow with your fingers between your legs.

"What's this?" you asked, surprised as you sat down to eat breakfast. On the table sat a red present with a big black bow right in front of the seat you always occupied. You could recognise Rosies' gift rapping technique anywhere.

"It is a gift, my dear. Open it," answered Alastor and sat down to your right at the end of the table.

You and Alastor were always the two residents in the hotel who were awake first: You because you wanted to spend as much time as possible with the strange but charming sinner. Unfortunately, he had the habit of disappearing during the day, so you only ever had the morning and the night to talk uninterrupted with him. You also suspected that Alastor barely slept because, after your evening chats, when you went to bed, Alastor would go up to his radio tower to host his show, and you had no idea when he would end them.

You opened the gift slowly as if savouring it, trying not to get too excited about having gotten a gift from Alastor when, in reality, you just wanted to rip it open.

Inside the box was a beautiful antique radio in pristine condition. The dark wooded exterior was smooth and shiny as if someone had just polished it, and it made you almost not want to touch it in case you left fingerprints on it.

You looked up at Alastor, whose smile seemed to grow as he looked at you.

"I remember you telling me that you had never had the pleasure of hearing my radio show, and now you can listen to it whenever you want!"

At times like these, you wondered if Alastor knew of your slightly obsessive crush on him. He struck you as a man who liked to play with his food.

The radio turned out to be a great gift that you used almost religiously. Every evening, when you were preparing to go to bed, you would turn on the radio and listen to Alastor's radio show. You would have the radio on softly in the background as you walked around your room doing your nightly routine. Sometimes, you would even invent stuff for you to do so you could stay up longer just so you could listen to his voice.

It was almost like he was in the room with you, talking just to you about anything he found interesting. On the odd occasion, Alastor would incorporate a passive-aggressive threat into the show for some poor sinner getting in his way, but that never scared you. In fact, you looked forward to those instances.

Alastors' voice would drop and get darker, reminding everyone who listened that he was still dangerous—a predator waiting to strike.

A wolf in sheep's clothing, and what a stupid sheep you were. Yearning for the wolf bite.

Halfway through your night routine, you turned on your radio at a soft, pleasant volume, and Alastor's smooth voice filled the otherwise silent room.

"Salutations, friends and hellish residents! Tonight, we have a splendid assortment of the latest news and the best Hell has to offer in jazz, but before we chitchat about our dear city's hellish affairs, here is the newest music from Miss Jezebel and The Wicked Six!"

Slow and sultry jazz music started to play on the radio. The woman who sang had a deep, smoky quality that was inherently sexy to you. There was just something about women who sang with deep voices that made your hips sway from side to side, effortlessly dancing across your room as you started to strip, pretending there was someone there who enjoyed the show you put on.

You turned off all the lights except the small lamp by your bed and crawled under the thick blanket. Leaving the radio on as you made yourself comfortable, hugging one of your pillows close to you.

The song ended, and Alastor came back. This time, he started talking about the news. Since the news sometimes made you too sad to sleep, you never really listened to what he was saying; you only listened to his voice—his tone, the cadence of his speech, and his transatlantic accent.

You let his voice wash over you like a soothing balm to your aching body, but soon, you felt the familiar tingles run up your back. Warmth pooled low within you as you shifted in your bed, lying on your back. The desire to touch and be touched grew in you, to move, to grind, to satisfy the urge for sex.

Closing your eyes and letting your hands wander over your body, you start by slowly dragging your fingertips over your sensitive throat, making sure that your light fingertips touch all the places that made you weak.

Your hands travel from your throat down to your chest. Palming your breasts in your hands, you drag your nails over your sensitive nipples. Pinshin, pulling and rolling them between your fingers till they are warm and hard.

Your senses sharpen as you start to feel more intensely, but your mind goes hazy, making it hard to think clearly. Alastors voice is but background noise now that edges you on.

One hand stays on your breast as the other journeys down, down, down and under your underwear.

You slowly drag your finger between your lips, coating your finger in your wetness as you slowly pull it towards your clit. A breathless gasp is pulled from your mouth the first time your finger comes in contact with your sensitive clit. Slowly and with the lightest touch, you start to circle the organ, and what feels like electricity builds in your loins.

You can't help but move in your bed, legs bending and toes curling as you give yourself the pleasure that you wished Alastor would provide you. Your hand that previously played with your breast joined your other hand, and you let out a not-so-subtle moan as you pushed two fingers into you. Desperately, you curl your fingers inside you to increase the pleasure.

You want it. You need it. Your toes curl almost painfully as Alastors name falls from your lips like a prayer.

You're so close. So close you can see stars behind your eyes. You breathlessly chase that sweet release. Building, and building, and building. Your legs are shaking as you bite your lips. Hips lift from the mattress as you fight the urge to close your legs.

You are so, so close.

"What are you doing, my dear?"

Cold dread crashes through your body as you rip your hands away from your body. You frantically look all over your room in the shadows. Looking for that all-knowing smile and calculating red eyes.

His voice had been so close and clear that he had to be in your room. It had felt like he had spoken to you right beside your ear. But you were alone. No one was in your room but you.

"Such a naughty little creature you are, my dear. So desperate to be touched."

Goosebumps travel up your back as you slowly turn in the direction you hear his voice. On your nightstand is the radio that Alastor gave you. It is still on, but the yellow light of the display has turned red.

Towering over you in your bed, you almost feel like he is watching you. Observing you as you lay naked before him. Your blankets were by the end of the bed as you had kicked them off a long time ago.

"Can't even listen to me talking without having to touch yourself. My oh my, what will I ever do with such a bad little doe, hm?"

Shaking all over, you lunged for the radio's electrical cord and jerked it out of the outlet. The radio fell silent as you collapsed in your bed. Spent, but not satisfied. However, you soon start to tremble all over again over the fact that Alastor had listened to you pleasuring yourself, and he seemed to like it.

You would be lying if you said you had a good night's sleep after that fateful evening—or if you said you had slept at all.

You had stayed up all night replaying the previous night's events, unable to comprehend what you had been through. Had it really happened? Had Alastor really listened to you masturbate while you were moaning his name? It had almost felt like a fever dream had you not stared at the pulled-out electrical cord for the radio all morning.

The clock on your dresser kept ticking as you sat in your black dressing gown on your bed. The time was about to turn nine, and you had not stepped a foot outside of your bedroom, too scared to face the man after your night. You knew you had to leave your bedroom sooner or later, but you were waiting until you were sure that Alastor would have gone for the day to do whatever he usually did during the day. As soon as you were sure that you would not encounter him in the hallway, you would sneak out of your bedroom and go down to the kitchen to steal all the snacks you needed to survive the day cupped out in your own room, like the coward you intended to be.

It was one thing to fantasise about Alastor naked, but it was a completely different thing to now face the possibility that maybe he would like to see you naked, too.

Three knocks were heard from your door out of nowhere before Alastor slammed the door open and stepped in with a silver tray full of food in his band. You let out a small yelp before climbing further up into the bed to get away from the other sinner, who waltzed into your room as if he owned the place.

"My dear, what are you doing in bed at this hour? Don't you know that you've missed breakfast?" Alastor's voice was laced with a hint of amusement as if he found your predicament delightful. He walked over to the little table and armchair you had in front of the unused fireplace on the opposite wall to the bed and sat down the tray on the table before conjuring a matching armchair out of thin air. He sat down as if nothing was out of the ordinary and leaned his cane against the armrest as soft jazz music began playing.

As you sat on your bed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in your underdressed state, you watched in disbelief as Alastor, seemingly unperturbed by your unease, crossed his legs and settled into your room. His casual demeanour, coupled with his humming along to the music, only served to deepen your sense of bewilderment, and you were sure that you were hallucinating.

You must have eaten something terrible yesterday, and maybe everything you thought happened last night and now was all in your head.

"Are you going to eat or not? Your food is getting cold, my dear."

The look Alastor gave you from the corner of his eye told you that it was in your best interest to sit in the armchair in front of him and eat.

You slowly left the safety of your bed and walked over to Alastor. However, the steps you took on the way were tiny, considering that your dressing gown ended in the middle of your thighs, and you didn't want to flash him accidentally. Not caring about the look you got from Alastor, you shuffled your feet across the room and sat down in the armchair, struggling as you continued to keep your legs as close together as possible.

With shaking hands, you took the small coffee cup and were about to put it to your lips for a sip when Alastor spoke up again:

"Aren't you forgetting something, my dear?"

The look he was giving you made shivers travel up and down your spine. Shivers dipped in fear with a hint of excitement. He had never looked at you so intensely before.

"Thank you for bringing me breakfast," you whispered hoarsely.

"Good girl." You almost choked on your coffee, "And you're welcome."

You had a tough time looking into his eyes after that comment as your cheeks grew warmer and warmer.

Without warning, Alastor began to talk about everything that needed to be done that day. Apparently, Niffty had found a cockroach infestation in the basement, and Charlie had decided they would use chemicals instead of Niffty's needle, which she liked stabbing them with.

Alastor kept talking on and on about work and the hotel as you ate. On the outside, you kept calm as you finished the last of your breakfast, but on the inside, you wondered if he would mention what had happened yesterday. Had it even happened?

Maybe it hadn't, and your obsessive crush had finally broken you.

"Ah, I see that you have finished your breakfast! Well, I best be on my way!" With a snap of his finger, Alastor made the breakfast tray disappear into a red cloud. He did, however, leave the extra chair he had conjured up.

"Could you be a doll and tell Vaggie that I'll need the documents later today and that she can leave them in the bar? I need to head out today, and I don't think I'll be back until this evening," said Alastor as he stood up, brushing invisible dust off his impeccable suit.

"Uhm, sure. I'll do that. Just close the door when you leave, please," you answered as you looked as Alastor made way for the hallway door. He waved absentmindedly over his shoulder in affirmation of your request.

A small part of you were disappointed that this little breakfast meeting had turned out the way it had, no matter how confounding it had been. If only you could have gotten a hint from Alastor about what he was thinking and why he frankly was there.

Maybe he had just brought you breakfast from the goodness of his heart? Or he had just missed your company that morning since you usually only got to talk uninterrupted in the morning.

You turned around to walk to the bathroom as he left your room. Letting your shoulder slump in disappointment, you wondered what you would do that day. You remembered that Charlie had mentioned that it would be nice if the hotel's garden were more well-kept but that she couldn't hire a gardener just yet.

That could be the thing you did today. Find some gardening tools and surprise Charlie by pulling out all the weeds in the flowerbeds.

Oh, what a joy, you thought sarcastically as you started to open the bathroom door. However, it slammed close hard in front of you as a hand shot forward and a hard chest pressed into your back.

All around you began shadows to dance as if they were made of mist, and the air got charged with a static you were all too familiar with. The shivers came back, but your whole body shivered this time as his other hand gripped your hip, pressing you closer to him, but the only thing you could focus on was his breath fanning over your ear as he whispered:

"I will be back at eleven tonight, and when I get back, I will find you in your bed, naked, waiting on me. You are not allowed to touch yourself, and don't try to defy me, my dear, for I will know if you do."

In a heartbeat, Alastor was gone, and your body instantly felt colder. Shaking all over, your knees finally gave away under you, and you collapsed in front of your bathroom door.

Behind you, the radio began to play softly—the same music Alastor had played during breakfast. Looking at the blasted thing, you could see that the radio wasn't plugged in.

The clock was about to strike a quarter to eleven, and you had been a nervous wreck for the past three hours. Time couldn't have gone by slower as you constantly turned to look at the clock hands to see how far they had moved.

You had tried to distract yourself during the day with the gardening, but you constantly got distracted by all the fantasies you had of what Alastor would do to you. Turned out that it was really hard to work when horny.

As you looked at the clock again, you re-adjusted in your bed for what felt like the thousandth time. 22:47.

Ugh, this is taking forever!

Laying down again, you looked over at the radio on your nightstand. It had been quiet since the morning, but you still waited to hear the tiniest sound from it that would indicate that Alastor was with you. But nothing came.

You turned on your side to continue staring at the radio as you took one of your pillows and pressed it against you. The air in your room was cold against your skin, yet you ignored your chilled skin, for the mere thought of what would happen tonight warmed you from the inside out.

The benefit of laying on your side was that you now could feel the slickness between your legs, coating almost all of the insides of your thighs. You knew that Alastor had said that you were not allowed to touch yourself, but he had never specified in what way you could not touch yourself, and if you didn't get some of your release soon, you felt like you would spontaneously ignite.

Slowly, you started to press your legs together as you rubbed them against each other. Sweet pressure was building up the pleasure within you as you pressed your face into the pillow. Harder and harder, you tried to push your legs together, increasing the pleasure you had longed for all of them.

Close, you were so close, and the excitement of defying Alastor just heightened the experience.

You only needed one more push until you would fall over the edge into sweet release, but it never came as something grabbed onto your ankles and roughly pulled your legs apart.

"I must say, I am really disappointed in you, my dear."

From the shadows stepped Alastor out and looked down at you from the end of the bed, but what scared you the most was that he was not smiling.

Looking down at you from heavily hooded eyes, Alastor dragged your body further down the bed, keeping your legs spread out with the help of his shadow tentacles.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it," you pleaded, hoping he would show you mercy, but from the looks of it, you would not be shown any.

"Don't lie to me. You know very well what you did." With a snap of his finger, the armchair Alastor had conjured earlier that day dragged across the floor and stopped behind him. He sat down and made himself comfortable, looking over at you as he had a full view of between your legs.

"Now, darling, since you didn't listen to me, there will be consequences," said Alastor, crossing his legs and leaning his head in his hand lazily. You pressed up on your elbows to look over at him, and while his body language did not look interested, his eyes were sharp, focusing on your wetness that glistened in the light from the chandelier.

"One, you are not allowed to touch me."

"What?!" you cried, the fear that you had ruined your only chance with Alastor burning within you like a forest fire.

"Silence." You instantly shut your mouth as static filled the air and prickled your skin. Alastor's antlers had grown in size. He sighed and continued when he was sure that you would not say one more word.

"As I was saying, you are not allowed to touch me, but I can touch you however I want. If you wish me to stop, you will simply say television. Understod?"

"Yes."

"Yes, and?"

"Yes, sir?" You weren't sure what Alastor wanted to hear, but from the smirk that started growing on his lisp, you were sure that you had said the right thing.

"What a good little doe you are, my dear." Whilst you were sure that was said condescendingly, you could not help the pride that grew in you that he thought you were good for him. A small yelp was pulled from your lips as you felt Alastors tentacles start to massage their way up your legs.

"You seemed to like my voice so much, my dear, that I thought you must love it if I command you as well. Isn't that what you want? For me to tell you exactly what to do to you and how to do it? Wouldn't you like to put on a show for me, darling?"

Your brain was short-circuiting as you could not get a single word out. The only thing you could do was nod enthusiastically as Alastor's shadow tentacles gently began to play with your lips between your legs without touching your clit.

"Lovely." said Alastor, now giving you his trademark smile, "Why don't you show me how you touched yourself yesterday? I could hear those delicious sounds you made, my dear, and I want to hear them live."

And so, with shaking hands, you began massaging and caressing your body, making sure that you touched every part of your body that made you sing in pleasure. You wanted to put on a show, but you were so eager, so impatient as you played with your body that you could not bear the thought of prolonging this torture.

You needed to be touched, and you needed it now.

Dipping your hand between your legs, you could feel Alastors tentacles pull away from your genitals but keep a firm grip on your thighs. The first time you touched your clit was electric, as you made sure to look Alastor deep in the eyes when you did it. A soft moan from you filled the air.

Rolling the tip of your finger lazily against your clit you looked on with great satisfaction as Alastors eyes dropped from your down to your finger between your legs.

"Drag your fingers between your lips, darling, but before you do, circle your opening. Slowly without pushing in," commanded Alastor, and if you weren't delusional, you thought you heard the desperation in his voice, but his face gave nothing away. He readjusted in the chair by uncrossing his legs, giving you a full view of his hard cock in his pants.

Never had you been filled with the need to fall on your knees and suck someone's cuck as if it was what you were created to do as you did now. You licked your lips and whined loudly as you circled the opening to your vagina with your finger, wishing it was Alastors finger or tongue that did it instead.

After circling for some time, you pulled your finger through your lips up to your clit and began touching your clit again. This time, with additional wetness, you let all the sounds you wished to make leave your mouth as you quickened the speed of your finger.

"That's it, darling, you are doing so well." Whispered Alastor as he leaned forward in his chair, "When you feel like you're about to cum, remove your finger immediately."

The demand almost made you want to cry, but from the look Alastor was giving you, you did not want to challenge him. Savouring the feeling of your fingers a few seconds more before you removed your fingers from your clit that begged your release. The orgasm that had been at the tip of your fingers slowly fizzled out as you started to calm down.

You looked at Alastor, who had moved from his chair to sit on the bed by your feet, waiting for his following instructions.

"What a treasure you are, darling. So willing, so needy."

Alastor lifted his hand and, with the back of his fingers, caressed the inside of your thigh. The touch was so charged that it felt like you could cum from that mere touch alone. As your leg twitched from his touch, Alastor's tentacle tightened around your leg, pulling you closer to him. Your breath got stuck in your throat as you watched Alastor climb onto the bed, sitting on his knees between your legs.

"How long have you dreamt of this? How long have you been mine without me knowing it?" The look in Alastor's eyes grew increasingly intense as he leaned over you, looking down at you with an almost mad look in his red eyes. Out of nowhere, Alastor pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them, making your hips lift from the bed involuntarily at the pleasure.

"How long, my dear? Answer me," he growled as his antlers grew. You could barely breathe as he continued to curl his finger repeatedly inside you, hitting the spot that made your toes curl.

"Since... since I first met you!" you cried as your breathing quickened. Above you, Alastor chuckled darkly as he put his free hand on your left thigh.

"So long. We have much time to catch up to, don't we, dear?"

You could barely comprehend a single word that left his sinful mouth as you neared the orgasm you desperately wanted. And had you not made the mistake you would have made, you would have cum on Alastors finger.

In your lustful haze, you placed your hand on Alastors arm, holding your thigh. Instantly, Alastor recoiled from you, and the second orgasms you had almost tipped over were ripped from you.

"What did I say about not touching me?"

Two new tentacles came out of nowhere and wrapped around your arms, pulling them above your head.

As you begged and pleaded for forgiveness, the weight of your desperation was palpable. You implored Alastor not to leave you like this with every fibre of your being. The thought of losing him now was unbearable, and you knew that if he did leave, it would be the end of you.

Your legs shook from the strain of being in the same position for so long. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. You were overwhelmed with emotion, your heart aching with the fear and uncertainty of what would happen next. The tension in the air was unmistakable, and you held your breath, waiting for Alastor's response.

But he only looked at you from under heavy lids. Slowly, he lifted his hand that had fingered you and licked the wetness that was still on it.

"If you think I would leave you now, my dear, you are indeed mistaken. You are mine now, and I will do with you as I please." Grabbing both of your legs under your knees, Alastor pulled you towards him before bending you backwards so your toes almost touched the bed beside your hands. He stared deep into your eyes as he put his tongue against you and licked you from your vaginas opening up to your clit. The sound you made had been ungodly and would have been a miracle if no one else in the hotel had heard you.

Alastor quickly started to suck and lick your clit as your legs began to shake. You could feel the sinner's claws dug into your flesh as he grew increasingly frantic in his administration, acting almost like someone who had just been presented with a glass of water after 12 days in the desert.

Pressure built up within you for the third time, this time stronger and more intense than the previous ones. Closer and closer, he took you to the edge you wished to fall from.

Shaking, twisting, and pulling against your restraint, you let Alastors name fall from your lips loudly as you looked at him, giving you pleasure. Blood was dripping down from your thighs where his claws had dug into your skin, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the sweet release that you begging for.

"Close, Alastor, I'm so close," the words tumbled out of you in a whisper as you looked on as the man licked your clit with the tip of his tongue. The only thing Alastor did was briefly look up at you as he continued to give you pleasure.

Closer, closer, and then you fell.

The orgasm ripped through your body like a tidal wave, making your thighs tremble uncontrollably. Your toes curled almost painfully as you threw your head back in ecstasy.

You had no idea when Alastor had put your legs back down, but suddenly, when you came to it, he was sitting by your head, gently brushing your hair from your sweaty forehead.

"What a good little doe you were for me, my love."

Thank you for reading my little story! I hope you like it!

Taglist: @mossingvines @kitty-kei @chibistar45

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roguerogerss · 6 months

Text

The President

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

W/C: 3.2k

Warnings: SMUT!!, Livia is also a warning.

(this is getting out of hand now. someone please for the love of GOD stop me from writing these. also the president thing got away from me in this one and i feel sick.) (EDIT: here’s part 2 babes, as requested!) (requests r open, send me stuff here)

“Well, Felix will obviously get it." You'd hardly been listening to the conversation at hand, but Lysistrata seemed to be making a point that you wouldn't want to miss, given her excessive gesturing whilst talking, "His father was the last President, and he was great, I'm sure they'll take that into consideration-"

"But Festus is smarter." Livia cut in, snippish as always, pointed nose turned up and drink poised, looking like a judging, middle-aged woman. "And he's got the grades to prove it. And he was thought of very highly within the University, you know."

"But what about Pup? Surely he'll make a better president than Festus, and I dare say Felix, aswell." Clemensia was next to make her point, "Eugh, thinking about Festus at school, how sloppy he was," She'd turned to you, now, "Do you remember that? How on earth could he make a good president?"

"But he's different now, Clemmie, such a great husband, and he'll be such a great President, when he gets the position later." Livia was always so disgustingly sure of herself, it made you want to tell her to shut up, and then, after the fact, lock yourself in your apartment for the next few hours and scream into a pillow. "What about you, Y/N? Who do you think will get it?"

You hadn't even bothered to listen to what the rest of the women thought the pros and cons of their respective husbands being President of Panem, were. Your ears had only really perked up upon hearing your name come from Livia's puckered little mouth. "Well, I think you're discounting Coriolanus."

This warranted an eruption of laughter from all of the women around you, Clemmie laughed so hard that she had to grip your arm for support, and Livia pointed her glass at the rest of your former classmates and laughed with them over your statement. "You can't be serious!" Livia shrieked. "I mean, I know he's your husband and all, sweetie, but he's a total rule breaker, they need someone reliable, trustworthy! Your Coriolanus isn't anything of the sort."

Your Coriolanus. It almost made your face crack into a smile, and you had to roll your tongue around in your mouth to keep from giggling like the schoolgirl you once were. You'd only been married to Coriolanus for three days, but you'd had to postpone your honeymoon so that he could go ahead with his running for President of Panem. It didn't feel quite real, yet, that you'd married your childhood sweetheart, and hearing Livia refer to him as your husband, as much as you hated her, made your head spin with happiness.

"He'd be more than capable, Livia. He's smart, incredibly smart, and that's been recognised, too. And he's seen more of Panem than anyone you'd consider to be a prime candidate. Dr Gaul loves him, surely her vote is better counted than most anyone else's." You countered. Normally, you wouldn't involve yourself with such arguments. Your high school friends had been married a lot longer than you had, settled at twenty as opposed to your wedding at twenty-three, and you'd always had the gruelling job of listening in on them competing with eachother.

Who's husband was best at this, who's was best at that? Who's father-in-law was richest, who's husband had bought them the bigger house after the wedding, who's husband fucked them the most and who's was best? You'd vowed to yourself that, when the time came, and you and Coryo finally married, you wouldn't bother telling anyone much of your personal life.

"I suppose you have a point." Clemensia was easily the nicest out of your friends, the only one you really enjoyed the company of, and she liked Coriolanus, too. While the others only seemed to slander him, what with his stint in the games and his time as a Peacekeeper, she only ever seemed to speak about him from a place of friendship. "Coriolanus is smart, and Dr Gaul adores him, remember when we mentored? He'd have won the Plinth prize, for sure, if everything else hadn't happened."

"But it did, though, Clemensia. It did happen, and I think his chances have been ruined, if I'm honest." Lysistrata made her first comment in a few minutes.

"They've definitely been ruined. I mean, half of the Capitol think he's a rebel." Livia scoffed.

"But the other half think he's brilliant. A young, complex mind. Someone who doesn't think like the rest of us do." You took a sip from your drink, and Livia scowled at you. She knew you were right, and, although Livia always had a counter argument, she seemed lost on this one. "I suppose we'll have to wait. Maybe the half of us who think he's great will outweigh the half who don't."

"I suppose we will, slim chance and all, but..." Livia shrugged and clicked her tongue. "We won't be waiting too long, look."

She gestured to the television, which had been playing commentary from Lucretius 'Lucky' Flickerman, and had now switched to all four men standing uniformly on a stage, crowds surrounding them. Lucky uttered something about how the last votes had now been cast, and so it was time to announce the President.

Livia gasped and grabbed your hand, then Lysistrata's, and Clemensia took hold of your other one, giving it a slight squeeze and sending a small smile your way. "This is it!" Livia announced dramatically.

"Hold tight, ladies! One of us is about to be First Lady of Panem." It was painfully obvious, when Livia said 'one of us', that she meant herself. You knew she wouldn't even think about being happy for any of the rest of you, should it be anyone other than Festus claiming the title.

"Here, we have our four presidential candidates." Lucky announced on the television, "All Academy and University graduates, we have, Festus Creed, Felix Ravinstill, Pliny Harrington, and, last but not least, Coriolanus Snow!"

You smiled softly when the camera panned over the boys on stage, your childhood friends, your husband, standing side by side, all up for the position of President. Coriolanus' suit was pressed to perfection by Tigris, and you'd done his hair for him that morning, he looked amazing - handsome, professional, presidential.

"Now, in this envelope, I have the name of the man, out of these four, who will become President of Panem." Lucky flashed a black and gold envelope, and then stalled for a few seconds, having a pigeon fly out of his sleeve, and making an out of place remark about magic.

"The time has come." The broadcast was incredibly dramatic, and you wished he'd just cut the unnecessary stuff and put you all out of your misery. "The new President of Panem, is..."

The silence of Lucky's pause was filled with Livia clamping a hand over her mouth and squealing, you wished even further that she would just be quiet.

"Coriolanus Snow!"

You'd hardly been expecting him to actually win, but Coryo had put so much of himself into his campaign, and you felt a huge sense of pride wash over you as the cameras closed in on him and his face lit up in one of his stunning, toothy grins. Your eyes widened in shock, and you heard Clemmie laugh excitedly.

"Congratulations!" She let go of your hand and threw her arms around you. "Coriolanus deserves this, really, he does, and so do you!"

You hadn't a clue what to say to anyone, whether to revel in your glory or to extend your sympathy that their husbands hadn't won, but, when you turned to see Livia's face, bright red and obviously stewing in anger, and Lysistrata's dropped in sheer disappointment, you almost laughed out loud.

"I suppose the part of the Capitol who love Coryo is bigger than the part who don't." You smiled sweetly at Livia. "I wish Festus better luck next time.”

The rest of the day dragged on, Livia had only been letting her anger fester and had hardly said a word since the announcement - you certainly weren't complaining - and the rest of the girls were simply flooding you with questions, congratulations, and stories from when they'd been growing up with Coriolanus, as though reminding you of the fact they'd been there since before he was President.

The reporters had become an issue, too. Coryo had warned you about them, kneeling in front of you after fastening the straps of your high heels that morning. "They'll try to bleed you dry, whether I win or not. Just try to ignore them, don't give them much. All they want is a story." And then, he'd kissed you and smoothed your hair down, soothing you on what he knew was already a nerve-wracking morning.

You tried to remember his words, solidified with that kiss, every time they approached you. Don't give them too much, but don't give them nothing, ignore them where you can, wait until you've been properly trained on how to give interviews. It began to dawn on you that your entire life might start to feel like this, now, and you made a mental note to tell Coryo all of your concerns later and let him silence them for you.

You didn't see your husband for almost an hour after the announcement, and most of the women you'd been with before the broadcast were badly drunk by the time he showed his face. It was in the middle of a particularly slurred story, about something that Clemmie absolutely should not have been telling every female University graduate that she knew, that you'd felt the large, familiar hand snake it's way around your waist.

You turned to find Coryo standing there, beaming down at you. "Hello, First Lady." He mused. You smiled so widely at him, and quickly pulled his face down to connect your lips in an almost too suggestive kiss, earning whoops from the crowd of girls you'd gone to school with.

"Sorry, ladies, I'm going to borrow my wife for a while, if you don't mind." Coryo smiled to everyone, and then accepted side-hugs and kisses on the cheek and congratulations from everybody around you.

Afterwards, he quickly pressed his hands to either side of your waist and started to guide you through the crowd of people, avoiding reporters where he could and, where he couldn't, telling them he'd give them a proper interview later, but had somewhere to be at that moment. Most everyone you passed would clap him on the shoulder or shriek something that sounded congratulatory.

Eventually, you reached an empty hall, with large hardwood doors and, inside, marble pillars and polished stone floors. You looked around, amazed, you'd never been to this particular building before, but every room you'd gone into so far was a marvel in itself.

"I don't have long, shouldn't even be away from everything going on at all, but I couldn't resist seeing you any longer." Coryo admitted, face flushed as though this was a first date. You smiled gratefully at him.

"Thought I was going to die if I had to speak to anyone else from the Academy. I mean, how annoying is everyone we went to school with?" Coryo chuckled, approaching you and enveloping you in his arms. His suit smelled of roses, like always, and it calmed you so deeply that you wanted to stay that way forever, inhaling his scent and forgetting about every other responsibility you had.

"I'm sorry I left you with them for so long. Especially Livia, even Festus isn't as mad as she is." Coryo held you at an arms length and smoothed your hair affectionately. You leaned into his hand.

"She's certainly been a pleasure." You joked.

Coriolanus laughed and then, quickly, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard and making you smile against him. "Wanted to come and see you because I couldn't stop thinking about you." He explained, lips becoming rougher on yours by the second.

You knew exactly what he meant, as his hand squeezed your waist and he backed you into one of the pillars. "That car ride here, you're such a tease, and all for me, hmm?"

"All for you." You agreed, breathlessly.

"Such a bad girl, though. Getting me all riled up like that and not doing anything about it. Making me flustered, I was struggling to talk to people, just thinking about fucking you." His fingers ran from your cheek, down your neck and to your collarbone, which was exposed and red hot with arousal, "And you're so flushed, honey, makes me wonder if, maybe, you did this on purpose. Maybe you wanted me to think about it all day, wanted me to be pining for you, didn't you?"

You were quiet, just revelling in the way his rough fingers felt against your skin. Coryo’s voice hardened slightly, and the sense of authority had you sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. “Answer me, sweetheart."

"I wanted you to think of me, Coryo." You reached out and brushed a stray curl from his forehead. “I love knowing you're thinking about me."

"Oh, baby, I'm always thinking about you." His eyes raked over your body and you suddenly felt naked under his gaze. “But I think, after your little stint earlier, getting me so hard in the car and then having me walk through a crowd like that where you knew people would see, you need to be punished."

"Mm," You hummed. "And what would my punishment be, President Snow."

Coryo practically growled upon hearing you call him that, the power of it all, and he gripped you roughly by the back of the neck and slammed his lips onto yours, a clash of teeth and tongue, so rough, so hot. "I wasn't going to do this, but, I have to take care of this," He pointed to his clothed, but very obvious erection. "So, be a good girl and bend over that railing for me, will you?"

"What?" Your voice was blunt and your eyes wide. Never had Coryo asked you to do anything of the sort. You were all for commands in the bedroom, in the kitchen, even in the car, but he'd never been so public about it. "Coryo, there are so many people out there. Someone could walk in."

"I don't care, sugar, I'm the President now, remember?" His fingers had curled around your chin, tilting it upwards for you to look at him. “Don't you think it's my right to be able to fuck my wife wherever I please?"

You felt a wetness pooling between your legs at the sound of him calling you his wife, and at how horny he so obviously was, and so, slowly, seductively, you bent over the marble railing, overlooking a staircase and, below, another polished room. You pulled the skirt of your red, silk dress up past your thighs and over the curve of your ass, painfully slowly, never breaking eye contact with Coriolanus, who's mouth was hanging open and you could see his tongue gliding over his top teeth.

"That's it." He coed, positioning himself behind you and pushing your dress up even further, so that your waist and most of your back was on display now, too. He ran his hands over your exposed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. "That's my girl. If you're good, you'll get your reward later, yeah?"

"And what would my reward be?"

"I'll make you cum so many times you'll be seeing stars, darling, I promise." He bent over you, kissing your neck, “But, for now, let me fuck you, and keep yourself quiet. Can you do that?"

You didn't honestly think you could, you never managed to, even when you pressed a hand to your mouth, bit down on his shoulder or your wrist, your neighbours were still more than able to hear your whimpers and moans. But you nodded, anyway, too excited by his proposal for later on. "Good." He gently moved your hair off of your back and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. "Good girl."

He'd only unzipped his slacks and pushed your skimpy underwear to the side, but that was all he needed, and you were so wet that it made it easy for him to slide straight into you, both of your moans echoing around the hall as he did so.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours, and your moans, muffled by the palm of your hand, were so ludicrous, here in this huge, pure white room, that it made the experience a hundred times hotter, in your opinion. "You'll be a good girl for me now, won't you? After I've filled you up, you'll be my perfect girl, hmm?"

"Yes, Coryo!" A loud moan left your lips, which only lead Coriolanus to smack your ass once, something that he only did to warn you if you were getting too loud. "I'll be good, I promise."

He was bent fully over you, chest pressed against your back, cheek to your shoulder blade, and his lips being right at your ear had you getting close, every thrust of his hips, every whisper of your name or breathy moan, the way his hands continued to roam your body. "Coryo, I'm getting close." You whispered.

"Hold it. Didn't say you could cum, did I?" You began to protest, but he cut you off before you could even make your point, "You've been a bad girl, and you need to take your punishment seriously. Do you understand?"

You went quiet, the idea of him fucking you, getting you so close only to pull you back, had you lost for words. His hand found your neck, and he squeezed his fingers around it gently, making you cry out in pleasure, "I said, do you understand?"

"Yes! Yes, Coryo, I understand." You whined, "You feel too good."

"Gonna cum." He warned, and only a few seconds later, his hips stuttered against you and he stifled an especially guttural groan against your shoulder as you felt warm ropes of cum filling you up.

His whole body shuddered, and he pressed his face as far into your back as it could go, breathing heavily. When he pulled out of you, leaving you bent over the railing, throbbing and clenching around nothing, a few drops of cum dropped down your leg, and he felt his cock twitching just at the sight.

"It's taking everything in me not to make you cum right here, trust me, sweetheart." Coryo tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear when you finally managed to stand up - albeit wobbly - and then immediately began fussing over his own hair. "But you need to wait, you understand that, don't you? Need to prove to me you can be good."

"I will, Coryo." You helped him out with his hair, smoothing it gently. "Promise."

"Good girl." He helped you to pull your dress down and fix your underwear, and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I'll have to go back out there. Try not to murder Livia for me, okay?"

Coryo opened the door, so that you could both go and rejoin your respective parties, but your legs were shaking so badly you found yourself hardly able to stand, nevermind walk. Coriolanus smirked at this, watching you smugly.

He fixed out his suit jacket, and then leaned in for one last kiss. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"See you soon, President Snow."

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow

2K notes · View notes

hajoon-iz-won · 2 months

Text

Magnetic Force of a Man

smut 18+ mdni

Pairing: ceo!Jay x worker!Y/N

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, dom!Jay, impregnation, dirty talk, fingering, pussy fucking, female masturbation, age gap (4 years), exhibitionism, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.4k

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I cursed as I stared down at the tear in my brand new sheer pantyhose. "Run-proof my ass! "

Shaking my head in dismay, I quickly looked around the large underground parking garage, praying to God that no one could see or hear me as I hurriedly positioned myself between my front door and the driver's seat of my beige sedan, hiking my lavender pencil skirt up to my ass, and then slid the ruined pair of hose the rest of the way down my legs.

Thankfully, I packed an extra pair!

I sat down on the side of the car seat and removed my violet high heels, almost like I was pulling out the replacements, taking them from the packing and quickly began slipping my feet inside.

The voice of a man said abruptly, "Yes, that's right."

My breath caught in my throat, I paused and turned to see the source of the voice. I was stunned by what I saw and halted abruptly, my new pantyhose halfway up my legs.

He had a great appearance. He was sitting at least fifty feet away from me, yet I could still see the platinum shine of his watch as he raised his left arm to check the time. He was dressed elegantly in a navy blue suit. His shiny black low-cut hair must have reached at least five eleven" in height.

With a dark satchel clasped in his right hand, he confidently walked towards the elevator labeled "PRIVATE." His broad shoulders, confident gait, and commanding presence evoked the image of a male model seen in GQ publications. His whole demeanor was confident.

I could tell that he was chatting to someone else and not about me or my pantyhose dilemma when a blue light blinked next to his ear. He never even gave me a sidelong glance.

I eventually snapped back to reality as he slid behind one of the pillars and finished pulling on my pantyhose. I tucked my skirt in and put my stilettos back on, eager to begin my first day of training as an executive assistant for Park Industries within the enormous, imposing Park Business building. (It seems the corporation required more than one because it was so large.)

I'd never seen or heard of Jay Park, the CEO of the company, before applying for this job. Even though I had looked him up online, all the pictures I could find of him included him wearing dark sunglasses and hats, which made me think he was probably a very secretive person. It appeared that he would much rather maintain a very low profile than be in the spotlight.

Nothing could have prepared me for the day I visited the Park Building for the first time, even though I had finished an internship at a Fortune 500 corporation close to my college campus.

My first interview had been with a woman named Son Eunsaem. She'd had a highly professional appearance and a no-nonsense attitude. She hadn't smiled once during the interview.

I was surprised when I got a call back for a second interview. That was where I met the other executive assistants. Park Industries had an executive assistant for each and every department in the company, and I had applied to the marketing department.

And I started working on the actual job today. At nine o'clock, I had my official orientation meeting, and then I was meant to meet with Jay Park, the company's CEO.

On their first day of work, all new hires were required to meet with the CEO, who was said to like having face-to-face meetings with each and every one of his staff members. I'll admit that I was anxious, but I was also interested to see this billionaire's true appearance.

The thirty-story building housed the marketing department on its twenty-fifth floor. At the orientation, there was another new hire in addition to me. Ryu Hanbin was his name, and he had been employed in the software department.

At orientation, our ID cards were issued to each of us. We were granted entry to the elevators, break facilities, and exits reserved for employees only. My heart started to race inside my chest as the orientation was coming to a conclusion.

Hanbin and I were taken to a private employee elevator and showed how to use our ID cards to operate it. Jay Park's office was on the top floor, and that's where our orientation leader, a middle-aged woman named Won Chaerin, led us up.

As the elevator door opened at the pinnacle floor, we had been greeted with the aid of using a short, stout, but very neat and well-groomed bald guy with a cleanly-shaven face in a vibrant purple pantsuit.

"Welcome to Park Land,” he stated with a welcoming grin as he reached out to shake our hands. "That's what we name the pinnacle floor, right here." He appeared to laugh after each sentence he spoke. “My call is Jinyoung, however all of us right here calls me Jin.” Another laugh.

What a unusual guy, I thought.

He led us down a hallway that ended with a reception table and a small living room area. There had been high-returned black leather-based chairs and a large flat-display tv withinside the ready area. There additionally regarded to be a bar of a few kind in the back of the reception table.

"Y'all can simply make yourselves comfortable whilst I allow Mr. Park recognize you are right here,” he instructed us with every other laugh earlier than sashaying returned to his spot in the back of the reception table.

"Thank you,” I instructed him as I took a seat in one of the leather-based chairs and crossed my legs.

As I sat ready, my heart commenced to overcome so rapid that it felt like it'd leap up out of my throat at any second. A stolen look over at Hanbin noticed his foot nervously tapping in opposition to the carpeted floor, and I felt relieved that I wasn't the simplest worried individual withinside the room.

A second later, the telephone on Jin's table rang, and he spoke back it on speaker.

"Send Ms. Y/L/N in first,” the voice said in a deep, authoritative tone.

"Right away, sir," Jin answered as he glanced over towards me.

I stood up and accompanied him down but every other lengthy hallway, with stylish artwork lining the partitions and porcelain statues each few feet.

At the quit of the hall, there has been a fancy-searching door with a platinum door knob.

"Knock, knock,” Jin said in a singsong-like voice as he knocked on it twice before turning the knob and pushing it open. “Ms. Y/L/N, meet Mr. Jay Park.”

He waited for me to step inside the large, elaborately decorated office before shutting the door behind me.

I stood there, with my back to the door and my orientation folder in my hand, not sure what to do next. Mr. Park had his head down and was doing something on his phone, but as soon as the door closed, he looked directly up at me, and my jaw almost hit the floor in utter awe.

Jay Park was none other than the sexy, model-esque man who'd been walking through the employee parking garage earlier.

I knew I was staring, but I didn't care. The man was a real-life Adonis.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N. Come. Have a seat.”

It was more of an order than a request, but I didn't mind. He had the most hypnotizing pair of eyes. They were a deep, dark br, and I felt as if I could get lost in them if I stared too long.

He didn't smile, but he didn't frown. He was eyeing me curiously as I made my way over to the chair in front of his huge, rectangular desk. I felt as if he was sizing me up for something... something other than just this job position.

"So, Ms. Y/L/N, you are twenty-four and you have an MS in Business Management. Impressive. What are your plans in the next five years?”

I felt completely on the spot. I cleared my throat before speaking.

"Well, I'm hoping to be working a job I love, maybe get promoted, and start moving up in the ranks."

"Hmm," he said quietly.

I leaned forward a bit and noticed that he had a folder open with my resume, cover letter, and some photos of me inside.

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

My heart sped up and began to beat harder than ever. He had removed his suit jacket, and his white silk shirt hugged his toned upper body with flair, accenting the broadness of his shoulders.

I shook my head and swallowed hard as my body temperature began to rise. No man had ever had such a profound effect on me. I could actually feel heat starting to build within my core and a noticeable tingling between my thighs.

He walked around to the back of my chair and stood behind me. My heart was beating a billion beats per minute.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

I shuddered at the feel of his breath against my lobe. My body was completely on fire for this man, and he hadn't even touched me. I was at a loss for words.

I wanted to glance up at him, but I was frozen in place like a stone statue, and all I could do was sit there facing forward as I waited to see what was going to happen next. From behind me, I heard him inhale deeply and then exhale slowly.

“Ahh, your perfume is intoxicating, but I sense something else about you, Ms. Y/L/N. You are in your prime,” he stated sensuously, his voice barely more than a whisper.

His lips were so close to my neck that his breath felt hot against my skin. It caused a shiver to run down my spine, and I had to muster every ounce of strength to keep a moan from escaping my lips.

Then, suddenly, he stood straight up and walked back around to the other side of his desk, and his demeanor had returned to a strictly professional one.

"Mrs. Son was quite impressed with you and spoke very highly of your interview," he said plainly as he sat back down in his chair.

"Really? Wow," I replied.

"You sound surprised," he said with a slight grin. "I know she can come across as somewhat ‘rigid, but it's all just part of how she does her job. She's extremely professional and would make an excellent poker player, no doubt.”

He chuckled slightly at his comment, and I uttered a small giggle as well.

"Well, I'm certain you'll be a definite asset to Park Industries, Ms. Y/L/N. Welcome to the team,” he said with a smile.

His smile revealed a set of the most perfect pearly whites I had ever seen up close. While staring at them, I almost missed the fact that he'd also extended his hand to me.

"Thank you, Mr. Park,” I said nervously, returning his smile with one of my own.

"You have a lovely smile, Ms. Y/L/N," he stated softly, still holding onto my hand after I'd stopped shaking it.

“Thanks,” I said coyly, tearing my eyes away from his before I became completely lost in them.

He ran his thumb slowly across the side of my hand before finally letting it go. That small, simple touch from him only added more fuel to the fire that was already building in my loins.

“Ms. Y/L/N? ”He called out to me just as I was about to leave his office.

"Yes?" I replied, turning around to look at him one more time.

"I'm having a small meeting this evening at the Italy Garden restaurant. The dress code is semi-formal. Can you be ready by 7:00?”

"Uhh, yes. Certainly, Mr. Park,” I replied, caught completely off guard.

"Great. I'll send a car to your place at 7:00, then.”

I left his office feeling flustered in more ways than one. It had been more than a year since I'd last had sex, and my attraction to Mr. Park was anything but subtle. He had a magnetic effect on me, one that I knew I was incapable of fighting.

I walked swiftly down the hall, past the small lounge where Hanbin was still seated, and into the ladies' restroom directly adjacent to Jin's reception desk. Breathing hard, I went into one of the stalls, set my folder down on the back of the commode, hiked my skirt up to my waist, and yanked my pants down to my thighs.

Panting like an animal in heat, I sat down on the seat and spread my legs.

"Mmm," I muttered as I closed my eyes and placed my right hand on the crotch of my thin satin pants.

Yanking my pants to the side, I exposed my moist, partially-swollen bud and began to massage it. Another moan escaped my lips as I bucked my hips and rubbed my pussy faster and harder.

I imagined that Mr. Park was in the bathroom stall with me and that he had pulled my pants to the side. It was his lips and tongue against my throbbing, swollen bulb, causing sighs and moans of delight to escape my mouth and sending me into a frenzy of pleasure.

“Ohhh,” I murmured softly as I pictured him rubbing the head of his hard, pulsating cock against my slick, hot slit.

I imagined his hands grabbing my ass cheeks and squeezing them hard in a fit of primal, uncontrollable passion. I pictured him entering me slowly at first, until his rock-hard dick was deep inside my pussy, stretching me to the limit.

"Fuuuck," I whispered as I plunged my fingers as deep into my warm, wet tunnel as they would go. "Yesss! Fuck me, Mr. Park!"

I imagined his cock moving in and out of me, faster and harder, fucking like wild animals as we both got closer and closer to our climaxes. Completely and totally engulfed in how unbelievably good the sex felt, neither one of us even cared that we were fucking unprotected.

"I want you to cum inside me, Mr. Park,” I imagined telling him. “Oh fuck, yessss! Cum in my pussy! Fill me up with your cum."

I didn't even care if I got pregnant or not; I just needed to feel his hot cum inside of me.

I was right on the brink of my orgasm, and I could already tell it was going to be a really good one. As I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out in pleasure, I pictured myself biting down on Mr. Park's ear to stifle my passion-filled moans.

My legs began to shake, and my hips bucked uncontrollably as a powerful climax wracked my entire body. I imagined Mr. Park squeezing my ass cheeks hard as his cock squirted into my cunt, filling me to the brim.

"Ohhh," I whispered, uttering a sigh of satisfaction as my orgasm began to wane.

After taking a moment to enjoy the afterglow, I quickly cleaned myself up, left the restroom, and headed back down to the 25th floor to finish out my workday.

I had just finished putting on my makeup when I noticed it was 6:45. The dress I had selected for tonight's meeting was a long, form-fitting silver cocktail gown I'd bought last spring. It was elegant, with a touch of sex appeal. The back dipped below the waist, and the front wrapped around the neck.

At 6:54, I heard a horn blow outside of my apartment. I slid into a pair of silver stiletto sandals, grabbed a small silver purse, and headed outside.

"Wow!" I exclaimed when I saw the pearly white stretch limousine waiting at the curb.

A tuxedo-clad chauffer opened my door for me and helped me into the back seat.

The inside of the limousine was immaculate! There was a fully-stocked bar with liquor, wine, and champagne. There were wine glasses on a glass shelf next to the bar. There was also a small fridge with fruits, cheeses, and other exotic-looking snack foods.

I helped myself to a glass of champagne and turned on the satellite radio to listen to on the way to the restaurant.

When we arrived about twenty minutes later, the chauffeur helped me out of the limo, and I walked inside. An older male host in a black and white suit was standing at a podium near the entrance.

"Good evening, Madam. Welcome to the Italy Garden restaurant. Do you have a reservation?” he asked.

“Umm, yes. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here for a dinner meeting with Mr. Jay Park,” I replied anxiously, trying hard to hide how nervous I truly was.

The five-star dining facility was way out of my league and price range. I had never been in a place so upscale and fancy. There were scores of expensive-looking pictures hanging on the walls and exquisite artifacts and statues in and around the corners.

I followed the host to a luxurious VIP balcony area where Jay Park was already seated and waiting for me.

"You look amazing, Ms. Y/L/N," he said, flashing that billion-dollar smile that made me want to melt right where I stood.

"Thank you," I replied shyly, returning a smile his way.

The host pulled out my chair, and I sat down.

"I've taken the liberty to order us a bottle of the finest champagne this place has to offer,” he told me with a grin. “What are you in the mood for?”

I couldn't pronounce a single dish on the menu.

"I'll have whatever you're having," I said softly, closing my menu and setting it to the side. I didn't want to risk embarrassing myself in front of our waiter.

"This champagne is delightful," I exclaimed before taking another sip.

"Only the best for a woman as perfect as you, Y/N," Jay stated sweetly.

It was the first time he'd ever called me by my first name. I could feel my cheeks reddening as I smiled somewhat sheepishly.

"So where are the rest of the meeting attendees?” I asked inquisitively as I glanced around the area we were seated in.

"This meeting is just for you and me, Y/N," Jay said in a sultry tone of voice. "There's something about you, Y/N, that drives me crazy. Ever since you walked into my office, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

I felt the same way about him. He was definitely the most attractive, magnetic, and alluring man I had ever met. I was just too shy to tell him so.

Dinner was absolutely incredible. The food was delicious, and I'd probably had a bit more champagne than I'd actually intended to drink. After a perfect meal, Jay led me back out to the limousine, and we both got into the backseat.

As we talked about our backgrounds, childhoods, and future plans while drinking top shelf champagne, I suddenly remembered that I hadn't even asked him where we were headed. Before I could even form the words to inquire, the limo slowed to a stop.

"Where are we?" I asked, just as the chauffeur opened the door.

“My place,” Jay replied with a grin. “I hope that's okay with you. There's something I want to show you."

Normally, I would have thought twice about going to the home of a man I'd just met, but there was just something about Jay that made him all but irresistible to me.

His house was beyond magnificent. The outside of it took up damned-near an entire city block, and the front yard stretched out around the sides of the house. There was a huge, circular, paved driveway at the front, and the limo had stopped directly in the middle.

I couldn't even imagine what it was he wanted to show me. I felt both excited and anxious simultaneously.

Taking my hand inside his, he proceeded to lead me through his humongous residence, showing me all of the different paintings and other extraordinary decor and informing me of the countries from which they'd been ordered. Finally, we came to this nice, dimly lit room with a beautiful faux fireplace against the rear wall. My eyes widened in amazement as we entered the romantic-looking space hand-in-hand.

"Wowww!" I exclaimed, as I had done several hundred times since we'd first gotten out of the limo. "This room is so..."

“Enchanting? ”Jay stated in a questioning tone, finishing my exclamation for me.

"Yeah! Definitely!” I agreed as I looked around in bewilderment.

There was a bar counter in the far left area of the room and what appeared to be a fully-stocked mini bar behind it. A lavish-looking cream-colored sectional sofa was in the middle of the space, facing the fireplace, and there was a huge matching rug laid out in front of it.

Just as I was about to remove my shoes out of respect for the rug, the lights suddenly dimmed lower, and about a hundred faux candles all lit up simultaneously. Also, smooth, relaxing, slow music immediately began to play. The candlelight appeared to dance to the beat of the music.

I was totally speechless and utterly astonished. I had never seen anything like it before. I glanced over at Jay, who had already removed his own shoes and was filling two wine glasses at the built-in mini bar.

"Please, have a seat, Y/N,” he said amorously, nodding toward the sectional.

I sat down and continued to enjoy the ambiance of the supremely romantic setting until he soon came over to join me and placed a glass of champagne in my hand.

"So? Do you like it?" he asked after taking a sip of his drink.

"Like it? This is absolutely amazing!" I said with a huge grin.

"I'm glad you think so. I've never brought any woman into this room until tonight.

"I find that extremely hard to believe,” I said honestly."

I may be a lot of things, Y/N, but I am definitely not a liar,” he asserted. “Men like me don't have to be in order to get what we want."

“Now that, I absolutely do believe,” I replied with a grin. “So, what is it that you want with me? ”

"Ahh, the billion-dollar question," he said sultrily.

Just then, a very popular song began to play.

"Ohh, I love this song!" he said excitedly as he stood up and held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

I didn't refuse. He pulled me upward and into his strong arms, and I wrapped mine around his neck. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and pressed my body against his as we swayed to the music. Caught up in the moment, I felt like I could stay in his arms like that forever.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away for a moment and looked deep into my eyes.

“Y/N, you have it all. I adore your womanly physique, your stunningly bright brown eyes, and the fact that you are a very intelligent young woman. You are damned-near flawless. From the very first moment you walked into my office, I have had an undeniable, overwhelming attraction to you, and I know you feel it too."

I was completely speechless. I mean, what was I supposed to say? How do you even reply to a statement like that?

In all honesty, I was just as attracted to him as he was to me, but with him being both my boss and such a wealthy, sophisticated man, I think I felt a little bit intimidated. I'd never imagined myself being wined and dined with a billionaire Adonis like him.

I just kind of stood there, gazing into his tantalizing eyes like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

"Y/N,” he whispered as he suddenly spun me around so that he was behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Yes," I whispered back to him as the feeling of his warm breath against the nape of my neck instantly made me moist between my thighs.

I moaned as his soft lips brushed against the lobe of my him,. My body was instantaneously on fire for him and he had barely touched me.

"I want you," he whispered as his manly hands found my breasts and cupped them through the thin fabric of my cocktail dress.

The tips of his fingers found my nipples, causing another moan to escape my mouth. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, and then suddenly, my dress slid carelessly to the floor. I was braless, and this seemed to turn Jay on even more.

He groaned as I felt his manhood begin to stiffen against my ass.

"Y/N, you're fucking perfect,” he said gruffly, his voice raspy against my ear. “I want you. And you want me, too, don't you?

"Yes, Jay, yes," I moaned.

His hands squeezed my breasts, and I sighed loudly, arching my back. I felt his stiffening cock twitch in his pants.

"I'm twenty-eight years old, and I'm not getting any younger, Y/N. I've been looking for the right woman to bear my offspring, and you are the perfect specimen. I know you probably walked into the Park building today with your own plans and aspirations for your career and whatnot, but I have to be honest with you; I want you to bear my children.”

It was a lot to take in. He had certainly said a mouthful. I wasn't so sure about having kids with a man I'd just met, but he was definitely different from any other man I'd ever met, and odds were that I'd probably never meet anyone quite like him again.

His right hand slid down my midsection and into the front of my satin pants. I hissed with delight, biting down on my lip to stifle my cry of pleasure. He was applying just the right amount of pressure to my bud, and I was grinding my crotch against his hand.

"Don't hold back, Y/N,” he ordered in a breathy voice. “Let it all out!”

With that, he slid two fingers inside my dripping-wet pussy. I thrust my hips forward and let out a cry.

“Fuck, your pussy is already so wet for me! ”He declared with a grunt, pressing his erection against my ass.

Just as I was about to climax, he stopped, pulled his fingers out of my pants, and turned me around to face him. He put his fingers in his mouth and sucked my excitement out of them. My face flushed with need.

Then he pushed me down onto my knees as he undid his pants, releasing his stiff, throbbing cock. It was large—larger than I'd expected. It was definitely the biggest dick I'd ever seen in my twenty-four years on this earth. But I didn't care. I was going to try my damnedest to swallow it whole.

I caressed the shaft as I slid my tongue around the tip of his cock, teasing it gently, and then sliding it down into my mouth as far as it would go. I sucked it slowly and easily at first, and then I took my hand and used it with the rhythm of my mouth, sucking it as hard and fast as I could.

Groans fell from Jay's lips as he grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth. Then suddenly, he stopped me.

Easing the rest of the way out of his pants, he pulled me up toward him again and kissed me passionately, using his tongue to invade my mouth hungrily. I moaned as he began to trail his lips and tongue down my neck, pausing to lick, suck, and fondle both of my breasts, and then continuing down my belly until he reached the top of my pants.

With his teeth, he worked my pants down over my hips and buttocks, letting them drop to the floor near my dress. He parted my thighs slightly, using his fingers to slide my folds apart and massage my bud. Then, his lips replaced his fingers against my moist, pulsating pussy, and I cried out in sheer passion.

He was so skilled and talented—his tongue was like a fucking vibrating sex toy! He grabbed and squeezed my ass with one hand and used the other to slide two fingers back inside my pussy. I couldn't take it anymore!

"Fucckkk, I'm going to cum, Jay! I'm going to cum...so...fucking..." I couldn't even finish my sentence. His fingers pressed against my g-spot, and his tongue darted fast and hard against my pussy, sending me completely over the edge with the most powerful, intense, earth-shattering orgasm I had ever experienced.

My entire body shuddered and shook, and my legs tensed up. I grabbed his head as my crotch jerked forward uncontrollably against his face.

"Shiiiiittt! Oh fuuuuck!" I screamed loudly, unable to speak any other words.

When my climax finally began to wane, just as I was about to catch my breath, Jay suddenly lifted my legs up on his shoulders and gently pushed me down onto the soft, cream-colored rug lying me down on my back.

Not wasting a second, he slid his huge, hard cock into me slowly, with my legs still hoisted up on his shoulders.

I moaned long and hard as he stretched me to my limit, sliding deeper into my pussy than any other man had ever been.

“Fuck, Y/N, your pussy's so tight and wet! ," he exclaimed, moaning as he began to thrust in and out of me, going deeper with every stroke.

I was moaning so loudly that I could barely even hear the music playing anymore. His own groans became louder and longer with every thrust of his burly hips.

I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck as he started fucking me harder and faster. It wasn't long before I felt a second orgasm building, getting closer and closer...

I still wasn't exactly certain about letting him impregnate me and make me the mother of his children, but the sex was fucking earth-shattering. I had never been fucked so good before! I felt his huge, stiff cock plunging in and out of me as I cried out in delirious pleasure.

Just as I was about to scream out loud, having reached my second powerful orgasm, he let out a loud, long groan, and I knew he was there, too. We were climaxing together simultaneously, and for a brief moment, it was like the two of us became one in our own world of bliss.

I felt his cock spurting his hot cum deep inside of me, filling my pussy to the brim, but it felt so fucking wonderful that I didn't give a shit. Besides, he was rich and handsome and could fuck like a damn machine.

As we finally came back to our senses, Jay kissed my lips as he slid out of me and plopped down on the rug beside me. The fake fire was still going, and the lights and music were still playing.

"That was, by far, the best sex I've ever had in my life,” I said breathily as I looked over at him.

"Me too," he said sultrily as he slid his arm beneath my neck.

With that, his eyes closed, as did mine, and we both drifted off into a satisfied slumber.

Jay and I continued to fuck like rabbits over the next few weeks, having hot, steamy, amazing sex every chance we got. And every time he came, he shot his hot cum deep inside of me.

Three weeks later, my pregnancy test came back positive. Jay was ecstatic, of course. At first, I had mixed emotions. I was going to become a mother. Was I really ready?

He immediately made me quit my job and put me in a beautiful condo with a view that overlooked the entire city. He found me the best doctors in the area and accompanied me to all of my prenatal appointments.

So I wouldn't be able to work for a while. I mean, babies don't stay babies. They eventually grow up into adults who can take care of themselves. Who knows? Once I've raised my kids, perhaps I'll still want to go back into the workforce.

For now, though, I think I'll just enjoy swelling with Jay's seed, growing rounder and riper by the day.

#enhypen smut #enhypen #enhypen jay #jay smut #park jongseong #park jay #jay park #jay x reader #enhypen jay smut #jay enhypen smut #18+ mdni

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kedsandtubesocks · 3 months

Text

dance away your cowboy blues

Country Singer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: who knew the man with the voice of an angel could break your heart this bad?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern/no outbreak AU & Joel has both his daughters, exes to lovers with eventual husband!Joel, angst followed up by good sweet fluff, concert venue, light drinking mention, Joel being stubborn & bad at feelings, hints of spice, fools in love, reader is addressed as ‘honey, darlin,’ use of song lyrics in fic, Pearl Jam & Taylor Swift song mentions, soft & heartbroken!Joel, lovesick!Joel

word count: 6k

a/n: here we are - the last installment in our ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series & I’m so incredibly grateful to finally make it here, also this is my mini tribute to our boy and his SAG award! The main song Joel sings is this one and I highly recommend! Thank you to my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you for letting me scream about plot holes & aiding my Joel brainrot, @tightjeansjavi for always being down to chat about Joel, and to @lowlights & @ahauntedcowboy for being my ever guiding forces for this series, thank you all… And finally to you reading this, thank you so much ♡

A year ago, Joel broke up with you on a warm early spring morning.

He arrived at your apartment, sat you down and shattered your world. You felt every range of emotion as he simply stood there like a man of steel.

So upset and angry, you wanted to rip your heart out and throw it at him.

Then later that week you found out his record was officially getting picked up and you crumbled.

Ending your relationship simply because he was about to step into true proper fame - you never took Joel to be a man so somberly callous. However, you began wondering if that’s what fame sometimes did to people.

When curiosity gnawed too hard, you’d Google him or even check Spotify. Simply catching glimpses of how big he’s gotten sent you spiraling. Last Thanksgiving, your favorite aunt threatened to lock your phone away when she found you upset in the bathroom after discovering Joel was performing at the Dallas Cowboys holiday game.

From that point on you refused to even check any amount of social media or update on him.

A few clunky first dates and a couple of ghosting experiences later, you’ve now decided to simply work on yourself and embrace the selfcare of being single.

It’s why when your best friend called you earlier today eagerly explaining how her parents had extra tickets to the Rodeo tonight, she playfully teased how she knew you didn’t have anything planned for this Saturday night.

You almost hung up on her, but you excitedly scrambled to get ready.

Now the smell of fried foods, popcorn, and beer cloud the air. The fairgrounds hold a chaotic but controlled lively energy. You never knew so many cowboy hats could exist in one space.

Once you meet up with your best friends' parents, you’re transported to a whole new area you never believed could exist during a rodeo. Lux and cozy, the VIP lounge gleams with its elevated experience. You knew your best friend’s mom worked for the construction company managing the arena. You just didn’t realize how big of a hookup it was. The VIP tickets allowed for full premium dining along with a couple of free drinks.

More importantly - it came with the best concert seats.

“In the dirt” is how they’re described because the tickets are literally stationed on the floor, in the dirt of the rodeo stadium, right by the stage.

Ecstatic and bubby energy now fills you. The food being served is divine and you gladly enjoy the free various drinks.

“So wait, did we figure out who’s performing?” You ask curiously while you lounge taking advantage of the nice seating area.

“Uh, I think my dad said it’s that band named Midland is performing today.” Your friend answers but then is quickly pulled away to meet more of her mom’s coworkers.

You’ve never heard of the band, but for a free concert you’re open to enjoy some live music.

It’s a trait you gained from Joel.

Because of him you grew to love music performances, the energy that comes with hearing the band, being among the hum of the crowd. The trips around Austin seeing not just him perform, but enjoying other concerts with him, let you appreciate and admire live shows.

Waiting for the concert allows you to enjoy some of the actual rodeo event. But the main performance of the evening soon arrives.

“You kids go enjoy! We’re getting a little too old and are just gonna stay back and enjoy the free food.” Your best friend’s mom grins with a wink.

The ticket advertisement wasn’t joking when it said close to the stage. The ground level truly sits on the dirt floor. The arena swallows you whole surrounding you like a strange fishbowl. A small crowd already lines the front railing closest to the stage. However sneakily you find a nice open spot by the side that gives a clear sight to the stage.

Even if you don’t know the band, giddiness bubbles in you electric.

You take in the massive general admission floor section already packed full. The band must be popular. So you take plenty of pictures and happily enjoy the time with your dear friend.

The lights dim and excitement crackles in the air. The stage lights up. The large backdrop screens on the stage flutter to life beginning to showcase different picturesque black and white shots of Texas.

Midland, you remember, is a city in Texas so the images make sense. A low strum of a guitar begins playing. The melody dances soft but in a quick beat, a hypnotic tune trying to rev up the crowd.

The tune brews up its intended magic that you even get swept up in the anticipation. The sound gets faster and the strumming is rather simple but so striking.

Then the music stops. Suddenly the lights of the entire stadium shut off. Wild galvanized screams erupt.

The lights brilliantly dance forth back to light. They all focus now on the performer who, like magic, now appears on the stage with the rest of the band.

And the lead singer is Joel.

Your knees almost give out.

Dressed in the most dangerous plaid green button up, it so simple yet beautifully compliments him. More grays pepper his beard and highlight his tousled curls. The brilliant stage lights bask him in a heavenly glow.

Your soul momentarily leaves your body the minute his voice sings his first note.

Instantly your best friend whips towards you panicked. She rapidly screams asking if you’re okay as she apologizes over and over.

“My dad must have gotten the dates wrong! God I should’ve fucking doubled checked or some shit!” She cries deeply apologetic and hurt.

You earnestly tell her it’s not her fault and it’s alright. It was just an unfortunate mixup.

“Do you wanna leave?” Your friend leans closer to you. Her eyes shine understanding and considerate. “We didn’t pay for these tickets and I promise you my parents will completely understand. We can say fuck it and bounce.”

You haven’t even completely processed it’s Joel. It’s like your brain went cloudy and now blinking out of the fog, your eyes return to the stage.

Joel isn’t an extroverted man. He’s reserved, quietly charming, even holds a gruff but poised grace. But right now, he’s an absolute sun on the stage. He’s radiant, naturally swaying to the music while singing his soul soul.

Maybe it’s the piece of you still horribly in love with him, or just the curiosity to see how this goes, whatever it is - you shake your head no.

“We can stay.”

Your best friend’s eyes go wide as saucers hearing your answer.

“Are you sure?” She presses and you nod your head.

“Yeah, let’s stay. Afterwards we can laugh about how old he’s gotten.” You laugh bitterly about him looking more aged even after a year.

When truthfully the stronger wrinkles around his face, the vibrant grays, all of his aging only intensifies his striking looks.

A canyon wide sized hole rips through your heart.

The song flutters to an end and the crowd claps with a thunderous roar. With a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder your dear friend nods then turns back to the concert.

You pray this isn’t the worst decision you’ve ever made.

Then Joel speaks.

“Howdy everyone,” his voice is still so devilishly thick and smooth as a shot of moonshine. His accent does his home state proud. The crowd absolutely adores him, screaming loud just hearing him speak.

“Thank y'all for comin’ out tonight. I’m Joel Miller and m’here to sing y’all a few songs.” So simple, casually eased, and it’s so Joel.

His gruff southern charm made you fall in love with him so fast and now it’s a unique brand of magic charming everyone under his spell.

Joel strums a few notes, rapidly shifting the tune and transitions into the next song.

You now fully soak in Joel.

He seems otherworldly, a god of music reincarnated as a Texan cowboy. You think back to the days sitting in his living room and listening to him play. You were honored to see that side of him, to hear him strum to life so much magic.

During the holiday’s Joel’s daughters, Ellie and Sarah, would often pester him to sing silly songs. He’d grumpily obliged but you knew he basked in their attention and love.

He loved to sing. You always knew he was destined for the stage like it was woven into his veins.

You still remember the day one of Joel’s acoustic performances blew up online gaining so much attention. The excitement and absolute joy you felt then still lingers in the corners of your heart. Although, those feelings have been gathering cobwebs.

There’s of course a bitterness seeing him, but also, an unbearably small twinkling pride knowing he’s here living his dream. The song finishes and again the stadium rumbles in applause.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” Joel asks and your heart jumps hearing his voice again.

The crowd cheers back at him.

“Good good, let’s keep it goin’.” He yells back and then strums the guitar sharp.

That’s when the stage slowly starts moving.

It’s slow but with the surprise purpose to look out to the entire crowd. For some reason you almost laugh thinking of that man, who couldn’t even remember how to FaceTime on his ipad, on a full rotating platform.

However, the lyrics start and you realize he’s singing a heartbreak ballad.

If you’re going out with someone new, I’m going out with someone too…I won’t feel sorry for me, I’m getting drunk but I’d much rather be somewhere with you…

It’s hard hearing him now with how exhilarated the crowd screams at the stage moving. But you try to hear how the rest of the song unfolds.

At the chorus, your throat tightens.

I can go out every night of the week, can go home with anybody I meet, but it’s just a temporary high… ‘cause when I close my eyes, I’m somewhere with you

The words sting every inch of you, but you believe it has to be just a simple heartbreak story and isn’t about you, isn’t directed at you. Yet the words feel like sharpened edges of a broken mirror that seem to reflect every moment of your time with him.

Then the stage rotates to your side of the floor.

There’s no way he can see you or will even spot you. There’s a whole crowd stretching before him. You’re just a fish in a sea of fans.

Joel continues strumming, allowing his voice to so beautifully carry the emotion.

The stage, in its slow movement, is now front and center to your line of sight. Some girls at the very direct front of the railing scream and wave frantically at him.

A small smile tugs at Joel’s lips as he waves back. Joel’s eyes scan the rest of the crowd -

And that’s when he spots you.

Quickly, you rationalize he could be staring out behind you at someone else alongside the side railing.

But Joel’s eyes even narrow trying to focus more. Your gaze stays on him, like something inside of you refuses to waiver.

His eyes flicker with realization then turn into full moons.

He knows it’s you.

Joel continues singing the chorus but emotions cloud his face. His brows are furrowed hard, almost confused like he’s trying to really comprehend what’s going on.

You understand. You’d be so confused too if you were in his position. You’re still even baffled as to why you stayed in the first place.

The stage starts shifting back to the main center direction

But Joel cranes his face to the side, refusing to have his eyes leave.

His focus stays on you.

It’s obvious enough that your best friend now shakes your body.

“Is he staring at you?!” She tries to whisper but she ends up partly screaming.

You think maybe it’s a hallucination.

Yet Joel’s deep inky eyes stubbornly stay locked on you as he sings now.

If you see out on the town and it looks like I’m burning it down, you won’t ask and I won’t say… but in my heart I’m always somewhere with you…

Your world twists warped, melting into a sea of so many emotions you can’t stay afloat.

Joel finishes his song and the crowd enthusiastically cheers. Yet, it sounds muffled as a numbness crawls over you like a thick soupy fog.

You should leave. You need to. But you’re here now. And decide to see the end of this. If he’s singing about someone lingering within him, then you might as well make true to those lyrics.

Joel lowers his face for a moment and shakes his head. The mic faintly picks up his cough of a disbelieving laugh and your heart sinks.

“Alright folks, let’s jam.” He announces composed and brings his guitar to life.

He’s beautiful walking around with it. Strums effortlessly until he shifts from one guitar, his classic, to a more sleek all black styled one.

Joel lets the music and band take over while he makes the switch. He also leans in to whisper something to the stage hand.

Then as if nothing, Joel steps back into the limelight and illuminates the stage.

He walks around freely now that the stage stopped rotating. The current song is lively with a great beat and you hate how badly you want to bounce around to its infectious sound and the way Joel’s voice elevates the tune.

Caught up in the melody, you don’t notice until it’s too late. Joel walks over to the side of the stage directly facing you.

The guitar carries a large piece of this song’s bridge allowing his eyes to flicker across the crowd.

Until they return to your gaze. Stuck in his stare, Joel suddenly cocks his chin towards you.

Most of the crowd around you screams at his simple action. Even your best friend yells out a loud ‘holy shit’ but you stay quiet.

Not knowing how to react, all you do is stupidly shrug.

It’s awful, not even the best reaction you can give.

But Joel barks a laugh, a true laugh that thankfully happens at the tail end of the song, but your knees go weak.

You made him laugh.

On stage.

Heartache finds its way back into your system fiercer than ever and it poisonously tastes of adoration as well.

Joel transitions into another song. This time moving around the stage more towards the other side.

Yet, either his eyes flicker back to you, or he ends up walking to your section.

A part of you wonders if he’s doing this now to mock you, almost showing off how good he is knowing you’re here. You don’t believe Joel would be that heartless, but you hate how that option still lingers.

“He’s been walking over here a lot.” Someone even behind you even notices.

“Well he is old.” Someone yells back. “Maybe he’s just trying to keep his joints in shape.”

You almost want to snap back that he’s looking damn good for his age and in good enough shape that he kept you bent like a pretzel for practically a whole weekend, but you swallow back the protective bite.

You simply go back to enjoying the show, and it’s fantastic. You can’t deny that. Joel is a performer, keeps the crowd focused and engaged. He isn’t showy or dramatic but takes control of his presence on stage.

You think of the days seeing him at small bars around town, sitting on a stool playing till his heart's content.

Then he booked Stubb’s in Austin and when you watched him own that stage - you knew this was meant for him.

You’re reminded of that so vividly tonight.

“Alright, gettin’ to the end here.” He announces and the crowd sounds heartbroken.

“I know, i know,” he coos back soft and low. “But just wanted to say y’all have been lovely.”

So many shrill shrieks crack in the room and you almost roll your eyes.

Your best friend snickers beside you. “Gotta give it to him, man can work a room.”

She’s right of course. Though it’s still so surprising for a man grumpily reserved and introverted at times.

“This next one I hope maybe some of y’all will know.”

He strums the cords to Pearl Jam’s ‘Alive.’

What gained Joel traction online was his renditions and covers of various songs. He added his own country twang and twist to all the songs he covered.

Pearl Jam happened to be one of Ellie’s favorite bands. A hollow nostalgia rip through you, thinking of the two girls you miss.

The crowd ignites recognizing the familiar rock ballad now turned into the tune of a country song by Joel’s touch. He owns the solo and his husky voice melts into the lyrics beautifully.

Under your breath you sing along. You used to sing along when you cooked breakfast at his place or during drives with him and the girls.

It’s a beautiful fondness, yet one still barbed and so aching.

The song ends with the intense but small burst of fireworks that has the stadium cheering. You even clap.

“Appreciate y’all.” He addresses the crowd. “That’s a one of my daughter’s favorites so always means a lot when I get to play it.”

A smile you can’t fight tugs at your lips at the mention of Ellie.

“Now my daughters, they’re like night ‘n day.” Joel continues and your heart fills up so overwhelming fast for those girls.

“One of them, like I said, loves some Pearl Jam. Now my other daughter…” Joel pauses.

“She’s a big fan of someone by the name of Taylor Swift.”

The crowd absolutely explodes and you think you even feel the arena shake. Sarah honestly was a big fan and Ellie loved to tease her about it so much.

“Normally for this next and final song, I’d play ‘‘shake it off.’” Joel had a few songs of hers that he covered. That one was a fan favorite.

“But tonight, I'm itchin’ to play somethin’ else.” He continues.

You even perk up curious.

“So let’s end this on a high note, yeah? Sing along if you know this one.” Joel concludes.

Then the drums begin and the song bursts to life.

The stadium swims in a dizzying frantic energy.

The way Joel sings, he’s pouring his heart out. He’s memorizing. Utterly heart wrenching.

This is the finale, the end of this strange unreal dream you’ve wandered into. You wonder if he feels it too.

The song’s chilling bridge comes and Joel walks to stare directly at you.

I thought I had you figured out, can’t breathe whenever you’re gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted…

His eyes never leave yours.

The lyrics sear through your heart. You think about screaming the song to back him. He’s the one who left, the one who’s ghost lives among your ribs.

Then Joel hits the final high note, lets his voice carry the powerful finale, and the crowd roars in earth shaking excitement.

It’s magical, magnetic and utterly devastating in both the best and worst ways. Another few sets of indoor fireworks go off and the show ends.

Joel wishes the crowd a beautiful night and you’re left in a tangled web of emotions.

Your best friend immediately turns to see if you’re okay. While the crowd starts leaving, you and her take a moment. Out of the edge of your focus, you notice a crew member of the arena approaching the side of the rail. You don’t think anything of it.

“Excuse me,” until that crew member stands in front of you on the other side of the barrier.

Blinking absolutely confused you turn towards the man.

“I’ve been asked to escort you backstage.” He explains and your best friend gasps.

You wonder if the ground opened below and dropped you into a free fall.

Quickly you stammer out that you couldn’t. There's no way. Maybe the man must’ve mistaken you for someone else.

“Mr. Miller said you’d say something like that.” The crew member says reaching into his pocket to hand you something.

It’s a keychain.

Not just any keychain, but the one you gave Joel.

It’s a cartoon armadillo, dressed up as a cowboy, holding a guitar. When you first saw it you immediately thought of Joel. His daughters got a kick over it, giggled at how cute it was, and your heart had bursted when you saw it constantly among his keys.

Now the worn little cowboy creature sits waiting for you. It’s sweet marble like eyes stare up at you like a day hasn’t gone by since you gave Joel this.

Your best friend gasps, maybe not fully recognizing the keychain but understanding the significance.

You ask the crew member if your friend can maybe accompany you backstage, but he shakes his head a sad no.

“Then I…I can’t.” You shakily breathe out.

“Yes you can!” She interjects. “You gotta at least hear him out!”

You turn to her and find determination fiercely burning in her eyes as she nods.

“But what about you? I don’t want you or your parents waiting around for me.” You urge.

“Don’t worry about me or especially about them!” She reassures, even offering to wait for as long as you need.

You’re grateful, unbearably so and embrace her tight.

“You call me if he gets stupid. I don’t care backstage or not, I’ll go get you.”

You laugh watery at her well meaning threat and thank her. With a quick sweet goodbye, you follow the crew member along the rails until exiting.

The walk out to the backstage area fills you with a hurricane of emotions. What else could Joel say to you? A part of you wonders if he’s going to be cruel about this, having you simply show up to his dressing room just to laugh so arrogant and smug about how wonderfully famous he is now.

No, Joel isn’t that type of man.

Or you hope fame hasn't warped him into that type of man. Arriving at the green room door, your heart races loud in your ears.

The crew member knocks and before you can compose yourself, Joel opens the door.

He’s bathed in the golden amber light of the backstage room. It highlights all those grays again but also illuminates more of the time passed on his face. More winkles line against his eyes and when he fully stares at you, you wonder how different you might look in his eyes.

A jackrabbit like urge rushes over you to maybe flee, call your best friend to come get you.

“Thanks for comin’,” he mutters out. “Was worried ya wouldn’t show.”

You want to bitterly joke that you didn’t want to, but the armadillo keychain you hang onto holds the truth.

The door closes leaving you and Joel alone. Awkward stale air chokes the space.

You simply keep your attention on examining the room. His classic weathered jacket rests thrown over the couch. The rider is stacked with so many classic Joel snacks like his favorite jerky, popcorn, and even a few familiar favorite treats his daughters love.

Then your eyes catch the mug on the counter and you grin softly.

It must be filled with Joel’s classic drink - chamomile and ginger tea with honey for his throat.

“It’s…yeah. That’s it.”

You didn’t even realize you said anything out loud until Joel replies casuing your heart to jump. Finally your eyes find his.

It's a curse that your greatest heartbreak is this handsome. Exhaustion weighs in you and feels ancient, like if you carry the sum of so many lifetimes before.

“So…You wanted to talk to me?” You speak first, trying to keep yourself strong.

“I…uh yeah.” Answering so cryptically, his shoulders deflate. “How ya been?”

“Good.” You answer simple, curt almost.

There’s too many things that could’ve slipped out if you said anything more. Like how you selfishly kept one of his shirts and hate that the smell of him on it has faded like a wistful memory. Or how you can barely listen to Dolly Parton or Johnny Cash anymore because you’re reminded of Joel singing along to their songs.

So you turn the conversation back to him.

You ask how the girls are and Joel perks up, eyes shimmering with fatherly pride.

“Good, yeah they’re good. Uh, Ellie’s playing softball for the school again ‘n Sarah’s busy with student council. They’re still just bossin’ me all around.”

“As usual.”

You both say the same line at the same time and it chokes you up.

Joel inhales and his lips press tight, a hard line. The air tightens. No one says anything and now annoyance, frustration and maybe even a bit of panic claw at you.

“Joel, why am I here?” You ask him again.

Sighing, so weary and tired, he looks down.

Feels like ages pass between you and him. The faint noise of the stadium leaks into the room muffled.

You think of your best friend waiting and of your own heart waiting to end this.

“Look, it was good to see you,” you half lie. “You did great, hope you and the girls take care”

You turn to walk out.

That’s when he blurts out your name and you stop.

“I miss you.” He exhales.

“Miss ya so g’damn much. Every fuckin’ day.” He mutters.

When you turn back around, he stares at you unwavering. You don’t know what to say.

“Seein’ ya out in the crowd…thought m’heart was gonna give out.” He barks a weak laugh.

“Almost stoppin’ the fuckin’ show just to make sure it was you… y’look beautiful as ever.” His eyes haze over slightly, almost nostalgic.

Suddenly a heated spark rips into your chest, jagged edged and angered.

“You broke up with me.” You snap, voice already raw.

“I know,” Joel nods. “Worst damn decision of m’life.”

Your lips tremble. Everything hurts like a live wire is burning up your veins.

“Then why? Why did you do it?” You croak. You want to scream, maybe even storm out and not even give him the chance to speak.

“What? Did Mr. Big Country Star hate having a partner that wasn’t famous too?” Venom leaks bitter and poisonous in your mouth, choking your throat.

“Y’know god damn well that ain’t it.” He snarls back hard.

“No actually I fucking don’t know Joel.” You reply with a fierce bite. “You so conveniently left out any real damn reason why you were breaking up with me.”

“I said our paths were going in separate directions.” He glares hard at you now.

“And that’s about it!” Your voice raises and you hate it.

The tears come quicker than you hoped for and you hate that more.

“No real explanation,” you exhale, wanting to stay as calm as you can. “You couldn’t even give me that…what else am I supposed to think?”

Even dabbing away your tears, your composure is slowly slipping.

“I couldn’t do this to you,” he breathes out and it’s broken. His eyes are shimmering obsidian pools.

“This life, all the fuckin’ mess that comes with dating someone in the limelight, I couldn’t just throw that on ya.” He explains and the truth rings out a quiet hum.

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?” You whisper out now hurt. “Joel, I thought we were a team.”

“We are- were.” He slips and corrects himself fast. “I just knew if we fuckin’ talked about it you wouldn’t have understood.”

“Understood what?” You’re frustrated and it leaks into your voice.

“That I didn’t want ya fuckin’ hatin’ me!” He finally screams the weighted truth.

Stunned quiet but still slightly confused, you ask Joel what he means.

Pain travels across Joel’s handsome face as his jaw clenches hard.

“This shit…it takes away a lot.” He croaks out. “Hell I’ve even missed things with the girls. Didn’t want ya sacrificin’ your life or wakin’ up one day and realizin’ how much you’ve lost ‘cause of me…couldn’t let myself do that to you.”

Your chest aches like a rocket got shot into you. You’re angry he took that chance for you to decide, but you understand.

Joel never wants to be the cause of pain to others, especially those he loves.

He agonizes so much over his decisions and how corrupting he believes he is. When in reality every action he takes you know simply stems from his endless deep devotion to keep those he loves safe.

His decision to end your relationship was him, in his own frustrating Joel way, trying to keep you safe. Even if it was from himself.

Your lips tremble and you cuss bitterly hard under your breath.

“You damn stupid man.” You hiccup. “I didn’t…I don’t care what life fame would’ve given me with you. I would never resent you. For better or worse I just wanted a life with you, that’s all I ever wanted.”

Through a few sobs, you wipe the tears fogging up your sight.

Before you can see it happening, strong sturdy arms suddenly wrap around you and shock you breathless. Curled in Joel’s arms, it’s like a sad coming home party and you cry even more.

“M’so sorry, my darlin’.” Joel whispers against your forehead.

“I hate you.” You don’t. Even on your hardest days, you never could.

“I know, hate my fuckin’ ass too.” Joel replies.

His arms squeeze you tighter.

“Never stopped lovin’ you. Never will.” His voice wavers and now your arms wrap around him.

“You left.” You whisper back so small while tears continue to prickle in your eyes.

“I know honeydew, ‘n I’ll never forgive myself for it.” He replies fiercely like a strike of lightning with its bright force. “Been a fuckin’ mess without ya. Tommy would be the first to agree and the girls too.”

You absorb his words, basking in the safe haven that is Joel. Hours, maybe days pass just in his arms.

“Please forgive me, baby.” He whispers hoarse against your head.

You nod a soft yes.

Because even the part of you that wants to yell and stubbornly say no knows the ultimate answer is, and always will be, him.

“Of course…I love you.” You mutter half dazed against his strong chest. “Love of my life.”

Pressed so close to him, you feel how hard he swallows and his arms squeeze you impossibly tighter against you.

He says your name and you hum out a soft noise.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes, which have sort of glazed over, snap open wide.

“What?” You mutter out, maybe think you misheard him.

“Marry me.” Joel repeats himself.

You practically squawk like a confused bird and scramble in his arms.

“Joel Miller, you can’t be serious?!” You shriek through the tears still lingering in your voice.

Your face snaps up to him. His face is composed, almost serene in a way as he look at you with molten eyes.

“Serious as that g’damn ring I bought ya.”

His words are a mumble but so soft and unwavering. Your soul leaves your body like you were thrown into a cold lake.

“You what?” You stammer out.

“Y’heard me.” He nudges his chin to you. “A ring. Bought it after you dropped everything to go take care of the girls when they got sick.”

Too many emotions overwhelm you and the tears return with a vengeance.

Joel, like a steady man in the storm, places his warm hand on your face to gather you back into his embrace. He places the softest kiss to the side of your head.

“We gotta have a chat about discussing your feelings with me more, Miller.” You manage to chide him through your tears.

“I know.” He mutters against your skin while he continues softly kissing you with utter tenderness. “‘N I’m not lettin’ ya go again.”

You squeeze him hard, trying to burn his memory into your arms worried you’re going to wake up and find this is just a heartbroken hallucination.

“Baby,” he begins.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me for the night.” He urges. “The bus got plenty of room-”

“Ooo, is this what you say to all your groupies, Mr. Miller?” You tease with a snort.

“Behave.” His hand playfully squeezes your hip but his underlying somber tone even with his chuckle ignites a familiar heat brewing in you of the times he’s reprimanded you like that before.

“No groupies.” Joel reassures you. “Only you sweetheart, only ever gonna be you.”

His words flutter into your heart and make a nest there.

Gently you draw back to stare at Joel. Your hand moves to his face, aching to just touch him. Even in his arms you’re waiting for him to vanish from your touch as if he’s a figment of your wrecked heart, a ghost of lovers past haunting you now.

But his stubble tickles against your palm. Running warm as usual, his face feels like a soft morning sun. Your thumb strokes his cheek and his eyes close, melting into your hold.

Gently you place a soft kiss against the corner of his lips.

Joel now tilts his head so he can deepen the kiss before you can even draw away.

It’s not a consuming passion that you expected. No frantic fierce clash of lips or an overflow from a year passed between you two.

Instead it’s a soft welcome home. It’s a kiss you’ve given him when he’s come home late or when you leave for work.

Because his blood, his soul, you believe are simply stitched into the very fabric of you. It’s like a piece of you is returning back to you, or maybe back to your other home with him.

“So you gonna stay with me?” He mumbles against your lips.

“I don’t know Miller, you haven’t even offered to sign anything for me. What kind of famous country singer are you?” You smirk against his lips.

He laughs, hearty, a true wild deep one sweeping you into its joy.

“Hell yeah I’ll fuckin’ sign something for ya, our marriage certificate.” He snaps in classic grumpy Joel fashion and you almost think about dragging him to a courthouse.

You text your friend a million apologies and even take pictures of all the signed merch you’re bringing back to her.

Now in the cocoon of Joel’s cozy bed on his tour bus, among the warmth sheets, you hold the ring up in the dim light inspecting it. Because of course your secretly romantic man kept the ring with him.

“You sure you weren’t keeping this around for someone else?” You ask.

“Fuck no.” He growls low. “S’yours…only yours.”

From behind his arms slide around you and you’re encompassed by his swallowing presence. His beard scrapes against your shoulder.

“If ya don’t like it, can get ya another one.” He mutters casually but hesitant softness peeks out from under his gruff tone.

“It’s perfect.” You reassure him.

It’s the ring Joel got you then and it’s the ring you want now and always will. You even tell him that.

The kisses places on your bare shoulder whispers of his devotion.

“Honey.” However, his voice now is hesitant and makes you pause on your ring inspecting.

“I gotta ask…but do ya have my armadillo keychain?” Joel asks with an utter somberness.

You burst out laughing and it shakes your body.

“Honeydew, I’m being serious!” He growls out. “Want that lil’ fella back!”

Wheezing with giggles you lean back against Joel, floating so blissfully floating in renewed adoration.

Twisting in his arms your lips find his.

“Tryin’ to distract me ‘cause you lost him, huh?” He mutters.

You snort, shaking your head.

“No I just love you so much, you dumb cowboy.” You tell him.

“Your dumb cowboy. For better or worse.” He vows, kissing you back firmer now.

“For better or worse,” you nod breathing into him.

In this carved out slightly cramped space it feels holy, sacred, chapel like. You’re even afraid it might be gone tomorrow morning. However, the ring on your finger is the steeled reassurance it isn’t going anywhere.

But, just in case, you gather this glory and Joel into your arms with the promise of never letting go.

#my heart is so full and I can’t thank yall enough I wish country singer Joel could perform for you personally in your living room #let’s rodeo fic series #country singer!joel miller #Joel miller x reader #Joel miller x f!reader #Joel miller fic #Joel miller fanfic #Joel 🤎

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lovelyjj · 3 months

Note

would it be possible if we can get fluff/angst of reader and jj?

jj is at midsummers as a busser and reader has had a few a drinks and rafe drugged readers drink and jj saves reader?

Saved

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.6k

warnings: roofieing (reader gets drugged) ***please don’t read if this could be triggering***

Midsummers was the event of the year. Many kooks gathered around for this celebration. JJ wouldn’t be caught dead surrounded by this many kooks, but he had to work so here he was.

You were middle class, not really a kook but also not a pogue. You did however have friends that were both kooks and pogues. It was late afternoon when you arrived at Midsummers.

The island club was decorated beautifully. There was flowers everywhere and you were excited for the events to take place. You were wearing a pretty silk black dress that flowed down your legs.

Some of your girlfriends greeted you. You got swept up in conversation, chatting about the excitement of the event and what not. You were happy to get caught up with your friends.

The dance floor started to gain popularity. Most of the guests were out on the dance floor. It looked inviting. You were thinking about dancing when you noticed JJ. You considered him a friend and you were surprised to see him here.

JJ had caught your eye before. You couldn’t deny he was attractive. He was incredibly hot for that matter. You felt something in your chest when you looked at him but you highly doubted he felt the same way.

JJ considered you a friend. You have hung out in a group a couple times and JJ enjoyed your company. He thought you were the prettiest girl on the island. He also thought he didn’t have a chance. You were way outa his league.

You were pulled to the dance floor by your friends. You were only dancing a few minutes when Sarah came up to you and asked if you would get some drinks with her. You agreed needing some liquid courage.

Sarah led you to the bar. She looked beautiful in her white dress and flower crown. You told her this and she beamed. The two of you got mai tais. You were both talking, drinking and laughing.

“So whats been going on in your life?” Sarah asked.

“Oh not much the same old same old,” you answered.

“Come on there has to be something, something new happening with you,” Sarah pressed on.

“Um well, I been practicing guitar, that’s not really exciting but,” you began.

“Oh really that’s cool I would love to hear you play sometime,” Sarah showed her interest.

“Yeah maybe. What about you what’s been going on?” You asked.

“Well me and John B are getting pretty serious,” Sarah started to blush and you thought that was sweet.

“What about Topper?”

“Oh he’s old news,” Sarah giggled.

“Oh really? Damn, aren’t you supposed to be here with him though?” You questioned.

“Shhh,” Sarah brought a finger to her lips.

“You’re crazy,” you laughed.

The two of you continued to talk as well as drink a couple drinks. You were getting a little tipsy. The alcohol was addicting. It eased your nerves and it made you want to keep drinking.

You didn’t feel the presence behind you but Sarah narrowed her eyes.

“What do you want Rafe?” Sarah got right to the point, her tone bitter.

“Oh nothing just wanted to talk to Y/N,” Rafe insisted.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Sarah crossed her arms.

“How about you let her speak for herself,” Rafe gritted his teeth but was trying to remain calm.

Being the angel that you are, you assured Sarah that it was fine. “It’s ok Sar, i’ll just be a minute,” you say.

Sarah gave you a wavering look but nodded her head and walked off.

You turned around to face Rafe and he towered over you. Rafe gave you a smile.

“So what’s up?” you asked.

“Nothing really I just wanted to see you and ask you something,” Rafe replied.

“Which is?”

“Would you like to dance?” Rafe requested.

“Um maybe not right this second because-“

“You know what forget about it, no worries,” Rafe assured.

“Can I at least get you a drink?” Rafe asked.

“Sure.”

“You look beautiful by the way,” Rafe complimented.

You smiled, “Thank you.”

JJ was watching you from afar. He could see that you were talking to Rafe. There were alarm bells ringing in his head. Rafe was bad news what was he doing talking to your sweet self?

JJ continued clearing glasses so he could go back and wash them. He couldn’t clear the bad feeling he had in the pit of his stomach. When he looked over at you again his heart broke a little bit at the sight of you throwing your head back in a laugh. Your hand was holding Rafe’s arm and Rafe was smiling as you laughed.

JJ clenched his jaw. Yeah you weren’t his but he was still jealous. He should be the one making you laugh not Rafe. He couldn’t stand it so he went in the kitchen and started washing glasses.

JJ was told to come back out and clear more glasses only a few minutes into washing. With a sigh JJ ventured out into the party. He glanced in your direction and what he saw made his heart stop.

Rafe was putting a tablet in your drink. He was showing you something on his phone with the other hand. JJ froze, he didn’t know what to do but he knew he couldn’t just stand there and let you get drugged.

JJ’s blood was boiling. How dare Rafe try and take advantage of you. Rafe is gonna loose his head because JJ was gonna rip it from his body. JJ legs were running faster than his mind.

JJ’s heart dropped to his feet when he saw you take a drink. JJ raced over there in record time. He put his hand on the small of your back and took the drink away from you. He then dumped it on the floor and threw the glass at Rafe.

JJ took hold of your arms and told you to stay there. He then punched Rafe right in the face. He grabbed Rafe by the collar and said, “If I ever see you go near her again I will kill you,” he spat.

“Come on angel let me take care of you.”

You didn’t know what to think one minute you were there talking to Rafe and the next JJ was here ushering you away. You felt like you were drunk.

You felt safe with JJ. His presence was comforting. So you let him take you away from the party.

With great difficulty JJ got you to the château. You were slurring your words and JJ did his best to hold you up.

“In here pretty lady,” JJ ushered you into his room at the château.

“You smell good,” you mumbled.

JJ laughed, “alright just lay down now.”

“I feel dizzy,” you held your head.

“I know I know everything will be better in the morning you just need to rest,” JJ assured.

“Let’s get your shoes off,” JJ added.

JJ took off your shoes and then tucked you into his bed. He wanted to make sure that you were safe and out of harms way. You were the girl of his dreams. He felt like he needed to protect you.

“Goodnight Y/N, go to sleep,” JJ whispered.

Your head was spinning and you didn’t know what to do other than sleep. So eventually you went to sleep, breathing in JJ’s scent.

JJ went to go sleep on the couch. He wanted to give you your space. He wanted to be there and watch on you but he decided to do that from a far. JJ didn’t want to overwhelm you.

——————

You woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom. The light from the sun shined through the window causing you to wake up. Your head was pounding. Your body was aching. You didn’t know where you were.

You looked around the room confused as to how you got there. You were scared because you didn’t remember leaving midsummers.

JJ was on the couch when you entered the living room.

“Hey stranger,” JJ called.

“JJ?”

“Yep.”

“Do you know what the heck happened?” You asked.

“Um well first I think you should sit down,” JJ ushered you to sit next to him.

“Ok.”

“Alright you were at midsummers talking to Rafe. And he was trying to drug you. He put something in your drink and I couldn’t get to you in time before you took a drink. But luckily I finally got to you and got you out of there. I safely brought you here and let you sleep it off in my bed,” JJ explained.

“Woah,” you took a moment to let his words sink in.

“I’m glad you were there to save me,” you were feeling appreciative.

“I’d do anything for you you know that right,” JJ stated.

“I do now,” you responded.

“Can I kiss you?” JJ asked.

“Mhmm.”

JJ leaned in and placed his lips on yours. The kiss was soft and gentle and JJ kissed you with care. Like if he kissed you any harder you might break. Your lips moved together in sync. He cupped your cheek, thumb moving on your face.

When he pulled away you were both breathless. You looked into JJ’s blue eyes and fell in love. You could swim in his eyes. You had a new found appreciation for JJ. He saved you from what could have been a terrible situation, and for that you were eternally grateful.

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asexual-radio-demon · 3 months

Text

Three hours, twenty minutes, thirty-four seconds

Vox x wife!reader (3rd POV) Words: Warnings: Threatening, crude language (a bit), suggestive themes however nothing nsfw, Vox is simping for his wife Summary: Galas were tedious and Vox wanted nothing more than to come home

The hall she was currently in was huge and had been spruced up to sparkle. Diamond-adorned chandeliers cast the huge space in a golden light, reflecting not only from the highly polished floor but also from the clothes and jewelry of the other guests.

They had put on their best attire and seemed to be doing their best to suffocate each other with superficial and false pleasantries.

She herself had fallen victim to this, having been in conversation with Mr. Hile for nearly half an hour, and wished nothing more than that she had stayed at home. Not only was his company incredibly tiresome, as was he himself, but he wasn't even interested in her company or her opinion on any subject. If he had been, she could have at least pulled herself together and feigned interest.

Instead, he seemed solely fixated on her husband's work, firing off one statistic after another, leaving her head spinning with numbers.

However, her wishes for rescue seemed to have been granted, because after another five minutes, during which she thought she was going mad, as if drowning in a sea of data, an arm suddenly wrapped around her and a hand settled on her hip. She didn't have to look up to know who was holding her.

"Mr. Hile, what a delightful surprise!" Vox businessman's voice oozed charm as he greeted the man in front of him, his smile polished and practiced, but she could hear the venom in which his words were drenched and felt the electric tension around him, making the hairs on her arms and neck stand on end.

"Mr...Mr. Vox." All of a sudden, Hile didn't seem nearly as confident and she had to pull herself together not to break into a wide grin at the sight. "I didn't know you were-" "-also attending the gala? Well, I'm here."

He laughed lightly, albeit forced, and pulled her a little closer as his claws pressed lightly into her skin. Not painfully, but strong enough so that she couldn't free herself from his grip. Certainly not that she wanted to.

"Tell me, Mr. Hile, haven't I already told you several times that I'm not interested in your offer?" His voice sounded more strained, but keeping the light tone, and she really didn't want to be in the man's shoes now. Hile blanched and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously as he took a step back, but Vox's grip on his jacket tightened with a subtle click of his tongue. fumbling at his collar and taking a step back, but Vox grabbed him by the jacket with a slight click of his tongue.

"I asked you a question. It's only polite to answer it." His voice glitched slightly and she could feel the tension building in the air. "Yes! Yes you have," Hile squeaked, and if he hadn't bored her to death for the last thirty minutes she would have felt sorry for him.

"Good, so why do you think it would be appropriate to bother my wife about this?" Hile began to sweat and sheer panic was in his eyes as he tried to stammer his way out of it, which only angered Vox more. He sank his hand into his shirt and seemed to catch his body in the process, as Hile whimpered in pain.

"I should tear you bastard apart right here," he hissed, running one of his talons across his cheek and down to his throat, leaving a thin gash. "I should disembowel you and decorate this hall with your guts."

Sparks flew between his fingertips, burning into Hile's shirt and skin, and she knew Vox was really going to kill him, so she gingerly placed her hand on his arm.

"Let it be, Vox." His gaze shot over to her and softened instantly. " You sure, doll? He shouldn't have treated you like that." A slight smile crept onto her lips, however, she shook her head resolutely. "While you're right and I'd love nothing more than to be rid of that skank, I don't want any more attention on me. I'm not really in the mood for this drama."

Vox bowed his head slightly, bending to his wife's will, and wheeled around to Hile, a fake smile plastered on his face.

" Well, it seems luck's on your side today. For whatever reason my wife doesn't think you're worth the trouble of taking care of. I don't agree, but I'd be a bad husband if I didn't make her wishes my priority. If I had my way, you'd be wasting space and spending the next few hours in agonizing pain." She could see some energy enter Hile's body via Vox's fingertips, causing him to flinch and squeal softly before Vox dropped him to the ground, only to bend down to him. "And let me tell you, if I ever see you near me again, let alone my wife, I will run so many volts through your body that there will be nothing left of you but his fucking pile of ash, which will be as pathetic as you are. Understand?"

Hile nodded hurriedly before scrambling to his feet and rushing off to get as far as he could. Vox's disdainful stare lingered for a moment as his acquaintance departed, his expression softening as he turned towards his wife. She met his gaze with a gentle look of understanding, a subtle smile playing on her lips. "I have to admit, that was very sexy of you."

"Oh, really?" Vox's arm wrapped around her once more, pulling her close against his chest. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, eliciting a shiver that danced down her spine. "Perhaps I should threaten the filth of hell more often then, if it excites my dear wife so much."

She leaned her head back so that it rested on his shoulder and sighed softly. "At least it was entertaining, which is more than you can say for this event, if you can even call it that. I don't even know how much time we wasted here." It wasn't a question, but Vox answered nonetheless. "Three hours, twenty minutes and thirty-four seconds." She groaned and turned to face him so that they were face to face. "That long?"

Vox chuckled softly and for a few moments they just stood apart from everything, partly in the shadow of the massive pillars, simply enjoying each other's presence.

"Did I mention you look fantastic, love?" She looked up and noticed Vox's incessant sliding up and down her body and felt his hand settle on her hip again, only to slowly drift down to her pelvis. She smiled and placed a hand on his chest, "I think you did."

His grip on her tightened and he leaned forward to bury his head, screen, in her shoulder and she gasped softly as she felt his lips on her exposed neck. "You look stunning," he murmured against her skin, his words caressing her like a gentle breeze. His lips trailed to her shoulder, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake.

Her eyelids fluttered and she had to pull herself together not to give in to the urge to lean against the pillar. "The prettiest woman in all nine circles of hell. A temptation no man could ever resist and yet I am so fortunate to call you mine."

She blushed at his comment and the fact that her husband's mouth kept moving south, fully aware that they were surrounded by hundreds of people. "Vox," she gasped softly, clawing at his shoulder in an attempt to keep her voice down. Grinning cheekily, he raised his eyes and she noticed that there were once again two streaks of red below his mouth. "Yes, doll?"

She took a deep breath, hoping to regain her composure, which her husband had utterly destroyed in a matter of moments. "Three and a half hours should be long enough, don't you think?" As the air crackled with energy around her, she couldn't help but notice the sparks dancing from Vox's hands, yet he seemed intent on prolonging the tease. "But, doll. You're not suggesting what I think you're doing, are you?"

His voice held a playful tone, adding to the tension that already hung thick in the air.

He ran a single claw along her neck and the cold sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. "That's not proper for a good wife, is it?" Vox's words were laced with mischief, his touch electrifying her senses even further.

Her nerves were on edge by now. She hadn't spent hours in uncomfortable shoes listening to the ramblings of the old old people and pretending to be interested, only to be driven mad by her husband.

With a spontaneous burst of determination, she seized him by the bow tie, tugging him closer. A blush painted his screen, lending him an endearing quality that melted her heart. "Don't provoke me, my love. We both know I'm not that good, innocent housewife," she teased, mirroring his earlier playful tone. Her fingers trailed lightly over his exposed throat, feeling the subtle twitch of his frame beneath her touch.

His screen glitched momentarily in response to her boldness. "Of...course," he murmured and she let go of him, patting his screen. "Good boy. Now get us out of here. Quickly if it's possible."

Her hands slid from his neck to his chest, the urgency of her request evident in her touch. "I really need to let out some pent-up frustration."

She looked up at him and saw that the arrogant smile was back. "Of course," he replied softly, scooping her up in his arms with surprising ease, causing her to emit a startled yip. "Vox, what the... "It dawned on her what he was up to when she saw him step towards the camera. "No. Please don't."

Vox chuckled softly, his demeanor unwavering. "Don't worry, doll. It'll be quick." All at once, his voice dropped several pitches. "And afterwards, I'll apologize to you. Thoroughly." She exhaled and buried her face in his chest, bracing herself for the unsettling sensation of digital transport. "Only the best, for my queen."

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin vox #vox #hazbin hotel x reader

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months

Text

Vice surrenders

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in LA with Adam Conover at Vroman's, then on MONDAY in Seattle with Neal Stephenson, then Portland, Phoenix and more!

Vice died the way it lived: being suckered in by smarter predators, even as it trained its own predatory instincts on those more credulous than its own supremely gullible leadership. RIP, we hardly knew ye.

For those of you who don't know, Vice was a Canadian media success story. It was founded by a motley clique of hipsters, one of whom – founder of the Proud Boys – has since grown to be one of the world's great fascism influencers. Another perfected the art of getting young people to work "for exposure" even as he built a massive, highly lucrative media empire on their free labor:

https://www.canadaland.com/podcast/vice-oral-history/

Eventually, Vice transitioned to a string of progressively worsening corporate owners, each more dishonest, predatory – and gullible – than the last. The company was one of the most enthusiastic marks for Facebook's infamous "pivot to video" – in which Mark Zuckerberg destroyed half the media industry by tricking them into thinking that the public was clamoring for video content, based on fraudulent viewing numbers:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pivot_to_video

Vice went all-in on video, spending hundreds of millions to finance Zuckerberg's doomed attempt to conquer Youtube. But unlike other the rubes who got zucked, Vice found greater fools to scam, convincing giant, slow-moving meidia companies that the best way to get in on the Next Big Thing was to shower them with vast sums of string-free money:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viceland_(Canadian_TV_channel)

And yet, at every turn, through a succession of increasingly incompetent owners who bought the stumbling, declining Vice at fire-sale prices and then proceeded to hack away at the wages and tools its journalists depended on while paying executives salaries so high that they beggared the imagination, Vice's reporters continued to turn out stellar material.

This went on literally until the last moment. The memorial posted by 404 Media rounds up a selection of major stories Vice's beleaguered, precarious writers produced even as Vice's vulture capitalist leadership were pulling the rug out from under them:

https://www.404media.co/behind-the-blog-vices-legacy-and-the-idea-that-the-internet-is-forever/

True to form, those private equity scumbags locked all those workers out of the company's CMS without notice – and then forgot to lock down the podcasting back-end. That allowed a group of Vice veterans – Matthew Gault, Emily Lipstein, Anna Merlan, Tim Marchman and Mack Lamoureux – to gather for a totally unauthorized, tell-all session that they pushed out on an official Vice channel:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKT4OtDEJRA

It's a hell of a listen. Not only do these Vice veterans have lots of fascinating history to recount, but they also describe the conditions under which those blockbuster stories of Vice's final days were produced. As the "visionary leaders" of the company paid themselves millions, they halted payments to key suppliers, from Lexisnexis to the interview transcription service the writers depended on. Writers paid out of pocket to search PACER court records.

Not only did Vice's reporters do incredible work under terrible and worsening circumstances, but the Vice writers who got out ahead of the total collapse are also doing incredible work. 404 Media is a writer-owned investigative news publisher founded by four Vice escapees – Samantha Cole, Jason Koebler, Emanuel Maiberg and Joseph Cox, which is both producing incredible work and sustaining the writers who founded it:

https://www.404media.co/

All of which leads to an inescapable conclusion: whatever problems Vice had, they didn't include "writers don't do productive work" and also didn't include "that work isn't economically viable*. Whatever problems Vice had, they weren't problems with Vice's workers – it was a problem with Vice's bosses.

Which makes Vice's final, ignominious punishment at the hands of those bosses even more brutal, stupid and inexcusable. According to the leaked memos emanating from the company's investors and their millionaire C-suite toadies, the business's new strategy is abandoning their website in order to publish on social media.

This is…I mean, this,..

This is…

Wow.

I mean, wow.

The thing is, the social media business model is a giant rug-pull. They're not even bothering to hide their playbook anymore. For social media, the game is to encourage media companies to become reliant on third parties to reach their audiences. Once that reliance is established, the companies turn down – or even halt – the ability of those media companies to reach their audience altogether. Then, they charge the media companies to reach their audiences:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/06/save-news-we-need-end-end-web

Now, this wasn't always quite so obvious. Back when Vice was falling for Facebook's "pivot to video," it wasn't completely obvious that the long con was to take your audience hostage and ransom them back to you. But deliberately organizing your business to be reliant on social media barons today? It's like trusting your money to Sam Bankman-Fried…in 2024.

If there was ever a moment when the obvious, catastrophic, imminent risk of trusting Big Tech intermediaries to sit between you and your customers or audience, it was now. This is not the moment to be "social first." This is the moment for POSSE (Post Own Site, Share Everywhere), a strategy that sees social media as a strategy for bringing readers to channels that you control:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/19/now-we-are-two/#two-much-posse

Predicting that a social media platform will rug the media companies that depend on it today doesn't take a Sun Tzu – as cunning strategies go, the hamfisted tactics of FB, Twitter and Tiktok make gambits like "Lucy and the football" look like von Clausewitz.

The most bonkers part of this strategy is that it's coming from private equity bosses, who laud themselves as the great strategists of the 21st century, whose claim on so much of our global capital and resources is derived from their brilliant insight, which allows them to buy "distressed assets" like Vice, "restructure" them to find "efficiencies" and sell them on.

The reality is that PE goons – like other financiers – are basically herding animals. Everyone's hit on the tactic of buying up beloved media companies – from the 150-year-old Popular Science to modern publications like CNet – and then filling them with spammy garbage in the hopes that Google will fail to notice and continue to award them pride-of-place on search results pages:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

The fact that these billionaire brain-geniuses can't figure out how to "turn around" a site whose workers a) produce brilliant, popular, successful work; and b) depart to found successful firms that commercialize that work tells you everything about their ability to spot "a good business opportunity."

PE – like other mafiosi – only have one business-plan, the "bust out," where you invade a business that produces useful things, force them to pay your chosen suppliers sky-high fees for things they don't need, extract massive fees for your "management" and then walk away from the collapse:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/02/plunderers/#farben

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/24/anti-posse/#when-you-absolutely-positively-dont-give-a-solitary-single-fuck

#pluralistic #vice #motherboard #posse #apps #enshittification #media #chumboxes #botshit #bust outs #news bailouts

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josephquinnswhore · 1 year

Note

Hello

I’ve had this idea for a while :}

What if reader and Pedro had a la la land moment when they break up and then reunir two years later at an awards show and realize they still have feelings for each other

Like right person wrong time :>

Finding Our Way Back

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x female reader.

Summary: you and Pedro rekindle your relationship after seeing him at an award show, it’s been two years since you’ve separated and he looks better than ever.

Word Count: 3.7k

Content Warning: allusions to reader that worked in a shit workplace, fluff.

Note: thanks so much for requesting. Thought I’d do the MTV awards since he’s nominated and I’ve already written about Pedro at the Oscars! I hope you love it 🫶🏼

As an interviewer for Vanity Fair, you knew it was highly likely that you’d run into your ex boyfriend, Pedro Pascal at the MTV awards as he was nominated with Bella Ramsay in the category “best duo,” after his latest role as Joel Miller. Although things had ended amicably on both ends, it had been two years ago since you split; your maturity, respect and the love you still had for him played a part in that clean break. You wanted to beg for him to stay with you, to try and make things work; but he was having a big breakthrough in his career and you couldn’t be selfish with him, after decades of his hard work to get to where he is now, so you let go. After years of smaller roles, despite you reassuring him he was incredible in all roles he played, he knew this one would change his life, working on a project with his idol Nick Cage.

Funnily enough, being in this situation was how you met. You standing at an event in a dress that was too tight and itchy on your skin, waiting to interview the nominees for this award show. Although all those years ago you didn’t work for such a well known, respected company as VF.

You worked for a small company called For You Entertainment, they were working their way up the ladder attending small events with D-List celebrities when your producer thankfully got you a breakthrough, an interview with the cast of Narcos at the end of season 2 premiere. You were nervous and fidgeting with your lilac sequin dress that was so tight you were cursing your stylist internally for making you wear clothing that was a size too small for your waist. Your lungs felt heavy as they couldn’t inhale fully, the feeling of being claustrophobic in your own skin was dizzying, along with the sweatiness of your hands and the bright light from your film crew, it was all too much. A staff member from the event, led Pedro to you and you knew you were screwed, the knowing look in those chocolate brown eyes, he knew how anxious you were feeling, he read you instantly. Your co-workers were ready to begin filming when Pedro held his hand up, signalling for the men to stop momentarily, and they did.

“Hey, I’m Pedro. It’s so nice to meet you…”

His hand meets your own as you introduce yourself, he catches the wobble in your voice as your confidence plummets to the ground beneath your heels. He offers a kind smile and you’re enamoured by how kind he’s being, how gentle and attentive he is; he was doing whatever he could to make you comfortable.

“Are you okay?”

You let out a shaky breath and huff out a small laugh,

“this is my first ever interview with like, a real celebrity and you’re my celebrity crush. Plus this dress is a size too small which they picked on purpose, something about making my boobs perkier.”

The speed at which your mouth rambles leaves your brain unable to comprehend the words that leave them for a few seconds, the moment you register what you say your eyes are wide and Pedro is laughing sweetly.

“It’s a pleasure to be here with you, don’t be nervous, I think you look stunning. You can do this, I’m here to help you make things go smoothly! Shall we?”

How wrong he was, he wasn’t just like any other guy, that’s what drew you in, he sucked you into his orbit, the gravity holding you down to him. Alas, you agree to start the interview. Your nerves somewhat shaken and cheeks a deep shade of red, along with a tingle of heat on your face you’d never experienced prior to Pedro’s flattery.

“Let’s do this.”

You bare a shy grin and give the camera man a thumbs up as they prepare to start the interview.

There was nothing wrong with your relationship with Pedro. It had just seemed like the relationship had run it’s course through the years. You were studying and working full time, 60 hours a week you were in a chokehold of being underpaid and overworked, being younger, new to the industry and vulnerable, you let your boss expose you to the cruelty of the profession when you had several employees that treated you like a doormat. Pedro had always insisted he hated how much you worked for them; how terribly they treated you and crushed your potential within months, that you could achieve more.

Pedro has just gotten a main role in “the unbearable weight of massive talent” when things fell apart, he was incredibly hard working and committed to his work life, the man that was practically married to his career left you in a position of what felt like roommates more than actual lovers. The conversation was hard and you almost didn’t go through with it; you knew you’d regret it but it was necessary, you couldn’t live like this anymore. You missed the intimacy and the connection, feeling like you were in a loveless relationship even though you loved him endlessly.

He had gotten home from a long day of filming, body slumped as he walked through the door, hours and hours on end of filming had him exhausted, he was surprised to see you sitting on the couch with the light and tv on when he walked through the front door.

“Hey, you’re up?”

The confusion in his voice was evident and you inhaled a shaky breath, turning to face him, you nearly backed out of your plan like a coward. Instead you invite him to sit next to you.

“Yeah, we need to talk, will you come sit?”

Pedro’s thick eyebrows are pinched in a frown, looking his age when the wrinkles in his face become evident. The lounge dips as he sits next to you, his large hand on your knee as his brown eyes watch you.

“Is everything okay?”

His voice is cautious and you just exhale, not questioning your own judgment.

“I think it would be in both our favours if we part ways, I’d prefer if we could do this amicably and still be friends afterwards. There’s no connection or intimacy anymore, we’re both too busy. Maybe if,” you sigh loudly unable to find the courage to finish the sentence. Luckily, Pedro knows what you’re thinking.

“If we were at a different stage in life, right?”

He finishes the thought in your head and you nod, fat tears falling down your face, his arms are quick to pull you into a hug, your head rests on his shoulder and he kisses the back of your head.

“I still love you, maybe things will work out for us one day, hm?”

You chuckle, the noise wet as you choke back your tears, “that would be a dream wouldn’t it?”

Having worked for Vanity Fair for the past 12 months, you had met some well known A-list celebrities, some in which would be here tonight at the mtv awards, some people attending not as well known but still nonetheless attending and perfectly deserving of your attention. Your black cocktail dress hugged your figure perfectly, hair pulled upward and styled neatly. Your faces natural beauty was accentuated by the light make up that had been carefully applied by the companies make up artist. The shades of pink and gold on your eyelids were glistening in the lights that shone a bright white overhead as you stood in the middle of the walkway right before the entry to the building where the awards were being held.

Your manager had warned you sympathetically that Pedro was one person you’d be interviewing, it didn’t take much reassuring on your behalf to assure her that although and and Pedro hadn’t really spoken since you broke up; besides the yearly birthday messages and him liking your Instagram posts, that things were okay between you and you were happy to interview him.

When you see him, he’s looking as handsome as ever. His brown hair had a few greying strands on the side of his head near his temples. The purple suit he wears clings to his body and he wears it with finesse, the grapefruit colour makes his skin look its glowing in a golden light, the suit hangs off his broad shoulders with no room to spare. A small heart-shaped patch in his black and grey beard was still failing to fill with hair on the left side of his face. He smiles so widely when he sees you, quickening his casual pace to a speed walk to bump his body into yours, wrapping his strong arms around you to pull you into a hug, his big muscles bulging against your dress-clad skin. You accept the hug and pull him into you, squeezing him as your arms wrap around the back of his neck, the cologne he wears compliments the natural musk of him that you recognise and miss so dearly.

You fight the urge to look at his plump lips a second time, the shade of pink whispered sweet words to draw you into him like a hypnotist, threatening you to kiss him against your will. He pulls back and stands tall next to you, he towers over you, even in your 3 inch heels.

“Pedro Pascal, what a warm welcome. Thank you so much for joining us this evening.” You greet warmly, holding the microphone between the small gap between your bodies, he misses the redness on your cheeks as he grins so widely his dimple exposes itself.

“Thank you for having me, it’s so great to be here, and it’s so great to see you, look at you, you’re looking stunning this evening.” He stands a little too close to you than he does anyone else that’s trying to get an interview from him, his fondness of you showing through the camera that records you.

“You always were a charmer weren’t you. This suit is incredible, you’re looking dapper tonight.” Your free hand that isn’t holding the mic gently runs a hand down his suit, keeping your hand on his chest, getting a feel for the material. You grin at the redness of his cheeks before getting to what the fans really want.

“Now, there is something your fans are begging me to address. As the self proclaimed biggest daddy on the internet, are your fans all your children?” Pedro laughs, the sound is ringing in your ears like the most delightful song you’ve ever heard. He takes the microphone from you and turns to the camera, “yes, you are all my children. I will warn you, grogu may get a little jealous.”

“That’s so sweet, why do you think you chose these roles that have you as basically a father figure?” You muse, eyes batting unintentionally as you’re drawn into his charming character. “I mean, truthfully I would love to have kids someday. Since that’s not an option right now I’m opting for the role of playing dad.” Your heart starts racing, both in awe and disappointment, knowing you would never be the one to bare his children, as his girlfriend or wife, you had missed your opportunity years ago.

“Now we do have a question that a lot of people are begging us to ask you and who are we to deny them?Does Joel Miller in the tv series meet the same fate as the game?” Pedro bares his teeth in a grimace and looks directly into the camera. “It’s going to be almost exactly the same, sorry kids.” He shrugs casually before turning back to you.

“Well Pedro it’s been such a delight to talk with you this evening, we’re wishing you and Bella the best to win an award, have a wonderful evening!” Pedros hands cross in front of his torso, fumbling with the silver ring that sits on his pinky. “Of course it’s amazing to see you. Thank you, have a great night.” He waves to you sweetly as he walks off with a staff member that’s leading him into the building. You stop filming and let out a big sigh.

“How are you feeling?” Your cameraman Andrew asks, “I’m okay, just feels like an open wound still, I guess.” He offers a sympathetic smile, “you did great. That was an awesome interview, everyone’s going to love it. Your chemistry is off the charts.”

You silently agree. The chemistry was still there, maybe you should just, text him later as a “it was so good to see you” curtesy text. Regardless of how terrible he was at texting, it would show you made an effort.

It’s been hours since you saw and spoke to Pedro, his image ingrained in your brain every time you close your eyes, where you’re normally met with blackness this night you’re met with his smile, the smell of his natural musk, the scent of his cologne lingered on your own skin as if he lie next to you. The heaviness of his hands as he hugged you felt as if he was still touching you, it made you restless. You were struggling to sleep even when the streets below your apartment began turning off their lights, one by one you seemed to be the only one wide awake in the neighbourhood.

11:28pm. After changing your mind about half a dozen times on what to write, you settle on something kind and friendly, and you send the text: “it was so good to see you tonight, you look great.”

To your surprise it’s barely a minute before he replies: “it was such a pleasure to see you, can I ask you something?”

Your heart is racing as you can barely think about what he could possibly ask, you assure him: “of course, anything.”

The bubble comes up as if he’s typing, then disappears. You grown as you watch him type and delete this message before it finally comes through after a few minutes: “going to bed anytime soon?”

You raise an eyebrow to yourself and whisper, “seriously that’s what took you so long?” And reply to him: “nope, wide awake.”

“Want some company? I can bring coffee.” You rub your eyes in disbelief, wondering if this is real or an illusion.

“Please do. You know how I like it.” You send through your address as you’ve moved to a newer and slightly bigger apartment in the last year. “Be there soon.” He replies without a moments notice.

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself as you rush to the bathroom, attempting to make yourself look presentable, brushing your hair down neatly before braiding it, smoothing out your pyjamas and turning on some lights in the living room as you turn on the tv to Disney Plus turning on Moana as you attempt to sit comfortably.

There’s a soft knock at the door and you get an alert on your phone that someone’s outside, you check your phone, seeing Pedro standing in black pants, a white shirt and a large black trench-coat, a cardboard cup holder in hand with two Starbucks coffees occupying the space. You smooth out your pyjamas once again and unlock the two locks to your front door, feeling winded as you see your ex boyfriend standing there looking as beautiful as ever with a shy smile on his face.

You open the door and step to the side, “please, come in.” He shudders slightly from the breeze that drafts in from outside, your house abnormally warm and the feeling is welcome on his cold skin. “You have a nice place here. How long ago did you move in?” You take the coffees and sit them down in the cup holders in your lounge as he takes off his trench-coat, the atmosphere too warm for the accessory. “Coming up 12 months now. Right after I started working for Vanity Fair.”

You gesture for Pedro to sit on the lounge after he hands his coat on the coat hanger by the door, he keeps a respectable space between you, unlike earlier in the evening where he stood entirely too close. “Moana always was your favourite.” Pedro muses to himself. “Somethings never change.” You reply with a shrug, the statement having a double meaning behind it.

“Yeah, I guess. What’s new in your life anyway. Other than work and all the formalities?” He questions, the hopeful look in his eye beams as you sink comfortably into the grey couch, “nothing really, I’m quite boring these days. The same girl you know.” You sip your coffee and hum in contentment, missing the way Pedro whispered “and love.” After your statement, “thanks so much for the coffee, it’s perfect. It’s any wonder you still remember,” you admit.

“How could I forget my girls coffee order?” Pedro freezes, realisation of what he said sinks in. “I mean, I meant- I didn’t..” he stutters and you rest your hand on his, trying to diffuse his panicked state. “It’s okay, I’ve missed you you know. Seeing you tonight made me realise how much I never got over you.” The admission has both of your skin burning with desire and slight embarrassment. “You feel that way?” His voice is sweet, you wish he would just talk to you all night, you’d simply sit and listen.

“Of course I do. I’ve always loved you Pedro.” Just like that the bomb has dropped, the elephant in the room is too large and suffocating to ignore, you still love him, years later you still love him.

“I’ve been needing to hear that for such a long time. I love you, I was a fool to let you go,” you lean into the warmth of Pedro’s hand as he caresses your face, your heart rate spiking at his touch and confession. “We can always just.. pick up where we left off,” you offer sweetly. Pedro’s eyes raise at your offer, the ball was in his court and he was going to take it. Without another word he pulls you into him, your lips smashing into his, moulding together like two unique puzzle pieces that were made for each other.

You part your lips and grant him access to deepen the kiss, years of unspoken love and missing each other all came to surface with this kiss. When you pull apart you’re both heaving, foreheads pressed together you stare into his chocolate orbs. “Please be mine. I don’t think I could go another day knowing you’re not mine.” You exhale a shaky breath, the taste of him still on your lips, “I was always yours Pedro. We just had to find out way back.” Pedro’s thumb strokes your cheek and let’s put a small laugh, almost in relief. “I’m grateful we did. Everything feels right again.”

You nod as you silently agree with him, the hole left empty now felt overfilled, you knew your cup would never be empty again with Pedro by your side again, “stay the night.” Your nose grazes his cheek as you whisper. He pulls you into his lap, strong arms holding you in place as he kisses your shoulder. “When have I ever been able to say no to you?”

“I’ll teach you how to stop being such a people pleaser one day you know.” You jest lightly. “As long as I have you, none of that even matters, baby.” You turn to kiss him, the intoxicating sweetness of his lips is almost impossible to pull away from. “You’ll always have me. Promise.” A few moments of silence pass before you ask, “did you win the award?” Pedro hums before he realises what you’ve said, pulling his eyes away from the tv, “yeah we did, Bella was stoked, it was such a big moment for them.” You lean into his chest, smiling in content with how perfectly things were falling into place.

#Pedro pascal #mtv awards #Pedro pascal as Joel miller #Pedro pascal x you #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal x fem reader #Pedro pascal rpf #Pedro pascal x ex girlfriend #right person wrong time #Pedro pascal x interviewer reader

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kentomilk · 6 months

Text

ᴺᴬᴺᴬᴹᴵ ᴷᴱᴺᵀᴼ ᴵᴺ

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it seems there is never an activity too lackluster or intimate for this couple to find pleasure in each other's company with their busy lives.

husband!nanami kento x wife fem!reader.

catalogue. fluff, slice of life content, non-sorcery au/ non-curse, modern au, salaryman!kento, sick & soft kento, (1) mentions of praise kink. wc: 1.95k thea’s preamble. inspired by this incredible art, i must admit i look at this at least once a day. → ✨ also this is my first published work, it's a bit rough but hopefully with time it gets better. thank u for reading <3

kento is a man of routine and order, we all knew that. he wakes up at a set time, kisses his beautiful sleeping wife, carries out his morning routine of showering and oral hygiene, dons his best suit, light breakfast, and is out the door by 8 AM. the evenings he returns home aren’t any less lax, whether he’s home at 6 PM on the dot or late by a few hours, he’ll always greet and kiss his beautiful wife, have dinner in his study whilst he continues more work while the lovely missus reads on the chaise or continues unfinished work of her own as well, then shower and oral hygiene, sleep.

perhaps that was an oversimplification, but don’t be fooled one may think the man adopts and follows this lifestyle out of a need for security, financial or otherwise. or that he loves the unrelenting and perpetual cycle of working painstakingly 10-hour days, he certainly isn’t given highly-coveted tasks for being a slacker. he’s grateful for what the occupation provides, the salary and bonus that come with his overtime, to lavishly spoil his family, but that's all.

he has no ambition to climb the ladders that will put him in places he doesn't care to be, to rub elbows and kiss ass with scummy executives, leeches, and conceited thugs, only to trash talk and scheme against the moment he steps foot in his home.

all he asks is for saturdays and sundays, as they happen to be Kento’s favourite.

the days he has off from his draining 9-to-5, to be spent properly with his lovely wife. who was ever so patient with him, ever so supportive, and ever so his to love and cherish so as long as his body would allow him. even if his body was battered down to a pulp, he’d find alternatives as necessary, but let’s hope it never comes to that.

there would be times when not much would differ from the previous weekend, and well into the next, spent doing the same activities, or nothing at all. he never wanted to take for granted the time you spent together, and sometimes that meant not always making the most of those days, and he’s okay with that.

whether the two of you lazed in bed until the afternoon or spent a whole day cooking a feast completely from scratch, starters to dessert. visiting the farmers market to cook said feast, reading in your cozy home library, or even the sudden bouts of spring cleaning.

there is always a welcome invite for spontaneity, a picnic under the stupendous aspen tree you simply adored at the local park. a quick overnight trip to a scenic and quaint town, whether your destination is reached by train, plane, automobile, or even boat. the occasional painting date has become a more frequent activity as of late. but there is one “special” activity that some might consider, unique. one that is relatively low cost, that is done from the comforts of your humble abode, that further advances the intimacy (according to kento), and is reserved solely for you, one that kento absolutely adored, shaving.

usually, it was something he’d done alone after showers with either a rechargeable or disposable razor or by his barber when it came time for his bi-monthly hair trim. but recently it became a task that you’d undertake by kento’s request, sort of.

while you didn’t mind what would grow from a days of not shaving, he preferred maintaining a clean shave for the clean-cut classification for a man of his occupation, it also became supplemental to his hygiene routine that he grew to love.

it wasn’t something you saw often, kento so dishevelled with the most tragic undereye bags from the lack of sleep from what you’d think was months suffering from insomnia, condensed into a few days. a coarse stubble emerged from the days he’d spent in bed, and his nose was flushed with how often he’d been blowing it with the nearly empty box of tissues that was full just the night before. his eyes were dull and watering, a sight you truly hated.

"honey, have you seen my hard drive?" he'd sorely asked for the 3rd time today, "it's in the laptop, kento." you called back, changing the towels in your bathroom.

he was delirious, with a runny nose and little to no comprehension of where he was or what day it was, thanks to the combination of flu medicine and kento’s determination to finish a work proposal whilst in bed, common sense would also call it overworking. despite your gentle commands that he needed rest, there was no triumph on your end, as duty calls. he was relentless, in his defense there was a conference that was meant to be held in person had it not been for his sudden ailment. though a live video conference was able to be arranged, owing to the urgency of the matter at hand.

so you figured the fastest way to get the man back into bed was to help him complete this ordeal swiftly, that meant helping him in the shower, given his sore muscle ached. applying small dots of concealer under his eyes as to not bring attention to his fatigued face, deterring from the presentation at hand.

dressing him in his warmest wool suit, but only the upper half, kento was sound enough to know there was no need to abandon his fleecy Pompompurin pajama pants. the executives were only to see from the shoulders up after all. and lastly ridding him of a heavy five o'clock shadow that was speckled with smears of dried rice from the porridge you had made him earlier.

“ok, that should be enough,” you whispered, carefully taking off the damp towel that no longer retained warmth, and squeezing out the shaving cream from the canister into your hand.

you proceed to spread the milky foam in a thin layer across the lower half of his face, letting out a soft chuckle at the finished outcome. you picked up the brand-new razor from the counter, puffing your cheeks and letting out a deep breath.

“i trust you.” kento whispered, his voice scratchy and hushed.

you smiled in response, quietly informing him that you were starting. you crouched to his eye level, pulling his cheek upward with one hand, so the skin where you would shave would be taut. you intently watched his face as well as the area that you had just removed facial hair, making sure that there were no nicks or alter in his relaxed expression, verging on sleep. once you gained confirmation of such, you proceeded to shave the next row, and the next, working inwards towards his lips.

rinsing the razor after each use, and wiping on a towel you had draped on the counter. though nerve-wracking for a first try, it had been executed well and was quite therapeutic. your eyes were attentive and your hands steady with every down stroke. as you continued to rinse and repeat, literally, you looked up into the bathroom mirror to see your husband rotating his head to view the work that had been done, then looking straight at you with a simple grin and tired eyes, asking what he thought so far.

“you’re doing so good, my love.” he plainly states, but those watery eyes said otherwise with an innuendo you couldn’t miss, in a singular eyebrow raise. stupid praise kink, you thought, looking him up and down, wondering how even in this state, where he acquired the audacity. it wasn’t long until the two of you burst into a fit of laughter, kento being cautious as to not rub off the shaving cream with one hand that covered his eyes as he leaned back in the chair.

“what even are you.” you snickered, quickly calming yourself with the reminder of the razor in your hand.

you proceeded to shave, on the brink of completion, now focusing above his lip, where you took even more caution than you had before, due to the sensitivity of his skin in that area. opting to sit on his lap, nearly chest-to-chest with his sore arms that maintained enough strength to have a secure hold on you, even though your knees were bent, and your feet touched the heated floor effortlessly.

a few stolen kisses on kento’s behalf, and nothing more than a restrained smile that he was fighting from getting any bigger as you finished the last few strokes. in his mind, it was anticipated that the minute kento finally got better, you were going to contract what he had afterward anyway. and in turn, he’d take care of you.

so what's the harm in a few more kisses?

“so my dear husband, how would you like to start our weekend?” you asked, still cozily tucked under the blankets, looking at your husband who was similarly bundled under the toasty blankets, with your hand situated on top of his, placed gently on your cheek.

“well dear wife, it’s been days since i’ve last shaved.” he simpered, looking down at you with sly eyes.

it was something the both of you saw coming, once again he hadn’t been shaving for a while, but of course, it was deliberate. you softly laugh in response with your voice still heavy in slumber, “i’ll go get the facial steamer— in a few minutes, i want to savor every second of this vacation.” further burrowing yourself into his chest.

it had been a few months since the first time you had to shave kento’s while he was recovering, the proposal went flawlessly if you omit the booming sneezes that startled the executives even through the screen.

you had since made the switch to a straight blade like the ones you’d see used in old school barber shops, watching tutorials on methods exercised by professionals for efficiency and safety.

invested in a proper kit that supplied everything you’d need. from shave oil, pre-shave oil, shave cream, a velvety brush to spread the lather, after-shave (which smelled phenomenal), and blade replacements.

it’s been even longer since his barber last gave him a proper shave after a haircut, and that time will only continue to be prolonged. he loved how close you’d be when focusing, but time after time you’d only grown to relax the tension in your muscles. you’d sit on his lap for more of the session, and those sessions would only go longer from the last.

where there would be conversation taking place about your lives, now and the future. sometimes there would be easy-listening music playing from the speakers that would lay the cornerstones of an “impromptu” dancing session, where kento’s hands would be politely placed on your lower back, and his hand strong in yours, waltzing all around your bathroom for what felt like forever.

he was shirtless, and truth be told a little chilly, and you were wearing an old shirt of his, to him you always looked beautiful. even though there was still plenty of shaving cream on his face, it would eventually be smeared on yours. there wasn’t much more he wanted in life.

if you ask him, any weekend is well-spent, even if you do spend the entirety of it in bed, painting beautiful sceneries, cooking your favourite dishes, dancing with ardour despite having taken one class on ballroom waltz, or you shaving his grown-out stubble. as long as you're by his side, nothing is ever a waste of time. that’s how it’s been, that’s how is it, and that’s how it’ll be.

and who knows, maybe next time kento will convince you to cut his hair.

[interactions] reblogs, comments & likes are appreciated ₊˚⊹♡

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

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hiii 👋 d, f, l, s, and t (sfw alphabet) for lucifer please thank youuuu 🥺💙

Soft!Lucifer? Yes please!

SFW Alphabet | LUCIFER x gn!Reader 1k words | SFW | Fluff & Humor A/N: There's hypothetical mention of Lucifer and Reader caring for/raising a child for letter "L".

DOMESTIC (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Lucifer sees moments of domesticity between you and his brothers, and he pretends he’s not jealous of that.

He’s so incredibly busy, but he wants nothing more than quiet, tranquil moments where you can just be together without his endless list of responsibilities plaguing him.

Cleaning is a means to achieve what he likes - a tidy, well-kept home - so he does it. He doesn’t like it, but it’s necessary.

(It’s more fun if you help him, because anything is better if you’re with him.)

Cooking though? It’s a pain cooking for seven demons, especially when one of them eats enough to make it feel like he’s cooking for fifteen demons instead…

But cooking can also be relaxing, and he understands that cooking for someone you care about is a way of showing you love them.

He likes to see his family taken care of. He wants to take care of you, too.

If you spend time cooking with him in the kitchen, and he knows no one is around to watch interrupt, don’t be surprised if he’s a bit more affectionate: squeezing your shoulder while you prep ingredients; hugging you from behind when you stir the pot on the stove; accepting the spoonful of food you offer for him, and then trying to kiss you when he teasingly asks if you want a taste too.

When he has to spend evenings working in his private study, he’ll invite you to visit with him instead of one of his brothers and keep him company. He doesn’t even mind if you sit in silence, with only a quiet cursed record playing in the background - your presence is comforting enough.

He likes to look up from his paperwork and watch you read in front of the fireplace or play on your phone. Every once in a while you both look up at the same time and smile at each other. If you fall asleep, he won’t wake you - he’ll simply carry you to bed when he’s finished.

FIANCE(E) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He doesn’t need a formal marriage ceremony to feel confident in your relationship - you’re already in a pact with him, remember?

Then again, there is something highly gratifying about you having his old, lost ring…

He wouldn’t object to marriage if you asked it of him, but he might not propose himself unless you want him to.

He proves to you in so many ways that you already belong to each other.

Do you prefer monogamy? Then he’s yours, and yours alone.

Do you have other arrangements with others that you have feelings for? He’s not intimidated. Those dealing are of no consequence to him - he’s confident that there’s no one that can love you more than he can.

LITTLE ONES (How are they around children?)

He might say he finds young children tolerable but when you see them together? You might wonder whether it’s the same demon.

He will bounce a baby on his hip while walks around his office, and he’ll respond to baby gurgles and cooing like he understands them (whether he does or not is anyone’s guess).

He’ll hold their hand when they cross the street and remind them to check both ways. He impresses on them the importance of saying please and thank you. He sits them on the kitchen counter while he cooks so they can keep him company, or he lets them “help” make something (usually a dessert, so they can lick the spoon after).

Oh, and Cerberus becomes quickly accustomed to the presence of children, and being hugged by them and pet by them, and maybe being ridden by them if Lucifer thinks you’re not around to scold him–

Ahem. Yes, you could say he doesn’t mind children.

Honestly, he doesn’t give much thought to ever being a parent himself - sometimes it feels like he has six children already - but he would consider the idea if you mention wanting a family with him.

SECURITY (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Lucifer knows you’re perfectly capable of standing up for yourself, and the last thing he wants to do is overstep his boundaries and make you feel like you’re weak or less capable somehow.

(He will gladly do so if you ask him to, or if he knows it’s something you struggle with.)

HOWEVER.

He won’t stand by forever if someone shows blatant disrespect towards you personally, or insults his relationship with you.

His protectiveness usually comes to life in the form of glinting ruby eyes that flash with a promise of violence, and a joyless smile that hints at the fangs he’s ready to bare for you, and cold, sharp words that could make anyone’s blood freeze. This is his only warning, so let’s hope those that speak so poorly of you consider their next words carefully.

In an urgent situation, or one where you’re physically at risk? He doesn’t hesitate to bring you to safety, shielding you with his body or pulling you out of harm’s way. Once you’re safe, he’s on the attack, ready to eliminate whatever or whoever threatened you.

TRY (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He works so much and so hard for the things and people he cares about: the Devildom, Diavolo, his brothers, and you.

He works hard in his position at RAD because he wants the Devildom to be a better place for his family, and he wants the Devildom to be a safe place you can call home.

He uses special occasions as an excuse to take you away on a trip, or he plans an elaborate date - something he can do where all he has to focus on is making you happy.

His brothers’ antics remind him that alone time with you is a luxury he shouldn’t take for granted.

Any happy occasion or milestone gets 100% of his thoughtful attention.

His gifts are thoughtful, and practical, and he plans his gifts or trips well in advance.

He wants everything to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve.

#obey me #obey me fanfiction #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #sfw alphabet: lucifer #lucifer x reader #gn!reader #obey me lucifer

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tarjapearce · 7 months

Text

Bad Teachings (Pt. 10)

Older! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: Mild angst, emotional discomfort, Strained Relationships, Abusive Parent relationship, awkward truths, comfort towards the end, Relationship Building, Slow Burn.

Summary: Awkward Truths deepens your bond with Miguel.

A/N: Patience :'3 I know. I know. Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 ❤️✨

Pt. 11

The sweet and citric fragrance turned sharper the more you and Simon ventured through the terrace lounge. Friday night had finally showed up and now you were seating across him on the two top with a bashful smile.

When was the last time you had a true date? Delicious food and good company?

A deep exhale.

Miguel came to your mind. That night you had shared his bed for the first time. Not the secluded space the back of his car was.

"Like the place?" Simon inquired as he adjusted his blazer. He wore a white dress shirt, navy pants, brown dress shoes and matching blazer.

"Quite nice. Didn't know this part of the city."

You on the other hand were dressed up in a flowy olive green midi dress with golden low heel sandals.

But it didn't count as a date since it got a happy ending, right?

The cons of not dating formally in quite a while.

You huffed.

After that little improvised outing, Miguel acted like he had seen a ghost which was weird. The kind of weird one would get after remembering something incredibly uncomfortable or painful, but quickly shook it of.

We should do this more often

Your lips had moved to then smile but he wasn't listening, mind too far gone in his own mysterious world to actually discern your words.

"Cherie?" Just like you right now.

"Sorry, was too deep in thought."

Simon gave you a curious glance and pushed the menu your way.

"Everything good?" You nodded.

His upper torso leaned towards you. "What are you thinking?", his finger pads gently caressed over your wrist in little circles and your eyes softened for a bit.

"Little things here and there" Your lips stretched in a little sheepish smile, "Sorry to worry you."

"You still apologizing lots?"

"I guess so... Bad habits are hard to kill."

You hands raked over the menu. Hunger didn't sit right, so you settled for a mocktail and some apettizers.

Miguel had left you worried, but you trusted him and his judgment. There were times you'd know when to not press further.

Patience, patience, patience.

At least Simon seemed keen in distracting you from your own thoughts. Something you were grateful for.

"Totally get you. Been trying for a couple of years to keep myself in the limits of two beers."

"Have you succeeded?"

Simon sighed and pursed his lips, unsure of your reaction.

"Most of the times I do. An eighty percent. Is that twenty that sometimes hinders my progress."

"Well, remember that not all process are straight up lineal. Sometimes we fall and you know.... motivational things and blah and blah."

He chuckled and squeezed your hand. Relief made his shoulders to slump.

"But thanks for being honest. Highly appreciate it."

"Of course." His smile only widened as you took your phone and snapped a picture of your hands together.

The angle was perfect and so was the lighting, Simon's hand looked too pretty to not seize the chance. You then let go to give some little enhancement at the image. Light adjustment, a bit of contrast and warmth and voilà. With a smile you showed him the picture.

"That's a nice one."

"I like hands. Had to take it. Trying to improve my pictures with them too."

Simon's eyes softened as you uploaded the picture to your media profile. Conversation branched into so many topics. You had fun, and as much as you wished to keep dragging time and hobnobbing with Si, you returned home to prepare for the next adventure your mind was already dreading.

Visiting the wolf's den.

-----

Packing was rather easy. A set of Pj's, a change of undergarments, and another change of comfy clothes. All tucked in within a travel bag.

You could come up with an excuse, but again, it would just get worse eventually and you had to face the situation as bravely as you could.

It was your time to foray into enemy territory, you main mission was to leave as emotionally unscathed as possible.

You plopped on the bed with a groan. You certainly weren't exaggerating your reaction, a roulette of dread topics begun spinning. Last time you visited your weight and habits were discussed.

A little guilt-tripping here, a dash of gaslight there and lots of awkward laughs to soothe the offense had been made.

What would be this time?

Grunting into your pillow won't make the situation to go away either, but it helped to relieve a bit of tension.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

Anchoring yourself with a deep exhale, you took your phone, mentally preparing for the battle.

Hey dad, I'm on my way. Want or need anything? —

You finished packing and made sure to leave the faucets closed and a little tour around, remembering the details. Now you were exaggerating.

—Just a couple of beers and a pack of coffee. We're out of it. Thanks.

Taking the bag and the keys, you went out your door and locked it.

"Best of lucks, soldier." Hobie spoke while saluting you. His keys tinkering in the keyhole.

"I'm off to war, Hobie. If I don't return-"

"Rubbish. You've got this."

Nodding, your grip tightened on the bag and sighed.

"If you see me spamming you with messages, don't block me."

Hobie chuckled and patted your shoulder.

"Pump up, birdie. If you don't like it, come back, don't rack your brain over it."

"Thanks Hobie. In any case, whether things go good or bad, could we go for a burger?"

"You bet."

His smile was reassuring.

"See you then."

You waved him goodbye and went to your car.

------

The super shopping was quick, but the traffic towards your parent's home was hell. Three pm. You not only let your dad know about it, but sent a picture for proof.

You were lucky if the traffic jam moved for more than a few meters, and the honking. God. Your eyes rolled. Apparently people would never understand that honking for a long time wouldn't make traffic to go away, or to move faster. It'd all finish in a headache or a migraine. So far the first one was brewing.

In the meantime, you scrolled through your profiles. Updated info and of course, snapped another picture. A habit that was turning into a discipline. A shot of the clumped cars and blazing traffic lights that blurred in abstract lines depicted your current mood. Annoyed, suffocated, pained and contempt.

Your car advanced a bit more, and you wasted no time in giving the picture the editing treatment before posting it with the caption "Wished the honking made it all go away too."

To your surprise the same bot looking profile liked the picture a couple of minutes after being posted.

Same.

The comment was even more unexpected. A way too human response and enough proof for you to know it wasn't a bot.

Sending hugs ❤️.

You replied with a little smile. Finally, the traffic moved and you drove to your parent's house. Arriving around four thirty despite leaving home at one.

With a deep sigh you unbuckled the seat belt and stepped out the car with the things your dad asked. Not only your heart pounded in your throat, but your mouth dried.

The two floored and fenced suburban home you grew up in stared holes your way. Nothing had changed ever since you left.

Dad's car parked infront of the house, with yours behind. Mother's car wasn't on sight, which dropped your peaking discomfort levels almost immediately.

You'd have some actual quality time before going back to the battle. But even then, your guard could not be lowered.

The only thing that had changed was the color. It was no longer this traditional bone white with navy blue roof. It was now pale blue with a brown roofing. You rolled your shoulders back and passed the matching pale fence.

Garden blooming with different flowers. Probably both your parent's doing. Despite both working in different areas, your dad in informatics and mom in the theater industry, they both had found a common ground in gardening. And they excelled at it. Contrary to you.

Another copy of Timmy Turner's mom. Everything you touched, perished.

You entered the main door and closed the door behind you. Game on.

"Dad? I'm home." The many family pictures welcomed you. Mostly you as a baby with other relatives. Life milestones frozen in time. Your dad's head peeked from the kitchen and you smiled.

"Hey sweetie!" He hugged you, and it felt good. A little soothing even.

"Look at you! So pretty. I missed you."

"Thanks. Got you what you needed"

He took the six pack and put it on the fridge.

"How have you been?"

"Busy, but as good as I can be."

He put the coffee on the shelf and looked at you with a knowing look.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

He slanted on the counter with his arms crossed.

"I know it's hard for you. But, I really appreciate you being here. Your mom will too. She's just... You know."

He sighed and rubbed his chin.

"She has a peculiar way of showing care."

His fingers scratched his neck awkwardly, but nodded. As if afraid to actually admit it without feeling a bit of shame.

"She means well. She is just worried, sweetheart."

"About what?" Voice calm, matching your temper as you sat on the dining table, "I think I've done a pretty good job keeping and providing for myself out there."

"I know you do. And makes me feel proud to see that, just..."

Sighing, your guard rose.

"Just what, Dad?"

"It concerns me you avoid us like plague."

A natural reaction to something harmful.

Your mind spoke.

"I know that I have slacked in many things. Visiting you specially, and I try to keep my life afloat. Work is so consuming. But you're right. I should do better."

Guilt tripping or not, you knew they wouldn't complain much if you'd visit them out of the blue and mere politeness.

Your words stuck in your mouth as your mom's car parked inside the garage. The quality time left out the window.

Here we go.

"Let's try our best, yeah? " You nodded and washed your hands.

Rules were simple. Wash your hands at every chance you had, pick up and clean after yourself, help as much you could while talking the least. And for God and your mental sakes, don't mention dating.

The door opened and closed. Your mom's voice calling your dad echoed through the living room.

Her eyes widened in surprise upon seeing you, standing next to your dad with a strained smile.

"Hey"

"My daughter in the flesh! Come here, baby."

Sidling though the living room once more, you approached and she hugged you. A Judas hug, You were sure. Your eyes clamped shut for the comment following but it never did. It never came.

"I'm so glad you're here, darling. Are you hungry?"

Not that you were paranoid, but the whole in high spirits attitude made you suspicious.

"We've got to celebrate this. Let me make you a peach galette."

You were about to protest when her piercing eyes stared your way, challenging you to speak. You didn't.

"Thanks." came out instead.

Too good to be true.

------

Meal prepping was rather easy, quiet and smooth. Kinda reminded you of your life pre-college. You'd get home from school, then go to work, return again and have a lovely meal prepared. You'd talk about your day, be an average and a little dysfunctional family. The standard.

And now, the only thing that provoked any sound was the fork clinking against the plates as you ate in silence.

Your nerves felt cornered, however the little hope that danced in your heart of them being different made you start the conversation. Trying to engage with them and makeup for the lack of contact. The first step.

"I saw the garden. Looks really good."

"Your dad really outdid himself this time."

You nodded as your dad beamed.

"How's work been doing, sweetheart?" Mom again asked while wiping her mouth with the napkin.

"Glad they cut you some slack. Or else we'd have to visit you."

Oh god forbid...

"Our new boss is demanding but reasonable. We've been making advances and... I have this-"

"I remember when I got my first job. Always so busy. But don't worry, better things always come."

Not only had she interrupted you, but started rambling about her younger days.

"You said you had something"

A light shake of your head at your dad and you sipped the iced tea, "Nevermind that. Nothing important."

The war had just started

"Did she tell you about the little earrings?" Mom chirped and pointed at her ear.

"Earrings?"

"Show him, honey."

That chunk of meat felt like stones falling in your stomach. And you weren't prepared to fight with such measly ammo.

"It's alright, I'm sure it looks good."

"Good? she got three piercings! A couple more and she'd look like her neighbor."

Your dad seized you with a little frown as your hand squeezed the fork, angered.

"They're barely noticeable-"

"Does your boss knows about it? "

"Dad, such little thing won't get me fired, relax."

"Might not, but it will not get you someone."

Fuck.

"Mom..."

"What? It's true! Men don't take women seriously when they start looking like-"

You put your fork down and sighed. Anger soon began simmering.

"Can we not do this, please? I really just want to have a normal conversation." Impatient and angered words came out of your mouth but they were quickly dismissed.

"Sweetie, you know we love you, right? But you're so close reaching your thirties. You can't act out of age. And this is a very normal talk to have. You're quite sensitive these days"

At this point you were running on fumes.

"I don't date because I don't have the time, mom. And men and commitment aren't exactly a thing right now. They're either too young or too secretive for my likings!"

"What do you mean too young?" Her eyes stared at you suspiciously.

"Don't tell me you're looking for an old man." Your dad spoke as his nose scrunched up, "I know that it's your choice to date whoever you want, but older men aren't any better."

"They would only take advantage of you, baby" Your mom added wood to the fire

No.

For some reason your chest constricted a bit too tight as the image of Miguel came into your mind.

No, he'd never do that. He thought of you as a friend. You were his friend. And you held onto that thought. He was your friend too. He helped you so many times, and was honest. He'd never lie to you about it.

"Older men just want someone that doesn't make 'em them feel lonely at night, if you know what I mean."

"That's not true-" Your little protest fell upon deaf ears as they kept bringing up different examples of such dynamic, and always emphasized that it wasn't a good idea. Which left you in a stalemate.

Dating them was equally as bad as having a younger boyfriend.

" I'll stay single then. Jeesh." Your mood had been completely soured, food acrid and appetite long forgotten despite being your favorite.

"Of course not. You're too pretty for-"

"That's the least of importance now, dad. I'm not looking either, ok? Can we drop this?"

"You wouldn't be feeling inclined towards... you know... Women, don't you?" She had refused to let it go, "Why are you getting mad when we're only trying to be the best for you?

Are you fucking kidding me?

Out of respect those words remained in your mind. But it had been enough. You stood but the so ever loving mother forced you to seat back down. Your hand wrung out of her grip, regret instantly flashing her eyes as you stared back in horror.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I'm so so sorry." her words rushed

You looked at your dad, head on his palm, trying to make himself small. He wasn't helping. He never did.

"You just push my buttons so..." her voice broke, "Please understand that I just want the best for you." She sniffed.

You weren't falling for it this time. In other times, you'd stay there to console her, but that physical approach was certainly the last straw in your already messed up relationship.

"I gotta go." Your hands shook as you grabbed the plate once more, your dad pried away gently the plate from you.

Angry and silent tears flooded your eyes. You went to the living room to fetch your things but dad stood before you.

He called your name but you refused to meet his eyes.

"I know you don't want to hear me, honey. But it's too late and dangerous for you to drive back."

Soft words did little to placate the current hurting you were having, but he had a point. Saturday nights were dangerous since there were drunk people driving.

"Please?" You nodded.

"I'll prepare your old room. Is that ok?"

you nodded once more.

Your dad exhaled and went upstairs. Tension acted like a heavy claw clasped around your throat, squeezing tightly as you sobbed quietly. You expected a fight, but not a physical reaction.

You didn't sleep, and when the clock hit six, you left without much noise.

-----

Puffed eyes had decreased their swollenness, but your head hurted, and you needed a coffee. Crying hangovers would surely feel worst that the usual alcoholic ones. You stopped at the usual coffee shop, somehow glad that you were in your side of the territory.

The war had been a complete and utter failure. Not only made things worse but it had created a bigger rift between. Their calls sent straight to the voicemail, and texts remained unanswered. The least you wanted to do was to give them another chance to hurt you.

God knows you had tried. And tried with all your might. But maybe things were meant to be the same, and you have had enough.

You sped up back home, to your little fortress once you had what you needed. Clock ticked a quarter to eight.

You tossed the travel bag on the floor and your shoulders slumped. Defeated and hurt from a battle you knew was lost before even waged. Numbness spreaded through your head and body, oddly comforting, just like the sips of the creamy and sugary blend in your hand.

You only gave the blueberry muffin a couple of bites before downing your coffee and going straight to bed. there wasn't much tears to shed, so sleepiness came quickly as your bed lulled your tiredness away, embracing your body in it's comfiness.

----

Afternoon's sunshine radiated on your ajar mouth and eyes. A few rays had seeped in and slowly stirred you awake. Naturally hiding from the golden sun, you turned your body facing the other side of the wall. Three pm marked on your phone's screen.

A couple of new notifications, missed calls from dad, and text messages clogging up the log bar. A stretch and a pop here and there and you were sitting on the edge of your hypothetical death bed.

Sleeping had helped tremendously but only physically. Even though your body felt wonderful, your mind was still all over the place. Jagged, haphazard, clumped in a ramshackled mess. The emotional armor had vanished into dust, leaving you exposed.

Room felt suddenly fusty and borderline claustrophobic. You had been so tired you forgot to remove your sneakers.

Again, you needed a distraction. Hobie wasn't around since Sundays was cleaning day at the shop. So you just grabbed a sweater, took your phone and went out the door once more.

Feet took you away from the building, the complex, the neighborhood to lead you to an empty street intersection.

Too deep in thoughts to actually realize the upcoming red SUV, that honked as it stopped a few meters away from you.

Like a deer caught in the road you stared at the car. An all too familiar red Nissan Pathfinder.

There was a slamming on the door as Miguel came out of it. A disturbed scowl on his face.

"¡¿Qué chingados te pasa?! Te pude haber atropellado!" (What the fuck is wrong with you?! I could've hit you!)

Your heart thumped in your chest, and your eyes swelled up with tears once more. Your nose reddened and lip quivered as you looked at him. He slicked his head back and sighed.

"Discúlpame. I... I didn't mean to yell, ok?" (Im sorry)

You hiccuped.

"No, no, no llores." (Don't cry)

He shushed you and cradled your face in his hands, and wiped the tears from your flushed cheeks.

"You ok?"

A nod, he sighed again and let your face go.

"C'mon" He pushed your lower back gently towards his car, and opened the door for you. Then closed the door once you were seated in.

A few sporty items on the back of his car. Only when he sat back, you noticed him dressed in a more casual wear. A black t shirt that snugged his torso and arms, knee length, gray gym shorts and white sneakers. Silver and scattered strands slicked back on his dark waves of hair.

He drove to a nearby lookout, stealing subtle glances at you and parked.

"I'm sorry" You mumbled and sniffed.

"You apologize too much. Come."

Again, he opened the door for you and helped you out of the car.

"Wanna tell me what happened for you to be so distracted that almost got hit by a car?"

Even though tears menaced to spill out, you inhaled and breathed through your mouth.

"I... Got in a really bad fight with my parents."

His eyes remained on you as he listened.

"I expected a fight. But... it turned worse. And... I truly don't want them near me."

His shoulders tensed upon hearing you.

"I thought they'd change. But... Im such a dumbass for feeding myself false hopes."

"Hey, don't talk like that."

"It's true, Miguel. Cause every time I try to make amends, everything goes to shit and... Im tired of that."

"Family is complicated. I know much. But, if there is something worth telling, family is not always about blood."

Nodding you looked up at him, teary eyed.

"Miguel?"

"Si?"

"We're friends right?"

His eyebrow quirked and then his eyes softened.

"We are. Why?"

"You'd tell me the truth if something is bothering you, right?"

His jaw tensed for a moment and his eyes looked at his hands.

"What's with these sudden questions?"

"Yes or no"

"I would."

Your eyes didn't waver. He wasn't one to be easily impressed, but the straightforwardness of your words had taken him aback.

"Did you ever feel like you were taking advantage of me?"

He blinked

"Why are you asking me this? Are you truly ok?"

Discomfort grew in his chest the more you spoke. What had happened back home?

"Yeah. Just... something stupid my parents said that made me angry"

"Tell me." It wasn't a question, neither an order. A concerned inquiry.

"You know that when reaching a certain age, you are asked about dating and such. I said that I didn't cause I didn't have time. Which is half a lie cause I had a date with Simon yesterday."

His lips pursed softly at the confirmation. He had seen the picture. Hand in hand, a bit too intimate. He stared at the image for longer than he should.

"And... long story short, they warned me, more like forced an exposition in the cons about getting involved with an older man." You sighed to catch your breath. "Like if I wanted to hear how my dad projected hard on that"

Miguel's eyes widened in mild surprise.

"That's why I asked if you ever felt like you were taking advantage of me.

You groaned into your hands and curled your knees up to your chest.

"What about you?"

You blinked

"Have you felt manipulated in any way?"

"Not manipulated. But kept in the shadows. I... I don't get along with lying or secrecy."

"That's why the blunt questions?"

You nodded with a tiny bashful smile.

"Sorry if I'm always asking or saying things that probably make you uncomfortable."

"Well, you're one of the few people I allow to do so."

You chuckled and bumped your shoulder against his arm playfully.

"I would like to say that you too, but it's only Hobie and you."

"Thought baguette boy too?"

You groaned. Tears long dry.

"Ya know... I'm starting to think you just don't like him."

"Neither trust him."

"Why though? Like... You said he was up to something. Have you met him before?" You gestured for him to explain himself.

"No."

"Then, you're just assuming things and being mean."

"No, I'm not. I don't have to know someone to see their intentions. It's intuition, preciosa."

"Alright. Let's talk about him. If you haven't met him before how can you tell me that he's lying or hiding something."

"Again, I was young once too"

"I swear if you call old yourself once more..."

He smirked, "What will happen?"

Your cheeks flushed mildly and he titrered. With a scoff you spoke again, "You were young once too, I know, but you're so cryptic! Just say it. I don't like him cause x thing."

"Alright. I don't trust nor like baguette boy since I know he just wants to get in your pants."

"Shocker." You deadpanned

"You're not understanding, muñeca. It's actually more dangerous than you think."

You scrolled through the conversation with Simon and showed it to him. A big brazen scoff came out his mouth while looking at you.

"¿Apoco no?" (Oh really?)

"English, por favor."

He smiled upon hearing the phrase.

"And that's precisely why I am telling you that is dangerous." He pointed at your phone. "Not that he's going to physically do something to you, and he better fucking not. More like... play with your feelings in order to get in your pants."

"You really think he's only getting closer to me cause of sex?"

"I've known men that pretend love for less."

"Have you done that?"

He scrunched his nose in disgust, "No. I rather be honest, even if that gets me the opposite outcome."

He waved a finger at you, the same way whenever he taught you something.

"It won't sound pretty. But tell me. Ever since he left, and based on what you've told me about him, did he ever try to keep in touch with you?"

"N-No. But, C'mon!, he was studying abroad. I don't know what college in France is, but-"

"He didn't, muñeca. He could've contacted you during vacations, but by your reaction, I can tell that he never did."

Your eyes gazed away from the awkward truth that had been put before you in a silver platter.

"He didn't have interest in you, until he saw you all gorgeous and amazing. And since you two have history is easy for him to approach you again."

He took your chin, and made you look at his face. Serious and sincere.

"Don't let him get what he wants"

"What if I do let him?"

He let your chin go and smiled softly.

"It'd be a shame."

"Would you be disappointed in me too?"

"No. But I won't hesitate in saying I told you so."

"My... you're kind of a jerk. But... I'm glad that I've met you."

"Not the... politest or righteous way to know someone but, yeah."

You both chuckled, you a bit sheepishly, then rested your head on his shoulder. Sunset surely made a scenery out of everything it touched. Miguel's fingers reached for your hair and caressed it softly, to then slid his hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently in an awkward hug.

"Better?"

"Yeah. You know you can count on me as well right?"

"I know."

"And if you ever feel in the blues or just want to vent out, I will listen."

"I know you will."

"Don't pull a Marguerite on me, please."

"What if I do?"

"Then, you better start looking for a new friend."

He squeezed you tighter, earning a little giggle.

"You've got a long day. Let's get you home."

---

TAG LIST:

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#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #older! miguel o'hara

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dandelions-143 · 10 days

Text

This Love

Part 2 of Who’s Gonna Hold You Like Me? Nofuckinbody!

Likes and Reblogs are highly appreciated

You can find Part 1 here

Other works: Masterlist

Pairing: Idol Changbin x f!reader

Warnings: cussing, heartbreak, smut, oral (f receiving) fingering, squirting, eludes to curvy/plus size f!reader. let me know if I forgot anything. The warnings are minimal.

Summary: Changbin has realized his feelings for you but, is it too late? Can you forgive him? Or has your relationship been torn apart too much… is it irreparable? Keep reading to find out

It had been nearly a month since the incident at the beach. Changbin didn’t contact you at first. For an entire week after your fight he left you alone. Which hurt incredibly. How could he not want to speak to you.. yes, you told him not to contact you but, wouldn’t he feel the need to try? It hurt you even more but, it also made your resolve more firm.

He now knew what you wanted and needed from him so he could either step up and fix this or leave you alone completely. Just when you slowly felt like you would be fine without him that’s when changbin decided to begin calling and texting you.

You didn’t answer but you read every text and listened to every message he sent. His soft words made you cry more often than not. But calling and texting meant nothing.. you needed more. You needed actions, talk was cheap to you.

“Fuck.” Changbin muttered under his breath as another one of his phone calls was sent to voicemail. This time he didn’t leave a message.. he was on the verge of begging you to talk to him but he still had too much pride for that. Chan came around the workout bench Changbin was currently sitting on and lightly clapped him on the back. “You good, bro?” Changbin had not been his usual bubbly self lately. He did his job and did it well, that was not affected but, when the cameras were off Changbin was just a ghost of who he had been.

The stocky man ran his fingers through his already messy black hair. “Yeah, just can’t get ahold of a friend.” He put his phone up and laid back on the bench to resume his workout. Chan stood over him to spot him. “You know you can talk to me. Whatever it is I got your back.” Changbin finished and slowly sat up, his head hung low.

He wanted to tell Chan but he had kept you a secret for so long. He looked over at Chan, a pained look on his face. “I really fucked up, Chan.” Admitting it out loud hit him harder than he thought it would. He felt his eyes stinging as the tears began to well up, threatening to spill over.

He had not cried over you yet, keeping it in and keeping it to himself had taken a toll. Not having you there had slowly began to kill him, that’s what it felt like to him. He let out a rushed, shaky breath as he opened his mouth to speak but the tears would barely let him. His words were choked, and broken. “I- I think I lost her.. I lost her.” And that’s when he began to sob uncontrollably. Chan instantly went to his friend and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tight. “Come on, let’s go back home and you can tell me what the hell happened.”

Back at their dorm Chan sat Changbin down on their couch and he let his best friend tell him everything. He told him about the sneaking out to meet you, he told him about the parties and the drinking. He told Chan how he had began to feel things for you the closer you two got but he was never the best partner and he was scared he would ruin you if he took things further than just kissing you. Obviously he was very wrong.. the emotional toll he had put on you did more damage than he thought.

Chan listened to him intently and even at the mentions of Changbin breaking some of the companies rules he decided not to scold him for it, he needed Chan, his friend not his leader right now. Changbin physically felt ill because he knew it was over and he knew it was all his fault. “What am I going to do.. I didn’t think it would hurt this much.” He ran a hand over his face to wipe away the tears. “I knew I would miss her but, I don’t get attached like this. Not when it comes to romantic feelings.”

That’s when Chan sat back and began to smile a little bit. He wasn’t saying anything just smirking. Changbin looked up at him expecting his best friend to be in thought, maybe trying to come up with a way to help him, but the idiot was smiling. “What! You think this is funny? Man, my fucking heart physically hurts!” Chan just chuckled and shook his head, “I find it funny that you didn’t even realize you had fallen in love.” He said it so easily, like it was a normal thing. Changbin, in love? Never.

“What are you saying? I don’t fall in love. That’s not what I do.” Changbin was growing annoyed. He wanted to know how to get his friend back. Chan just stood up to move and sit on the coffee table so that he was directly in front of Changbin. “Listen, from what you’re telling me you wanted to spend all the time with her as you could. Secret meetings nearly every day, you took her everywhere you went, you let her meet some of your friends. Except for us.” Chan gave him a stern look. Changbin just looked down at his hands. “You wanted to touch and kiss her and probably more which scared you because these physical feelings also came with emotional feelings so you decided to push her away instead of trying to sort your own feelings out.” Chan took a deep breath, “and now that she is gone you can’t stand it. It’s like your mind and your body are having withdrawals from her.” He put a strong hand on Changbins shoulder and gave him a little shake. “You’re in love and if I’m correct with how she handled your rejection, she’s in love too.. or she was.”

Changbin began to rub his temples, his head was spinning, was Chan right? Was he in love with you? He had never felt this way before. He needed time to process this before he made an attempt to see you.

You were sitting at your favorite coffee shop, an iced americano at your side and you were typing away on your laptop as you sat in the early morning sun. It was the first day in over a month where you felt like being outside. You wanted to be around people again. Changbin was still constantly on your mind. Even more now that he had stopped trying to contact you. You were always wondering what he was doing, where he was, if he had moved on so quickly.. if he missed you at all now.

Your neck was getting a little stiff by how long you had been sitting in that position. You couldn’t really focus on your work so you clicked over to your search engine to bring up instagram. You had decided to stop checking social media for any signs of him but, as your thoughts drifted to him you felt the need to just see what he had been up to lately. Changbin posted most things on instagram so you knew you would find something there.

Scrolling through his profile you saw a few new posts and he looked… he looked as handsome as ever. Your heart squeezed tightly. Missing him was the worst feeling you had ever felt. You let out a loud sigh, one that seemed to deflate your entire body. You slumped in your chair as you kept scrolling, your chin now resting in your palm.

“Is that your boyfriend? He’s pretty cute.” A very familiar voice startled you, causing you to knock over your coffee. You turned your head to see who it was, even though you would know that voice anywhere. As you turned your eyes locked with deep brown ones, a sweet smirk on soft lips, dark hair in its natural messy state. You knew if you stood up just then your knees would buckle beneath you.

“What are you doing here?” Those were the words that left your mouth but, what you really wanted to say was that you missed him and to give him a hug. Changbin licked his lips and hesitated for a moment trying to find his words. “I, uhh, wanted to.. no, I needed to speak to you.” He took a step closer to you, placing a hand on yours. “I missed you so much, if we could go somewhere more private and talk about what happened?”

His dark eyes were pleading and you could see a pain on his face that you had never seen before. You slowly moved your hand out of his grasp and then stood. His eyes followed your movements, as if he was afraid you would disappear if he took those eyes off of you. “Fine.. but make it quick. We can go back to my place.”

Nothing had changed since the last time Changbin had the privilege of being in your apartment. The space was small yet very homey with soft lighting and little green plants you had placed around in various corners and ledges. You had pictures of your family and friends along with small pieces of art you had collected since she was a teen. As he settled on the couch Changbin couldn’t help but remember the first time he had kissed you.

In that very spot he sat, flashes of heated touches, eager kisses, and the feel of your soft body pressed to his. He took a deep breath and let it out to shake the thoughts from his mind and to calm his nerves. He watched as you sat at the opposite end of the couch and turned to look at him, waiting.

Changbin cleared his throat before setting his eyes on yours. He wanted you to know just how sorry he was for how he treated you. “Y/n, I fucking miss you. I miss your laughter, the way you can’t hold back when you’re in a heated discussion, the little face you make when you’re concentrating really hard.” He couldn’t help but smile softly at that thought. “I know I fucked up… I was messing everything up even before we had that fight.” He kept his eyes on yours even when you faltered and looked down, he knew you were trying to hold back your tears, he could tell by the way your bottom lip quivered and your eyes were glassy with moisture.

It pained him deeply to see you like this and to know he was the cause of it. Changbing reached over and put his hand on yours, wrapping his fingers around your small hand and moving a bit closer to you. “I hate that it took this to make me realize what I was doing to you. I’m so sorry and I hope eventually you can forgive me.” That’s when he brought your fingers to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to them. You pulled your hand away when he did that, “No, Changbin you can’t do things like that… touch me that way.. kiss me that way. I understand you’re sorry but, we can’t go back to being friends. I can’t go back to whatever we were.” That’s when your tears began to flow.

Salty tears came in rushed rivulets down your soft pink cheeks. Changbin was not about to allow you to push him away this time. He had so much more to tell you. He moved even closer to, gently wiping away your tears with his hands softly on either side of your face. “You’re right, we can’t go back to what we were.” You looked at him in confusion and shock. You were not expecting him to agree with you. Before you could say anything Changbin took your lips with his. Kissing you softly, slowly.. almost like he was afraid you would break if he wasn’t careful with you.

Your tears were still flowing, coating both your lips and his as he kissed you, your breaths mingling, his strong hands moving to tangle in your hair. You eventually pulled away, out of breath and a bit shocked at what had just happened. “Changbin-“ You started but he stopped you by blurting out, “We can’t be what we were because I want more. I want your friendship and your love.. I want you.. all of you.” You looked at him as if he had two heads. You were floored, staring at him for a bit too long.. long enough to make him a bit uncomfortable.

“Y/n, say something.. please.” He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, he was looking at you almost pleadingly. After your initial shock wore off you finally gave in to all of your feelings and emotions for this man. You threw your arms around his neck, nearly sitting on his lap. Connecting your lips to his in response to everything he had said. The kiss this time was still slow but much more sensual. His tongue swiped over your lips asking for entrance. You didn’t hesitate to let him in.

Changbins hands were all over you, like he was memorizing every curve you hand. Soon you were both tugging at each other’s clothes. You pulled his shirt over his head, your hands instantly sliding over his hard chest and down his abs to tug at the waste band of his dark blue jeans. His kisses had become needy and rushed. You whimpered into his lips as his hands cupped and kneaded your ass, pulling you even closer to him. You could feel his stiff cock through the layers of fabric between you both, causing the wetness between her legs to pool and make your panties stick to you uncomfortably.

That’s when he picked you up effortlessly, his hands still holding you by her plump ass. His mind was reeling as he placed you gently on the bed. He couldn’t believe this was happening, he had you back, you were allowing him to see you in your most vulnerable state. Something even though he denied it in the past he only dreamed of seeing in person. Changbin began to remove your clothes piece by piece. He wanted to take it as slow as possible so he could take all of you in. Once you were lying there completely naked, he made sure to step back and just admire how beautiful you were.

His eyes took in the full swell of your perky breasts, the budding dark nipples hard and ready for him to suck and play with. He bit his lip at the sight of your soft stomach and the round curve of your hips, the slight stretch marks there. He wanted to kiss them, to touch and caress your thick thighs. “Spread yourself for me, baby. I want to see all of you.” You did as he asked, spreading your thighs wide for him and then to his shock you reached down and spread your lips for him. Allowing him to see just how wet you really were, your pink folds on display just for him.

Changbin kept his eyes on your pussy as he let out a guttural groan and he sank to his knees. “Fucking hell, Y/n.. such a pretty little pussy.” He watched as you ran your fingers through your slick pussy for him and he was mesmerized. He looked up at you, both of your eyes meeting in a silent question. “I’m all yours.. do whatever you want..just please.. do something, I need it.. I need you.” You pleaded in a soft husky voice, your body was buzzing with a deep need for him to touch you.. to fuck you.

He moved closer to your wet cunt. Placing kisses over and around the soft mound. Worshiping every single inch of your sex, he finally gave you exactly what you wanted. Changbin slowly licked up the wetness that had collected between your folds causing a sharp intake of breath from your parted lips, making your back arch for him and he loved it. “Oh, god.. Changbin.” You moaned his name, moving your hands down your body to tug on his thick hair. He watched your beautiful face, parted lips call out his name over and over again as he licked from your tight little hole to her swollen pink clit.

Slipping a finger inside of you as he sucked and played with your little bud, making you roll your hips for him. You were a complete and utter mess just for him, that’s when he put another finger inside of you, stretching you. He wanted you ready for him, all stretched out and finger fucked real good for him. “Cum around my fingers, baby. I want to feel you cum before I fuck you.” He spoke against your clit, his voice causing your pussy to vibrate with his voice and that nearly drove you into a frenzy.

You were writhing in pleasure for him, bucking your hips as he slid his fingers in and out of your slick hole, making the most delicious sounds of slick skin against slick skin. “Changbin.. please.. don’t stop, I’m cumming!” You moaned loudly, filling your bedroom with the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. Changbin felt you clench around his fingers just as your thighs began to shake, feeling the rush of your cum around his fingers. It drenched him and you, dripping down his hand and forearm, making a little mess on your bedsheets. “Fuck babe, you cum so good for me.” He was on the verge of coming undone just at the sight of you.

He pulled his fingers out and dropped his pants along with his boxers to the floor. Changbin wasted no time ripping the condom open he had been carrying in his wallet. He always kept one on him but he never thought he would be using it with you. Slipping it on his thick shaft he climbed over you, sliding his hands up her body, massaging and squeezing your soft flesh and loving every second of it. As he leaned down to suck and nip at your hard nipples he took his free hand and rubbed his hard, pulsating cock over your throbbing clit and through your drenched folds.

Changbin raised his head to move his lips up, kissing and sucking at the heated flesh of your neck then up to your jaw and finally your lips. He kissed you hard and slow. Making sure you could feel just how much you meant to him in that kiss. The kiss must have sent the message loud and clear to you because you opened your eyes that were heavy lidded with lust and met his loving gaze. You both kept your eyes glued to one another’s as Changbin slowly slid his now painfully erect cock inside your tight little hole. You both gasped at the same time in complete ecsatsy, Your hands began to grip and tug at Changbins body.

Running over his hard muscles feeling them move fluidly beneath his smooth skin. He began to move his hips, trying to keep a slow steady pace but, fuck did he want to bury himself deep inside of your warm pussy over and over again. Both of your body’s moved in unison.. as one. Changbin thrusting strongly into you, You lifting your hips just in the right way to meet his thrusts. “Mmm, baby you feel so fucking good… so tight.. I could fuck you forever.” He moaned your name when he felt you clench around his pulsing cock.

His movements became more erratic and rushed as he felt his own orgasm coming to a head. Sweat covered both your bodies making your skin slide easily over one another. You were so close to your own orgasm, the heat burning inside your lower stomach making you cry out for him to make you cum. “Please, Changbin… cum with me .. make me cum, oh fuck!”

That is all it took for him to reach his limit, he was pounding into you now, you both were chasing that high your bodies needed. Just when You couldn’t take it anymore you felt your orgasm unfold. Your body shaking, nails dragging deep scratches down Changbins back as you came hard. Clenching tight around his cock, your cum squirting and gushing around him, coating both of your thighs making the slapping of his skin against yours even louder.

Once he felt your orgasm clench and hold him in place he allowed himself to succumb to his own orgasm. His muscles tensed and shook around your body as you lay beneath him, the weight of him between your legs the most comforting thing you had ever felt. His thrusts became sloppy and his limbs shook with exertion, “I love you.. I love you..” Changbin repeated, his moans soft and sweet in your ear. As you both came down from your high he slowly rolled over, pulling out of you.

The bed was a mess and so were the both of you. Covered in sweat and each other’s cum. Once your heavy breathing slowed down he finally looked over at you. His dark chocolate eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration. You were a magnificent sight, hair a mess and tangled, body slick with a mixture of his sweat and yours, lips swollen from his kisses. You eyes met his and all he could do was reach over and grab your hand like he had earlier and kissed each and every one of them. “I love you, Changbin.. I always have.” You mumbled and rolled over to leave a lingering kiss on his lips.

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temporaryrose200 · 9 months

Note

Hello I just read one of your stories and I absolutely love your writing style. Is it ok if I request a short story of William James Moriarty x reader who is the youngest sister of Sherlock Holmes?

✩You’re something✩

✟pairing: William James Moriarty x Fem Reader

✟genre: Fluff?

✟warning:Not proof read

✟One-Short

✟fandom: Moriarty The Patriot

✟summary: Being a Holmes was tough, there was so much to live up to. But a special somebody helps you through it. Reminding you that you were someone.

✟a/n: None

Being the young sibling of the Holmes brothers wasn’t easily. Constantly being in their shadows, remembering every time when you would introduce yourself people would constantly asking if your brothers were Sherlock and Mycroft. It’s was annoying being the forgotten Holmes child. But there was one person who made you feel like the most special woman in the world. William James Moriarty. A charming man who knew exactly how to treat a woman.

The day you met was when you were going to met up with your brother Sherlock. Two of you arranged to met up with one another at a cafe and when you got there, you were met with a charming young man. Greeting your brother, you pulled up a nearby chair and sat yourself down on it. “Liam” Sherlock started, turning to his friend, a genuine smile forming on your brother face. “This my younger sister Y/N” he introduced, signalling towards your awkward and nervous form from have the spot light be put on you.

‘Liam’ gazed up at you, crimson eyes focusing intensely on you. Getting yourself ready from him to say something like: “ I didn’t know the Holmes brothers ha and sister” or something along those lines. But what you got instead was something you would never expect. The blonde haired man grinned fondly at you, strangely making all your worries melt away. “You wrote ‘Twist Of The Heart’ right.” Shock ran through your body at the mention of you old book, something you had wrote about 4 years ago. No publishing company wanted to take you because you were a woman, except one. Sadly the book was a failure and the future books you had in store were thrown away. But now hearing someone mention you not just as Sherlock’s sister but as your own person was a breath of fresh air. “It was an incredible piece of literature about unrequited love. Shame that you stopped writing.” It was odd heading someone talk so highly about you. But here you are be praised.

Fidgeting around with your hands, trying thinking of an appropriate response. But your brain was blank, and you were at a loss for words. You'd never been in this sort of situation before. "A-Ahh..." you stuttered out, feeling you throat tighten. “Thank you Mr Liam”

A chuckle rumbled from the man's chest as he shook his head. “My name is actually William James Moriarty”, he said to me with a smile.

Hearing the familiar name made your heart jump in your chest and you had to take a deep breath before you could speak again. "Moriarty?" You asked him, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice. “You mean!” The man nodded. You were so shocked that it took you several seconds to react but when you did, your face flush in embarrassment. How could you not recognise him! But most importantly, he read your book! “I’m so sorry!”

And that’s how a new friendship was formed. William and you continued to met up at nearby cafes or his house.Two of you had a lot in common and he so easily to talk to. Sherlock was starting to become jealous at how much William and you were hanging out. Your brother would say that you were stealing his friend, which you found quite adorable but don’t tell Sherlock that.

William helped you with gaining your confidence back and even with creating a new book. The story was a second part from your first book. This time the girl finds love with someone she never thought she’d fall for. Ironically though you fell hard for the noble man. It felt as if fate had brought him into your life. He was the perfect man, sweet, caring and oh so handsome. He made you feel so much emotions. You were head over heels in love, but did he love you? You were a nobody compared to your brothers. Just some washed up wannabe author. William was a nobleman, he would never fall for you. Right…?

#moriarty the patriot #yuukuko no moriarty #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukuko no moriarty x reader #x reader #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william moriarty x reader #sherlock holmes #⚰️

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jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd · 4 months

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Their reaction to reader having the exact same personality as them

the aot men when they realize you're just like them

eren jaeger finds you high-strung on most days but there are days where you two get along. he never realized how alike you two were until mikasa had pointed it one day. he insists he doesn't see it but he wonders if maybe that's the reason you bash heads so much.

armin arlert finds being around you incredibly peaceful. he enjoys your company over eren's and mikasa's, which is incredibly surprising to him. armin likes talking about everything and anything with you. his friends are glad he's found someone just like him.

connie springer and you...it's like an unstoppable force met an unmovable object. he thinks you're the funniest person on the planet, besides himself. he calls you his 'mini-me.'

jean kirstein thinks you're an angel. he thinks that you're smart, strong, and confident which are all traits he sees in himself. he wants you on his team for anything. there are days you two go at each others throat but you always end up making up a few days later.

reiner braun basically fell in love with you. he thinks very highly of himself so, of course, when you come along, he's immediately taken by you. he does have a few mixed feelings towards you and isn't quite sure just how to navigate them.

bertholdt hoover doesn't notice the similarities between you two. he just knows he enjoys your presence. you two don't ever butt heads because of your gentle natures. you enjoy parallel play.

levi ackerman just adores you. despite having the same personalities, he finds you to be a better person than he is. you, being his mirror, help him understand that he is deserving of love. he truly has a deep affection for you.

erwin smith's the type to take advantage of the traits you have. both in a good and bad way. he thinks you're strong, brave and a perfect soldier. in canon-verse, you'd be his favorite soldier, right next to levi. ultimately, i fear he'd lead you to your death.

zeke jaeger makes you his new best friend. he finds you incredibly interesting which isn't that surprising considering he impresses himself everyday. he likes taking walks with you and having intellectual conversation. he calls you his best comrade but i think there's always room for a potential romance.

porco galliard doesn't really care one way or another. he thinks you're alright as a person. he treats you the same as he does everyone else.

my jean fanfic

my ko-fi

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meowmeowriley · 3 months

Text

Convention Commotion

With help from the lovely @tactax-art, who encouraged me and drew the art for me, this is a lil continuation of the previous cosplayer AU for my beloved Costume Anon ❤ Hope everyone enjoys 😉 proper art near the end of the fic.

***

What had started as his uncle taking pity on him for not being able to go to a convention by himself, had become a tradition of sorts. Any time uncle John was on leave, he'd ask Andy if there were any conventions. And any time there were, they'd meet up with Simon.

"Ye cannae call him Simon, Andy. It's Lieutenant Ghost, or Lt., or Mr. Riley. Or anythin' else, really. Just show him some respect." Uncle John had chastised him after he'd asked once if Simon was gonna be at convention they'd just arrived at.

"Until he joins the army, Johnny, I'll have none of that nonsense." Uncle John had jumped out of his skin (Andy had too, but that was less surprising. He wasn't a highly trained soldier, after all.) when the big fucker had snuck up on them and began speaking. "Just Simon is fine, Andy."

"Chew ma banger, uncle John." He'd said with a shit eating grin, before ducking out of the way of his uncles swipes.

So they'd taken to meeting up with Simon at conventions. Andy had realized two things rather quickly. One: there was undeniable chemistry between the two of them, and two: neither one of them was going to make a move on the other.

They danced around each other. Flirting, but in a "ha ha, I'm only gay for the joke" kinda way. They stared at one another, getting lost in each others eye's in a sickening display of obviously clear affection. God forbid one didn't catch the other's eye, either, because when that happened the one staring would take on this dreamy dopey smile. They were constantly touching. Brushing up against one another, putting their hands on the other's shoulder, or back, or thigh.

They were disgusting. It was adorable. And he had to share it. Because if Andy could see how perfect they were together, so would the internet. 28,000 followers on tiktok later, and every convention they went to, Andy filmed the whole thing. He'd divvy up the videos and get months worth of content, to tide them over till his uncles next leave. Simon and uncle John had no idea how large their fan base was. Or how feral. Those who weren't hard-core shipping the two together, were vying for the attention of one or the other, or both, in the comments.

For most, though, they'd lose their minds with every little interaction. Every gentle touch, prolonged moment of eye contact, soft smile, or act of service from one man to the other, and their fans were swooning, and it seemed all their waiting was finally paying off. Or, at least, Simon was now aware of John's feelings, though how he'd found out was less than ideal.

***

Soap was ecstatic. After the Spiderman and Deadpool totally-not-couples-costumes went over so well with other patrons at their last convention, Andrew had assured them that their tiktok fans were over the moon for them as well, Simon had agreed to do more comic book stuff with him. While Soap had wanted to be Deadpool, he couldn't deny how well it suited Ghost to be the merc with a mouth. Soap hadn't known beforehand how much the man loved katanas, nor that he even knew how to use them. More important than his skill with the (in this case fake) blades, however, was Simon's ass in that outfit. Which had led him down a rabbit hole of sorts. Yes, it was the source of plenty of wet dreams both before and after seeing him in spandex, but that wasn't what this was about. No, after seeing Ghost dressed as Deadpool with his nearly godly physique, John couldn't help but think of the superior comic book company: DC. Ghost would make an incredible Red Hood, and Soap had wanted to be Nightwing since he was a lad. After voicing that desire, Ghost had agreed, and got to work on the costumes.

At some point during the process, Gaz had found him deep in his work and asked Ghost about it. He then promptly kicked down Soap's door to yell at him for not telling him about their 'convention dates' he wouldn't hear of it that they weren't dates.

"So Gaz is comin' now." He'd said in lieu of greeting when he'd entered Ghost's room that night.

"Mhmm." Ghost had nodded and continued to work away at his sewing machine. "Said he had a matching cosplay. 'Red Robin', he'd called it. Assured me it was different from mine. Tried to tell him I wouldn't know or care, I just enjoy makin the costumes." Soap had made himself comfy on Ghost's bed, and pulled out his journal to doodle. Ghost continued. "Roach is tagging along too, said he has a costume for Blue Beetle. Said it's not Batman related, but it's the same comic franchise."

"Blue Beetle's costume is pretty sick, that'll be cool." Soap had been a little down in that moment that the others would be tagging along, and he'd no longer have Ghost to himself, but he got over it quickly. They were still his friends. "We should drag Price along. Bring the whole team."

"You convince him to go, and just tell me what to make."

And now here they were. The 141, arguably the worlds most elite counterterrorism task force, dressed up as various DC characters. At a cosplay convention. Soap had never felt hotter.

Andy had hit it off with Roach pretty much immediately, the two of them talking at length about tiktok of all things. Soap wasn't aware that Roach had one. They couldn't convince Price to wear a costume, but that was okay. Several people approached him and said his Dum Dum Dugan colspay was cool, resulting in all three of his sergeants cackling at his confusion.

"You can't smoke that in here, boss." Ghost had whispered when Price placed a cigar in his mouth.

"I'm not. It's for emotional support." It fueled other peoples assumptions that he was cosplaying a marvel character, is what it was doing.

As was usual for a convention with Simon and his incredible cosplays, they were stopped by tons of people for pictures, and Andy recorded everything.

"Excuse me." Their group turned around to see a man in red, maroon, and gold robes of some sort.

"Oh, cool! Prince Zuko!" Well at least Roach knew who he was.

"Oh, uh, my friends call me Costume An-... You know what? Yeah. Just Zuko works. Can I get a picture of you guys?" Everyone nodded or gave the guy some sort of affirmative, and he turned specifically to Gaz and Ghost. "Do you know the panel where Tim kicks Jason in the balls? Can you do that? It's my favorite."

Soap knew the panel. Gaz knew the panel. Ghost certainly did not. All eyes were on him. He shrugged. "I'm wearing a cup." Gaz had the most feral grin Soap had ever seen him with. In hindsight, that should've been their warning.

"Right, Lt., you're gonna stand here," Gaz placed Ghost with his back to the cameras held by both Zuko and Andy. He used his foot to guide Ghost's stance wider. "Like that. Perfect. Everyone ready?" Gaz had the cheek to wink at Andy's camera.

He reared back.

And gave it everything he had.

That cup could only do Simon so much good.

Everyone winced as Ghost crumpled. "Gaz what the bloody fuck?!"

Price was barely keeping a straight face. He used his hand to grab his cigar and hide his failure. "Haven't heard your voice that high since you enlisted, Simon."

"He's dead." Soap whispered.

"You're dead." Roach informed Gaz as he made his way away from Ghost, who was still crouched on the floor.

"I'm dead." Gaz agreed, albeit with a shit eating grin. "Worth it, though. Bastard used me as a training dummy for forty-five goddamn minutes yesterday!" Soap had seen the aftermath, Ghost was pissed at some rookies and dragged poor Gaz into the ring to blow off some steam. The bruising all over Gaz's body were no joke.

"You said you weren't going to hold it against me!" Ghost wheezed.

"I lied!" Gaz shot back.

"Dude..." Andy definitely felt bad for poor Ghost, as did Soap.

"Man I needed those working." He bemoaned. Talk about foot in mouth, he hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Oh, d'you two get your shit together? I'm sorry, I guess." Gaz laid a hand on Soap's shoulder.

"You'll apologize to him and not to me?!" Ghost's voice was marginally less strained and more angry.

"I was apologizing for accidentally cockblocking you two. I didn't know." Well neither did Ghost! John thought angrily.

"WHAT?!"

"GAZ!"

Gaz clearly realized his mistake, because Ghost was on his feet, and Soap himself was fuming at being outed like that. He bolted. Soap gave chase, and could hear Ghost charging after as well.

***

Andy turned to their new buddy, Zuko. "You'll send those to me, right?" He asked. He didn't really feel like Simon deserved that, but damn was it funny.

"He's gonna be okay, right?" Zuko asked.

"Ghost has taken worse hits. Gaz might need medical leave when they catch him though." Roach said while laughing. Soldiers were weird. But damn tiktok was gonna love this. Maybe they would finally get their shit together after they finish breaking their friend's legs.

#ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #cod mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare #fanfic #fanfiction #text post #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #gary roach sanderson #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #cosplay #cosplay au #cod fanart #cod fanfic

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