#i could have done more neon but i like these shots

[holybibly]

IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part I Part 2

Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au

Word Count: 6,6k

Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.

WARNING: only!18+ pet names, explicit sexual content, explicit language, unprotected sex, pussy eating, size kink, oral giving and receiving, double penetration, threesomes, dirty talk and more.

A/N: Here they are, our winners. I'm a little overjoyed because I'm about to try out a new style for myself (BTW, which of my styles of my work do you love most? Answer in the comments, it will help me much). One of the things I have to learn is the writing of shorter chapters. This one was so long that I had to split it into two parts. The second part won't take too long either.I'm still trying my best to write smut. So please be gentle with me.

There will be an update in a separate post about the rest of the work. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

One year ago.

It was a feeling of sweet euphoria coursing through your veins. Pure, scalding ecstasy that frothed your blood and clouded your mind. Multicolored neon lights licked greedily at your wet, naked skin, leaving acid green and poisonous pink burns on it. All your senses were overloaded, and every touch felt like a liquid flame. The throbbing bass of the deafening music echoed through your body like the beating of your own heart and completely consumed all of your other senses, except for absolute pleasure.

You lost track of the amount of alcohol you had consumed that day, shot after shot, until a pleasant fog began to form in your head, blocking out all other thoughts. The tequila flowed down your throat like water, and you were sure you'd remember how it tasted in the morning, but you didn't care what you'd done tonight or how you knew you'd feel tomorrow. You didn't care about that. Your aim was to forget yourself, to disappear into the crowd, to merge with the music until any connection to the outside world was nothing more than the beginning of the next day.

Dance, baby, dance!

The atmosphere in the club grew fuzzier and fainter, sweaty, hot bodies pressed closer together merging, the hot touches of forbidden pleasures caressing the skin with the fingertips of strangers, wet lips touching the bare, sticky skin on you shoulders, pressing rough impatient kisses into it. Too many people and too many strangers are here for nothing but fuck.

You weren't a stupid little girl who believed in virginal marriage and pink ponies; to be honest, you were far from that gentle picture. God, Wooyoung, and San had been your best friends since high school, and now you were at university, and if after all that time you couldn't repeat every position in the Kama Sutra by heart, it really surprised you. Innocence and modesty were the last words in your vocabulary, and with Wooyoung's big mouth, you were well aware of the whole of theirs sex life. And when you say everything, you mean every fucking detail, and to Wooyoung's credit, he has a great memory and meticulous storytelling.

How long has it been since you started dancing? 20 minutes—or was it two hours? You could swear that Sang and Ueyoung were at your side a minute ago. Or did they leave you alone on the dance floor hours ago?

You can't remember at all.

Your mind is buzzing, your fingertips are tingling, and your heart is pounding against your ribs from the adrenaline rush of matching the beat of some new-fangled track and creating a world of your own inside your body. This sound will vibrate more and more strongly under your skin until your brain ceases to function, allowing you to let go of all the worries in the world and give yourself over completely to the music. Alcohol really does work wonders.

Man, you felt so good.

In the back of your drunken mind, you can't help but wonder if tonight could have gone differently. Probably, but here you are, drunk as hell, huddled with a stranger on a neon dance floor instead of a soft bed in your favorite man's arms. Where the hell did you take the wrong turn? It would seem that something in the universe hasn't gone quite according to plan. Did you have any idea this morning that your sweet, perfect boyfriend would be cheating on you? Correction: he's been cheating on you for a long time. You probably never would have found out if you hadn't come home from couples earlier than usual and continued to be his "convenient girlfriend." Hell, it wasn't nice, and maybe not as hurtful, if he'd been fucking someone else instead of your best friend. Were you that bad? Weren't you good enough? Either way, you've still got time to destroy yourself—maybe tomorrow, maybe never.

Maybe you'll even think about it when you visit the bastard in the hospital. He should have known better than to even think about cheating, and the clotted blood on San's knuckles proved that. Everyone at the university knew that you were Ateez's golden girl, and to mess with you was to mess with them. And since you, Wooyoung, and San were literally glued to each other, it was tantamount to suicide. 

At the moment, the only thing that was more upsetting than the image of your ex-boyfriend driving his dick all the way up to his balls into your ex-friend's skinny body was the fact that your beautiful vintage sofa would have to be thrown away. Semen doesn't wash off. You checked.

Hongjoong is going to be absolutely devastated. That sofa was the absolute love of his life.

It's all nothing more than a vague memory of the day gone by, mixed into an indecipherable cacophony of shrill screams and blurred images. To be honest, you don't remember much of the chaos, as Wooyoung pressed your face against his chest with such force that you wouldn't be surprised to see your make-up imprinted on the light fabric of his shirt. All you could hear was loud cursing and the sound of a punch in the face. You hoped that San's punch was strong enough to break the asshole's jaw. And after that, there were a few hours of tears and emotional crisis until they'd had enough and pulled you into this club with a gentle and accepting hand: "Come on, baby, you could use a break and a change of scenery" from San, and "Fuck that scumbag, go show him what he's lost, baby" from Wooyoung. It was an absolute mystery how the two of them synchronized perfectly.

You have no idea what you would do without these two.

A few more minutes go by in this way, until you feel hot hands on your hips, pulling you closer to the hard body on your back. You don't have to turn around to see that it's San; the scent of his perfume, mixed with the sweat and the smoke of a freshly smoked cigarette, makes you dizzy, and you rest your head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath of the intoxicating mixture. Suddenly you want to get as close to him as possible, turn around and press your face against his hard, structured chest, breathing in deeply and sinking into him completely. Your arms reach out behind you and wrap around San's neck, tangling your fingers in the scarlet strands of hair at the nape of his neck. You feel it on your back as the action makes him purr like a cat. You wonder what other sounds you might be able to catch him making.

You shake yourself. The thought of it sends shivers down your arms and makes all the muscles in your lower abdomen tingle.

You should stop. These are bad thoughts. Very bad thoughts.

"Damn, baby girl, how much did you drink while we were away?" Wooyoung's voice is rough and husky, but his touch is gentle and careful as his fingers intertwine with yours. He has always touched you in a way that no other man in the world, with the exception of him and San, has ever been able to touch you. There was no comparison with your ex's touch. Wooyoung's touch is a promise. A promise to protect, to care, and perhaps to love? You could swear you saved the planet in your past life because you have such great friends in this one, or maybe a little more than friends, but you're not sure what to call this feeling. 

You had been friends for so long that it wasn't weird not have a crush on Wooyoung or to dream of being married to San. The guy was literally a walking husband; he was second only to Songhwa in that respect, but please, Hwa was the epitome of husband material. You might even have wanted to be in the middle of it, sandwiched between hot bodies while they literally fucked the life out of you. But it was all just thoughts. Fleeting dreams that clung to the edges of your consciousness. You were the type to date, and they were the type to fuck. You were different when it came to loving. In any case, it was all a long time ago. You had a boyfriend, and Wooyoung and San collected girls like Pokémon. Somehow, you were sure that if you slept together, your friendship would end.

You weren't ready for that. With a strength that only Jongho could match, you ignored any romantic feelings for them

"Mmm… Woo, I have no recollection, but I had fun." You licked your lips as if you were trying to taste the lingering taste of the tequila and opened your eyes to stare straight into Wooyoung's face, full of worry. He could have been the biggest bitch if he wanted to be. But for you, that 'maternal' instinct of overprotection has kicked in. You stare at him unblinkingly in that moody light, he looks beautiful, to the point of being stupidly handsome, so damn handsome that you want to pull him to you and kiss him without explanation or reason. And you can do that because you know he's never, ever going to say no to you but kiss you? Wooyoung's tongue will be the first to enter your mouth. He will suck on it like a drunk, and he will hold on to you until there is almost no air left in your lungs.

"We leave you alone, gongjunim, for five minutes, and you're already in trouble. Shall I give you a lesson in obedience?" San is speaking into your ear, loud enough for you to hear him clearly, each word coming through the loud electric bass. His voice is too sultry to be sober enough. Woo probably talked him into a few shots, although he always got drunk pretty easily. The two were threatening each other. And to you as well.

The evil voice inside your head grinned: You know you want it. He's going to punish you for being such a bad, naughty girl. He will teach you to be the best little girl for him and for them and to follow all his rules. He'll make you beg and make you cry…

Fuck, girl, come to your senses. Since when did you start to think with your pussy instead of using your brain? Or do you automatically turn into a horny, over-excited idiot after a break-up? Turn on your brains; they are your best friends.

Completely ignoring San's words, you whimpered:

"I'm thirsty." Your tongue is dry in your mouth, and your lips feel unpleasantly rough as you say the words. It looks like the fun's over for today.

San can't help but laugh at your capricious behavior, and you wriggle restlessly in his arms, trying to free yourself from his firm grip, but he only manages to hold you even tighter. You sigh in annoyance and decide to try your luck with Wooyoung.

"Woo, help me." You whine again, reaching out and pulling Wooyoung closer so that your forehead rests against his collarbone.

He smells good, like sandalwood and vanilla, like home.

Wooyoung lifts your face with his fingertips. The touch is soft and comforting, despite the roar of the music and the crowd of strangers around you. He stares intently into your eyes, almost too serious for your drunken haze. He hopes to find something more than alcohol-induced excitement.

"Come on, baby. It's time to go home." He releases your hand and carefully wipes the sweat from your forehead and cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, his fingers lingering on your lips for a moment, and you playfully stick out your tongue and lick the pads of his fingers. God, may you not remember this tomorrow.

"But I don't want to…" You purse your lips again. You turn your head towards San, looking for his support. "Sanni, let's stay a bit more." Your big, shining eyes are not making it easy for him, but you were already quite drunk, and judging by the way your body was leaning against him, you could hardly stand properly.

"Wooyoung's right, gongjunim, it's over for you today."

Something wild in you just wants to be a brat and start arguing, but the rational part of your brain wins out. You sigh tiredly and try to wriggle out of his grip, and of course you stumble, grabbing Wooyoung's biceps with your hands in an attempt to stay on your feet and not break your high-heeled leg, which would be a great way to end the night.

A strong arm immediately wraps around your waist. It digs lightly into the exposed skin between your top and your jeans. You can feel the coldness of the thin band of his ring. It actually burns from how sensitive you were now.

"I got you, chagi." San whispers softly and hoarsely into your ear, and you cling even more tightly to Wooyoung's arm as your legs begins to shake, but no longer from the alcohol you've drunk and the tiredness, but from his sultry tone. Damn, was that a saturi, or was it just your imagination?

"We'll be on our way now, for sure." Wooyoung takes your hand once more, pulling it away from his bicep, and quickly leads you through the crowd of sweaty bodies, completely ignoring your feeble protests until you see the flashing exit sign. The red neon sign brings you ominously close to the point where you are left alone with them. And you feel San's heavy presence at your back like never before. 

The sounds of the city swallow you up and make you dizzy as Wooyoung opens the heavy metal door. Couples are kissing all over the place. Noisy groups of people are huddled together waiting for a taxi or sharing a single joint, leaving a faint smell of weed in the air. You can still hear the vibrating bass of the music that is pouring out of the club; it echoes in your head in an unpleasant way, with a slight throbbing pain. All of a sudden, all you want to do is find yourself in a warm bed, snuggled up against San or Wooyoung, or even better, against both of them.

San's hand on your waist tenses as you bend over to hail a taxi. Wooyoung's hands come down on your hips, hot and strong, and just like that, you find yourself sandwiched between them, their bodies shielding you safely from the searing cold and dirty stares. You could swear that you can hear Wooyoung swears to himself while a drunk guy is moving his tongue between two spread fingers and looking in your direction. San's body tenses instinctively. What's with all this protection? We're not in some kind of alpha-character romance; you can take care of yourself.

But in spite of that, your body still relaxes, your head leans back against Wooyoung's shoulder, and you rub your face against his like a cat.

"You're so drunk, baby." Woo chuckles and gives you a light kiss on the top of your head. "That's my girl."

My girl, just the sound of that one sentence makes a little fire start in your belly. What the hell is wrong with you today? A week ago, you were rinsing his mouth after Woo drank too much, and now you're ready to lick his mouth from the inside. 

Fuck.

All these thoughts make you lose track of what's happening until you feel the smooth leather of the car seat beneath you and the soft touch of San's lips on your bare shoulder. You moan, either from annoyance or excitement. San just smiles and presses his lips harder against you. Finally, you are going home.

You faintly hear Wooyoung giving the Uber driver the coordinates of your apartment complex, your hands intertwining again, relaxing further as Wooyoung's head rests on your shoulder. His long hair tickles the back of your neck.

Sobriety slowly begins to clear your head as the ride continues. You're still drunk, but you're much more aware than before.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, but in the confined space of the car's backseat, they can hear it well. It sets them in motion again, hands clasped around you with renewed confidence. You play mindlessly with the silver rings that adorn Wooyoung's long fingers, and you don't go unnoticed by San's light strokes on the outside of your thigh.

"All for you, chagiya." San whispers back and gives Wooyoung a meaningful look. There's something special between the two of them—a dialogue that is spoken without words but in which they both know exactly what is meant. If only you knew what was going on inside their heads…

You let your hand drop to Wooyoung's muscular thigh and ran the palm of your hand over it a couple of times, feeling the tight muscles under the skin of his trousers. He covers the palm of your hand with his own and squeezes it in a silent, gentle gesture of affection.

"I love you guys…" You whisper, sticking out your tongue to lick your suddenly dry lips. You hear them giggling together before you feel San press his nose against the soft skin of your collarbone, rubbing against it like a cat. He's the ultimate cinnamon bun; how he can be someone who's had sex with half the university is still a mystery to you.

"I love you too, gongjunim." And he means it, like he really loves you—much more than a friend should.

"Mmm, I love you more. You know that, baby." Wooyoung bites the skin on the back of your neck in a playful way, and you feel his wet tongue pressing against the site of the bite for a few seconds. 

"You're not sleeping in my bed. Woo, stop it; that tactic won't work on me anymore."

He whimpers back with a puff of his swollen lips, turning his face away from you with an irritated roll of his eyes as you and San laugh, his arms naturally wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body so that you're practically sitting on his lap. A faint melody, from some kind of soft track, pours out of the speakers and lulls you into a state of serenity. You find it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. Your body relaxes even more in San's arms.

The next twenty minutes fly by, and you only begin to wake up when the cab door slams behind you and Wooyoung drags you into her flat. The fobs on your keys jingle loudly in the silence of the corridor as San fiddles with them to unlock the door. You sway in Woo's arms as you wait for the door to your apartment to open. The soothing scent of neroli and orchids greets you as you enter, your body automatically relaxing into the safety of your personal space, and you fall wearily into the armchair opposite sofa.

As the door closes, you hear the sound of the boys hurrying down the corridor, taking off their shoes and jackets. You can imagine San carefully placing his shoes next to yours and Wooyoung's one shoe being kicked further down the corridor. So damn different.

Woo sprints into the kitchen, slams the door of the fridge shut, and there is a bottle of cold water in front of your face.

"Here you go, starlight." He sinks to the floor at your feet and leans back against them, resting his head in your lap as he does so. You run your fingers through his long black hair, brushing it away from his face, and meet his gaze with your own. It's familiar; away from the deafening music and the sweaty crowd, you feel much better now, despite the fact that a few hours ago your ex was fucking your friend on the couch across the hall. This is still your home, and you're sure that in a few days your entire apartment will be taken apart and put back together by the caring hands of Seonghwa and Yeosang, when there won't be a trace of your failed past relationships left.   "Are you okay?" San asks, leaning against the doorjamb.

"I'm… fine, yeah. Probably not as good as I'd like to be, but I'll be fine; it'll just take some time. At the moment, I'm just tired of it all."

"Go take a shower, sweetie; San and I will take care of the rest." Wooyoung says as he gets up from the floor and pulls the leather jacket off of his shoulders. The wide collar of his black t-shirt shows the tattoo on his back. You always found that part of him extremely sexy.

You rise from your chair, grimacing at the pain in your legs after so many hours in high heels. Your top falls to the floor as you take it off, the lace of your black lingerie clinging to your body like a second skin. They've seen you naked more than once or twice, and in any case, you're not one of those cute girls who blushes at every opportunity. You have to struggle to pull your jeans down your legs because they are so tight around your arse. The next thing to come off is your underwear, which you leaves halfway to the toilet somewhere. You let them take care of that too.

The level of intimacy that you have with San and Wooyoung is so high that it virtually erases any barrier to acceptable standards of friendship. Years of shared memories, from when you started high school to when you practically star graduates of Seoul National University. God, the things you've done and the situations you've been in—it's been a hectic time. The three of you literally know each other to your bones—sharing habits, feelings, clothes, and even some sexual practices under the influence of alcohol and chance. You've seen them fuck; they've held your hair when you've puked, helped with periods, you've seen them jerking off in the morning or heard them moaning loudly in the bathroom, you all watched porn together—it's all been part of your friendship. In a way, the three of you have been completely and utterly shameless.

You close the bathroom door and stare wearily at your reflection in the large mirror. Your hair is disheveled from those beautiful waves there's not a trace, your skin is glistening with sweat, your make-up looks messy—a bit of smudged eyeliner, smeared lipstick—and in general, you look like you've been beaten up. The pupils of your eyes are dilated, even though you're still feeling sleepy, and there's a bit of puffiness under your eyes from previous tantrum.

Wow, you look like a real mess. You turn away from the mirror, turn on the tap of water, and sink back into your usual daily routine. The water cleanses not only your body but also your mind, spectacularly washing away all the memories and regrets of the day.

It seems to be at least a minute before you hear the sound of a heavy knock on the door. San's voice is muffled over the sound of water and steam, rough, husky, and incredibly sexy, sending electric shocks through your body and unexpected heat building between your thighs. Your fingers turn the handle, stopping the water from flowing, and you take a few long breaths, trying to get rid of this strange feeling. What's wrong with you today?

"Chagi, are you okay?"

You mooed in response, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped the towel around your body before opening the door to face him. He's standing across the bathtub, slumped against the wall, so soft and fluffy, when you open the door. San has changed into a pair of loose pajamas, which are very cute, according to your taste. He has washed off his make-up and generally looks more like an adorable bun than the voluptuous demon he is supposed to be at the university.

"What the hell took you so long? Wooyoung's already starting to climb the wall from here." He whimpers with a pucker on his lips.

"I needed some time to myself, Sanni."

He bites his bottom lip before nodding. His burning gaze travels over you from head to toe, lingering a little longer than usual on your thighs and breasts, and your body heats up at the sensation. When your eyes meet, there is an emotion that you are unfamiliar with that hovers just above the surface of his gleaming dark irises. Something predatory flashes across his face, just for a second, but it's enough to make your skin tingle with an unknown sense of anticipation.

"Just a few more minutes, and then I'll be on my way, all right? Tell Wooyoung to be a little more patient."

"Alright."

You step back into the tub, close the door behind you, and press your back against the wall. You bite your lips, trying to hold back a groan of disappointment. It's not that after all these years of friendship you've never felt sexually aroused in their presence; after all, Wooyoung and San were so damn attractive and even flirtatious to the point of insanity, they fit the cliché of lusty, popular boys at university so well.

Perhaps you had once or twice wondered what it would be like to be close to one of them, or even better, both of them—what their bodies would feel like and what their tastes would be like. Yet, consciously ignoring any romantic urges in their direction, you buried those thoughts deep in the back of your mind. You didn't want to think about how beautiful San's smile was, with those sweet dimples, or how your skin burned under Woo's playful, incessant kisses. But those were only fragmentary thoughts, a dangerous feeling creeping into your heart.

For a while your hunger for them was satisfied by a succession of boy toys until you found yourself a steady boyfriend, well until you caught him with one of your girlfriends tonight. Either way, the sex was hardly satisfying enough to get too upset about, but still, the ache in your heart and your bottom-punched self-esteem stung like a bitch.

But today there was something different between the three of you; on a day like any other, there was a different feeling. It wasn't anything special; San's tearful face had been tucked between your breasts more than once or twice after another romantic fiasco, and Wooyoung had been a complete fool in love, getting burned so many times because he wore his heart on his sleeve. You have been friends long enough to know how to comfort each other after breaking up. You have never experienced such a tension between the three of you before.

There was a barely perceptible change in the air; there was an electric tension in the chemistry between you; a crackle in the air like a thunderstorm was about to break. The storm was coming at a furious pace, and you weren't sure if you were going to be able to handle it. To end up between them was like voluntarily stepping into a hurricane rated at twelve. Was that what you wanted? You probably did. Did they want it? There was no way of knowing. Would things have changed if you'd fucked, yes, of course, but would you have had a 'happily ever after', you weren't so sure.

You brush your hair with your fingertips, hissing in pain when you can't untangle the tangled locks, and continue this compulsive action as you step out of the suddenly claustrophobic space of the bathroom. The corridor is cold, and the change in temperature causes goose bumps to run down the length of your skin. Cold air climbs under the towel's edges, clinging uncomfortably to your tender inner thighs.

"I left some fresh clothes for you on the dresser next to the bathtub. Didn't you notice?" San asks. His pronunciation is as simple as if he hadn't been the one who just a few minutes ago ate you alive with his eyes. He is sitting on the arm of the chair Wooyoung is comfortably ensconced in, mindlessly scrolling through social media.

The couch, which was once your favorite place to be, is clearly in disuse. You're already anticipating Hongjoong's endless complaints about it. That couch was the love of his life.

Wooyoung has changed his clothes too; there's no trace of the seductive college hottie left; the stretchy top of the oversized shirt slipping off his shoulders to expose his collarbones made him look so tiny and cuddly; and the soft disheveled hair falling over his face gave his features something adorably puppyish. They both looked homely and terribly comfortable, as if this was legitimately their home and not yours, as if their place had always been here, the space they belonged to.

"It's stuffy. I don't want to get dressed." You reply, pulling the towel tighter around your chest. You actually contradict yourself by wrapping your arms around yourself, but you don't want to explain anything to them either.

"Personally, I like it all; you can keep going, baby."

"Of course you like it, Woo; we all know about your love for exhibitionism." You say this nonchalantly and let your body fall into Wooyoung's lap, not caring that you're actually naked under the towel or that his shirt is getting wet as the water from your wet hair drips onto it. You're trapped between their bodies again, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like the feeling. You savor his scent and the feel of his smooth skin as your face sinks into the curve of Woo's neck.

You all sink into a nice, relaxing silence as the boys scroll through endless social media feeds, your eyes grow heavier, and the need for sleep becomes more palpable. But you love it so much—just being around them, not thinking about anything else, feeling the way San's fingers play with your hair while you twirl the rings on Woo's fingers—that you probably have a fetish for his hands. Anyway, you don't mind.

Minutes go by like this, slowly approaching an hour. You feel content and warm as you sit on Wooyoung's gorgeous muscular thighs. He is humming something to himself, drawing scattered patterns with his fingertips on your bare thigh. Your lips press against Woo's neck, leaving a sweet kiss on his skin. He squirms beneath you, his fingers clenching tighter and tighter on your thigh. God, he's so hot.

"You're so needy, kitten," San says with laughter before you feel his lips on your shoulder. It's not a chaste, friendly kiss; no, his lips are wet with saliva, open so you can feel the scorching breath and his tongue tip gliding across your skin in slow motion. San is licking you like a cat, damn it.

"Is this a side effect of the break-up or something like that? Look at you, Peach. You're a horny mess." Wooyoung raises an eyebrow in curiosity and pulls you closer to his chest. You slide down his thighs, and the towel scratches a little higher, a little more, and they can easily see your pussy. At that thought, the familiar throbbing between your legs reminds you just how wet you are, the viscous, clear liquid threatening to run down the inside of your thighs and stain Woo's clothes.

Praying that neither of them will notice how flushed and horny you feel at this moment, you squeeze your legs together and slide your hand down to pull the towel further down your legs, as far down as possible in this position.

You're so thirsty; the lust is bubbling just beneath the surface of your skin, and the heady mix of their scent and the residual alcohol in your blood is making you feel like such a needy slut.

The rational part of your brain tells you that you should be in a completely different state right now—a mess of tears and snot, probably on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown. Somewhere between the self-destruction of your own self-esteem and a crisis of identity, But here you are, practically naked in Woo's arms, with an obscenely wet pussy and no shame whatsoever.

In contrast to the'real' half of you, something small and evil urged you to go further, to spread your legs, to expose yourself shamelessly, to ride Wu's thigh and have a hot rodeo until you couldn't cum any more, and then let San use you however he wanted; you don't mind at all being a chew toy for him. Hell, boy, all you want to do is let him fuck your brains out.

You sink your teeth into your lower lip with force; the taste of blood is almost in your mouth.

"Fuck me. I want to sleep, baby. You can use me. Let's go to bed."You whine, puffing up your cheeks.

"Okay, okay, baby, let's put the princess to bed." San lifts you from your place on Woo's lap and pulls you tightly against his chest, and you can clearly feel every ripple of muscle on that perfect body. When did he have time to get that big?

He carries you into the bedroom like a princess. Wooyoung's shuffling footsteps can be heard behind you, and you throw your head back to meet his gaze.

"We had a change of sheets. Personally, I'm in favor of burning all his stuff."

"Have I told you I love you?"

"Mmm, let me think. Maybe just a few thousand times." He gives you a cheeky smile, and you laugh.

"Love, love, love, love, I love you so much. You're the best boys in the world. You sing with a big smile on your face, and the sound of their laughter fills the bedroom. 

"We love you too; we love you so much."

If you weren't so drunk and tired, your brain might have been able to process Wooyoung's changed intonation, but you completely ignored any possible hint of how they felt about you.

San gently laid you down on the bed, and Woo's lithe body crawled beside you, snuggling against your side, hugging you like his personal teddy bear.

"Woo, let her go; she has to put on some clothes." He pulls off his T-shirt and holds the soft fabric out in front of you. Your hands lazily crumple it up in an attempt to decide whether or not to put it on, but the boys decide for you. 

Wooyoung sits you down and holds you tightly by the waist while San pulls the T-shirt over your head and pulls off the towel at the same time. You are still naked, but you are a bit more decent now.

"You're such good friends. I wish I could date someone like you." You lie back down, and Woo's hands paddle you again, as if it's his natural reflex. You're not aware of the exchange of glances between the two of them. The silent conversation that goes on between them is completely ignored.

"Hmm, someone like us?" San sits down on the bed in front of you, and in an instant, your fingers cling to his naked chest. You want so badly to sink your teeth into the smooth, bulging muscles of his chest. "Baby, aren't you afraid we're going to be jealous?"

"You and jealousy, come on. I went out with Suho, and none of you minded."

"It's because the idiot has a tiny dick." With an evil giggle, Woo whispers in your ear.

"Wooyoung!"

"He's right, chagia. When was the last time you had an orgasm?"

"San, not you too." You whine and give him a light tap on the shoulder.

"Well, if you were with someone like us, you'd know what it means to have a good fuck. We'd fuck your brains out, baby."

"Jung Wooyoung, wash your filthy mouth. San, tell him." You call out to your more rational friend in a resentful tone to calm Woo down.

"Well, I can't say that he's wrong. You won't be on foot for days after we are." The grin on San's face is so predatory that you can't tell that it's your sweet himbo friend. It's making the muscles at the bottom of your stomach clench in anticipation of this promise.

"You do know that I used to sleep with Yunho before I started dating Suho, right? You can hardly come as a surprise to me; he's very good."

"We know." Woo hissed in annoyance, and his arms tightened around you, planting his foot on your thigh and completely cutting off any attempt you might have made to pull away from him, even if you wanted to.

"But we're so much better." A hot palm slides just over your waist near to Wooyoung's hand, practically covering your breasts. You feel the full weight of it on your body.

"In your dreams."

For a few moments, you close your eyes and fall silent. The comforting silence lulls you to sleep, but there is one thought that keeps you from falling completely into a deep slumber. With a groan, you come back to reality, blinking slowly as your brain forms the words that seem to be too heavy on the tip of your tongue—heavy, but so damned sweet.

"I wanna… I mean, let's have threesome." 

"Sorry, what!" Wooyoung almost yells, sitting up in bed in an instant and staring at you with his eyes wide open. If the situation wasn't so serious, you could laugh at his shocked expression. "Is it an offer for sex? Right now?"

"Jesus, Wooyoung, just let me finish." You sit down as well and take each one of them by the hand. "We graduate next year, and if… if we are all free and you don't mind, maybe we can have threesomes."

"I'm ready. Why wait?" Woo clings to you like a leech. He presses every inch of his body against you so tightly that you practically melt into each other. His skin is hot, and you can feel his breath brushing against your ear and his lips touching it as he speaks. "Come, Y/N, we can do this now. I'm going to take you to heaven."

"Wooyoung, I'm serious."

You have to look at San, who's been silent the whole time. The look in his eyes is so dark, full of lust and hunger. It doesn't leave you for a second.

"San…"

"I'll do anything for you, Y/N."

"I'll be ready for you in a year if you're still willing. Now get out of the room, the both of you. Tonight I'll be alone in bed."

You push them off the bed, San rolls over on the floor with a clatter, and Wooyoung jumps up like a man who has been scalded.

"But chagi…" He whines, loud and nasty, as San drags him out of the room.

"Sweet dreams, gongjunim." That's the last thing you hear before the door slams shut behind them and you're left alone in the bedroom.

You can hear their muffled voices coming from the hallway, trying so hard to keep quiet. Wooyoung's incessant complaining, mixed with San's low muttering, effectively lulls you to sleep. You probably won't even remember tonight, let alone this stupid proposal, but little do you know that neither San nor Wooyoung have any intention of letting you forget.

You are going to have a very funny year in front of you.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #kpop smut #ateez fanfic #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez ot8 #ateez imagines #seonghwa smut #ateez san #san smut #hongjoong smut #ateez wooyoung #yunho smut #woosan

[norrizzandpia]

Hurt Me Once (OP81)

Summary: In which they just miss the childhood best friends to lovers trope.

Warnings: ANGSTTTT im so sorry ong this one’s REALLY rough so have fun!!!!

Note: i have a feeling i already know the answer but lmk if you want a part 2 lol

UPDATE: i made part 2

I’m sure it was nothing, but you never used to bring somebody else along. Used to be our thing, going to a movie then we’d wander home.

“We still on for tonight?” Y/n asked Oscar, the boy sitting on the couch as he furiously tapped away at his phone.

He threw a quick glance her way, nodding in a disregarded manner, “Yeah,”

Her response was hesitant. She knew he wasn’t listening to her, he hadn’t been for a considerable amount of time.

“Oscar,” She smiled, her voice slightly pleading.

With another useless glance, he asked, “Yes?”

“Are you hearing me?” She tried, fake smile struggling to stay put.

He nodded, annoyed, “Yes, I did. We’re still on for tonight at 8 PM. We’ll meet at the movie theater down at the corner. Do you need me to be any more specific?” He snapped, phone being tossed aggressively down onto the coffee table in front of him as his fiery eyes finally met hers.

She physically took a step back, surprised by his shift in demeanor, “No, it’s fine. I’ll see you.”

He didn’t respond as she turned on her heels and made a quick move for the door, mumbling some excuse about needing to go the grocery store.

They both knew she had gone the day before.

—

She could see her breath leaving her mouth as she walked toward the neon signs. London winters were always her favorite. With beautiful, straight-white snow, she felt a certain type of comfort when she could gaze out any window from anywhere in the city and be met with a picturesque view.

However, for once this season, her view was quite the opposite. As her feet brought her closer to the entrance of the theater, her eyes were able to make out Oscar, the man she was supposed to be meeting and the man she loved, standing next to a random woman she had never seen before.

Her stomach dropped when she heard the way he said her name and the way he laughed at her jokes, something he hadn’t done with Y/n in a long time.

It was as if she was invisible by the way she stood awkwardly beside them, “Hey,” She had to say in order to gain either one of their attention.

The woman was pulled from her ogling state, but Oscar stayed, longingly staring at someone Y/n had never met.

Her brown eyes bore into Y/n’s as she gave a tight-lipped smile, “Are you Y/n?”

Nodding slowly, Y/n’s eyes darted to Oscar’s, wishing for him to acknowledge her, “Yeah. I’m sorry if this is rude, but who are you?”

“This is Lily, Y/n.” Oscar mumbled, finally gracing his best friend with some sort of recognition.

Her mouth fell open in faux realization, “Oh, nice to meet you.”

The girl, Lily as she now knew, nodded before Oscar was ushering the two women in and pulling out their tickets.

“Were you going to tell me someone else was joining us?” Y/n asked a little later when Lily had gone to secure their seats in the old theater and the two best friends had agreed to gather snacks.

As he pulled out his wallet in preparation, almost as if he couldn’t wait to not be alone with her, Oscar shook his head in disbelief, “Didn’t know I needed to. Was this just supposed to be us?”

“It always has been.” She shot back, a little too pointededly to go unnoticed by Oscar.

His eyes whipped around to meet hers, “So? We never made a pact or anything that it always had to be. I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal, but apparently it is.” His annoyance only grew seemingly, making Y/n feel like she was never really wanted in the first place.

Nodding slowly, she pushed the disappointment down, “No, it’s okay. It’s fine. I get it.”

The words practically died in her throat as she didn’t want to know the answer, but she forced them out anyway, “Do you like her?”

“Why do you think I brought her?”

And just like that, Y/n’s spirit was killed.

—

All these little landmines, all these little things that one can read two ways. Like when you take every call outside, seems that I’ve forgotten how to read your face, but I know you too well to get it wrong. If you have to hurt me, hurt me once. If you have to end it, get it done. You have all these choices, I have none. You’re all that I have to lose. Couldn’t hurt you if I wanted to. I’ve decided on you.

“I thought that maybe we could do something soon. Just you and me, you know? I feel like we haven’t gotten to hangout just us lately.” She tried, finally getting up the nerve to bring it all to his attention.

“What do you mean?” He asked, mouth full with the leftovers from last night. A celebratory dinner she had made for him in order to commemorate his sprint race win, but had been squashed as she set the dish out when he called and told her he was going out with Lily instead.

She shrugged, “I just mean that I feel like we haven’t hung out without Lily lately and, as much as I love her,” She forced out, “I- I mean, Osc, I miss yo-”

“Hold on one second. I have to take this.” He rushed out, bringing a hand up as to stop Y/n in the middle of her heartfelt sentence.

“Lily!” He exclaimed as he left the room and went out onto the patio, a certain kind of excitement she hadn’t heard in a long time.

She watched, observed if you will, as his smile widened and his gestures got incredibly theatric. While, a year ago, Y/n would’ve been certain that those traits meant he was overjoyed by the moment taking place, but, now, it was almost as if she didn’t know him. Sure, she could be pretty confident that he was happy with talking to Lily, but there was a specific, deep feeling of uncertainty. A large hole in the middle of her stomach as she looked at the man she had grown to love years ago and felt conflicted. There was adoration and longing, but there was also an overwhelming sense of disappointment and loneliness. Disappointment because she didn’t know who this was, the Oscar who was her best friend and the Oscar she was so scarily in love with just wasn’t fully there anymore. Loneliness because, throughout it all, he had been there for her, but, as she sat on a stool with the empty one staring back at her, Y/n’s mind came to the understanding that this was how it would end.

All those times she would worry about Oscar and her growing apart were in vain as she realized that the way they would lose each other was because he lost interest in her.

The worst part, the most painful piece of the puzzle, was that there was nothing she could do. The day when he woke up and realized he had so many better people in his company than some random girl from his math class in boarding school was approaching.

The bowl of pasta sitting beside her, a symbol of the unrequited love, she hoped the day would come soon.

As hurtful as it was, she couldn’t sit by and watch as her best friend gradually found a replacement, a person who could better give him all the things she couldn’t.

—

If you keep it going then one by one the memories will start to blur. You’ll ruin the good ones, but I guess my photo album’s none of your concern. Don’t humor me with kindness. There’s nothing kind about a hundred small betrayals. If you love me at all, you’ll kill it now.

Y/n and Oscar had always been in love with each other. Everybody knew it. It was that cliche kind of story. Their moms were best friends, so, in turn, they were. Countless amounts of scrapbooks and photo albums of the two together with their mothers’ handwriting at the bottom saying how they’ll show this photo at their wedding. It was destined from the start, or so everyone thought.

“Your what?” His mother asked the night he had introduced Lily as his girlfriend.

Oscar smiled, slightly confused by the taken aback faces of his parents and siblings, “My girlfriend, mom.”

“Oh,” She resigned, her form falling back in her chair.

His father, Chris, slowly nodded, “Nice to meet you, Lily.”

The two shook hands, an awkward moment as his mother stayed frozen in her chair with the only girl on her mind being the one she had adored from the start, Y/n.

Silence mulled over for a moment before Nicole was getting out of seat and pulling herself together, hugging Lily and giving her son the traditional knowing look, although, this time, it was completely fake.

She didn’t understand what the boy was doing. She didn’t know anything at this point. She was confused and already heartbroken for the y/e/c eyed girl whom she knew was struggling.

“Wasn’t Y/n supposed to come tonight?” It hit her that her son’s best friend was planned to be with them, a seat for her at the table with serving sizes accommodated to fit the number of people coming for their dinner, her included.

Oscar’s face broke out into panic, “Oh my god, Y/n!”

Nicole’s eyes darkened as she watched it dawn on the couple they had forgotten to pick up the poor girl.

“Oscar,” She said sternly, giving him a knowing look and, this time, making sure everybody knew it was real.

Her arms went to her hips as she looked at her son in disappointment, “Do not tell me that you forgot to pick her up.”

His eyes searched for forgiveness, “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Really. I-”

She put her hand up, silencing his rambles as she grabbed her keys and made her way to the door, “I’ve got it.”

—

Pulling up to her house, the woman clocked the way all the lights were out. No porch light or window light on as the house seemed to be eerily empty. Her feet took her up the stairs by 2’s as she hurried to assess the state of the girl, already knowing it couldn’t be good.

Knocking on the door, she heard nothing, so she knocked again. She continued this cycle until the foyer light finally came on and the door was opening, “Oscar, it’s okay. I underst- Mrs. Piastri?”

The woman, finally being faced with the fact that she didn’t quite know what to say, looked at Y/n as if the whole world had shattered around them.

“I’m sorry about him.” She started, thinking they could ease into the topic, but that proved to be the wrong decision as Y/n’s tears started.

Trying desperately to hold them back, keep them at bay somehow, she responded, “It’s okay.”

It was small and quiet, completely defeated, something Nicole felt unraged by knowing this was all at the hands of her own child.

The girl’s head hung low, the tissue in her hand coming up to her face to dab at the tears beginning to fall.

“Oh, honey,” Nicole whispered, rushing to the girl’s aid as she wrapped her up in a hug that brought Y/n back to her childhood when she would get hurt playing with Oscar and Nicole would be there to patch her up everytime.

While this is a bigger wound, Y/n knew Nicole would still stay. She always had and she always would. That was how they worked. Y/n would call her “Mrs. Piastri” like she had just met her and Nicole would be in her back corner, ready to pick her back up again when she failed to do it herself.

Closing the door behind them, Nicole winced at the sight of Y/n’s purse and jean jacket sitting on the bench beside the door, like she had been waiting for Oscar when he was never even going to come.

“I’m happy for him.” Y/n said, tears contradicting the statement in the worst way.

“You don’t have to be.” Nicole whispered, her hands cradling the girl’s head to her chest.

Pulling back, Y/n tried, “But, I am. I’m happy he found somebody. Am I happy that person isn’t me? Of course not!” She laughed dryily, “But, when did we ever really think he would love me back?”

Nicole scoffed, “Your whole lives! Your mom and I knew ever since you two were toddlers and Oscar forced me to buy flowers on Valentine’s Day, so he could properly ask you to be his valentine that he was always going to love you, whether you did or not.”

Y/n left her embrace, arms flailing about as she walked further into the house, “Well, that’s not true though! He doesn’t. Maybe he did before, but, now? No way. I mean, for God’s sake! He literally forgot about me!”

Nicole followed her, “I know, but, Y/n, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”

Y/n turned around, a bewildered look on her face, “Are you crazy?! Of course it does! He’s dating someone. He’s happy with someone. Happy without me. I don’t do it for him anymore, so he’s forgotten about it all. I don’t mean the same things to him as I used to.”

Nicole sighed, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, “Y/n, I don’t know what he’s doing, but I do know that he loves you. Always has. The way he feels about you isn’t forgettable. It won’t ever be.”

“Don’t do that.” She said as she plopped down onto the kitchen stool, the look of defeat returning.

Nicole shook her head, “Do what?”

“Indulge it. It’s already hard knowing he loves somebody else. I can’t take the idea that I once had him, that he once loved me, and I was too stupid to see it.” She said quietly.

The mother nodded, “So, is that it for you then? Are you done trying with him?”

Y/n lifted her head, meeting the gaze of her second mother, “Do I really have a choice? He’s already made up his mind.”

—

Slipping back into the house, Nicole felt disgusted as she heard the sounds of laughter from around the table. As Y/n broke down from being abandoned by the one steady person in her life, her son joked and enjoyed his life as if he wasn’t destroying someone else in expense.

Her movements were heard as the chatter died down and Chris’s voice boomed from the other room, “Honey? Is that you? Y/n with you?”

Her lone presence answered the second question when she waltzed in and no one trailed behind her.

“Was she not there?” Oscar inquired, Lily cozied up beside him.

Nicole couldn’t even look at her son as she quietly said, “No, she was.”

An uncomfortable silence accompanied the table at the insinuation, something that went straight over Lily’s head because of her lack of knowledge when it came to the situation.

“Oh, she just didn’t want to come anymore?” Oscar jabbed, unknowingly testing his mother.

Her gaze darted to her husband, “No, Oscar, she didn’t want to come.”

The use of his first name in such a hostile tone shut him up, giving Lily a confused look as he sat back.

Clearing his throat, Chris tried to mask the uneasiness, “So, what were you saying about that Silverstone?”

—

His steps took him into the kitchen after he had come home from dropping Lily back off at her house after dinner. He knew his mom was in there, the sound of dishes aggressively clanking around clued him in. She seemed in her own head, so he came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, “Are you okay?”

She turned around and met him with such a disheartened look that Oscar’s heart dropped, “What are you doing?” She asked, completely distraught.

“I don’t understand,” He gave, his arms folding in front of his chest as he leaned back against the counter.

“You told me 2 months ago you were so in love with Y/n, so why are you with Lily?” Her hands resided on her hips as she tried to put together her son’s sequence of errors.

He groaned, “Mom, I told you not to bring that conversation up. When we talked about that, I was drunk. You know this. None of what I said was true. I wasn’t in the right mind after you had poured me too much wine at that family dinner.”

“None of what you said was true or none of what you said you wanted to be true?” She challenged, disregarding his other arguments.

He rolled his eyes, “I don’t want people thinking I love Y/n.”

“Why?!” She exclaimed, fed up with the way he was toying with her innocence.

He tilted his head, “Why?! Because if it got to her that I loved her, it would ruin the friendship we have. How can you not understand that?”

She let out a breath, “I do understand that, Osc, but you’re pushing her away just the same right now.”

Confusion flicked in his eyes as he mulled over her words for a split second, “No.”

She nodded, “Why do you think she didn’t want to come to dinner? Why do you think she stopped making an effort? Why do you think she’s stopped talking to this family? God, Oscar, why do you think she’s stopped trying to hangout with you and only you, without Lily?”

Her words struck a cord in his chest, an opening that caught him up with all his stupid mistakes, as she continued, “Forgetting to pick her up was the last straw, Osc. I sat with her for almost an hour as she cried about losing her best friend. She can’t do this with you anymore. You’ve torn her apart.”

He sat there, mouth agape, as the reality set in. He had been the worst person to her for too long and she had just taken it without a word. He had thrown her away because someone else had come along and distracted him from the pain of not being loved back only to find out that the distraction had set in motion his worst fear.

Finally, his body returned to the moment and he reached for his keys, muttering an apology to his mother as he ran out the door.

Getting in his car and speeding off, he hoped he hadn’t killed them yet.

—

If you have to hurt me, hurt me once. If you have to end it, get it done. You have all these choices, I have none. You’re all that I have to lose, couldn’t hurt you if I wanted to. I’ve decided on you. I’ve decided on you. And if I’m disappointed it’s cause you’re not the person I knew. If I had it my way I’d be kinder than you.

For the second time that night, pounding was heard on her front door. Groaning, Y/n looked in the mirror, wiping away at her tears and trying to make herself look presentable before reaching for the door handle.

“Mrs. Piastri, I think I just need to be alon-” She started, but drew blank when Oscar’s face stared back at her.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” His eyes pleaded with her to let him in, not literally, but figuratively.

Yet, she wasn’t ready for that as she began to shut the door, however her attempts failed when his foot wedged in the doorway.

“Just hear me out?” He begged, looking into her red eyes.

Sighing quietly, she let him in.

The two traveled to her couch, sitting on opposite sides so formally it could pass as a business agreement.

Transactional, emotionless.

He took a deep breath, buying time to try and figure out a way to explain away his mistakes, “I’ve neglected you and I’ve neglected our friendship. There’s no excuse for what I’ve done, how I’ve treated you. I’ve completely forgotten about you and how much you mean to me. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I don’t know how to make this up to you.”

Her dead stare made him fearful there was no coming back as she said, “Is that all you have to say?”

He nodded, “Yes,”

“Okay,” She got up and walked back to the door, “Then, there’s nothing more to say.”

He cocked his head, “What? No way, Y/n. That can’t just be it.”

“But, it is, Oscar. I can’t keep doing this with you. I won’t keep doing this with you.” She said, hand gripping the door knob as if it would ground her.

He shook his head, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

She groaned as tears began to spill from her eyes and the fighting in her head went on, “I can’t keep loving you and having it backfire in my face.”

His world went quiet at her confession. Years of missed opportunities and mixed signals slapping him in the face as he watched her break down, something that told him this had been waying on her for the longest time.

“I need this to be over. I don’t want to look at you, be with you, anymore. I can’t wait my whole life for you to just wake up one day and say that you love me like I love you. It hurts too much, it’s unnecessary pain that I’m putting myself through for someone who doesn’t even care anymore! I don’t even know why you’re here right now! You’ve forgotten about me, leave it that way. Please, just leave me alone. I’ve put myself out there for so long, put myself in a vulnerable position at such a young age. I never even got a chance to know a life that didn’t revolve around you. I have no one else except for you, my family, your family, and your friends. I was stripped of a typical childhood because I was so obsessed with making you love me and look at where we are! I’ve got no one!”

“I’m not leaving you! That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do!” He got up from the couch, stalking toward her.

She fired back, “That’s the problem! I need you to leave! I need to be able to exist without you! This has been years in the making, Oscar. I need to be independent. I need to be fine with being alone. With you in my life, I can’t do that. If you’re still a factor, I’ll never be able to move on. I have to fall out of love with you, Osc. And if you love me in the way you always have said you do, you’ll understand and you’ll let me go. I thought that you would get caught up in Lily enough to do it without thinking, but you’re here and you’re fighting, and it’s not wanted.”

As he stood in front of her, their tears synced, finding the same rhythm of leaving the eyes and falling down each cheek onto the floor. Oscar couldn’t believe what was unfolding in front of him. He knew this was his fault. If he had told her earlier how he felt she wouldn’t have gotten this idea and they wouldn’t be here, loosening the tight grip they had on the other.

His hand reached up to her arm, “But, I love you.”

His words seemed like they physically hurt her as she closed her eyes and shrugged his hand off, “You have a girlfriend, Oscar.”

“But, I love you.” He repeated more assertively.

Her eyes opened and they peered into his soul, “That doesn’t matter anymore. It’s too late for that.”

Her small hands pushed him toward the door she had somehow opened during their argument. He tried to fight them, push against them, but his body wouldn’t budge as he stumbled outside. Her arm braced on the door as she said, “Don’t say anything else. It’ll make things worse. Just go back to Lily and forget about us.”

With that, she slammed the door on his face, the sound of the lock turning haunted him. A cold reminder that there was no persuading her.

She was going to fall out of love with him whilst he laid awake in bed at night continuously, traitorously falling in love with the idea of her and what they could’ve been.

I decided on you.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #mclaren #mclaren formula 1 #nicole piastri #oscar piasstri #oscar pastry #f1 scenario #f1 grid x reader #f1 #f1 x female reader #f1 2023 #Spotify

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Part of your world

---

Pairing: Miguel o'hara x female reader

Word count: 4500

Warnings: none

Content: soulmates, longing, loneliness

---

“Why hasn’t she shown up for her assignment yet?”, Miguel questioned his AI assistant, tapping his fingers away as he scheduled another spiderman to take up your work.

“Didn’t you hear?”, LYLA asked him.

 “Hear about what?”, he turned to her feeling confused.

“She quit.”, LYLA spoke to him as she filed her nails.

“Why didn’t I know about this?”, he grew tense.

“Wait, it’s your job to tell me these things.”, he was annoyed, sure, you skipped out on your task but not having you around him somehow felt more worse.

“I did.”, LYLA yawned feeling unenthused by this conversation.

“You didn’t seem to fret about it too much?”, she continued hopping around him studying expression.

He slumped back into his chair, how had it slipped his mind?

“I sanction the resignations, why wasn’t it passed by me?”, he questioned further. Was there a flaw in the system he didn't know about?

“Because she had a valid reason.”, LYLA searched through her storage to bring up your video.

“I’ve found him, at last. Now I want to embrace a quieter life with him, one that is without all this madness.”, he watched you speak, gesturing to his monitors behind you. His sleep ridden eyes latched onto your face in the recording as though the very sight of you was the remedy for his aching heart.

He could feel his claws take shape, he wanted to go berserk, to trash everything that was in front of him. But seeing the way you sighed, like you had enough, his heart only softened more.

“Tell Miguel I’m sorry.”, was the last he heard your voice before his screen flashed to black. Leaving him to sit in the silence, with the inevitable truth that you had left. You didn’t choose spider society. You didn’t choose him. He hung his head, after years, after being the very reason he set out to enter the multiverse, he didn’t get the only desire he longed for.

He reached for his vial and took a shot, his shoulder stinging with pain, he had to rest or much rather forget. He got up and left, with less vigour than when he arrived, than when he thought he had a chance. Now it was all lost, again, over and over, why couldn’t he have one good lasting moment before it got ripped away from him.

Entering his apartment, he embraced the darkness as he trudged into his room. His suit deactivating to expose his skin to the cold, he didn’t want the warmth, it reminded him of you. But ever since he had seen you, his dreams were replaced with nightmares. Every time he slept, he would wake up in a realm where you were next to him. His dreams of Gabriella and his time as a father was now replaced with his longing for love.

You wouldn’t let him sleep, every move you made he would feel it as though it was real, as though this was his life with your fingers on his cheeks, your body looping in and out of his bed sheets. Your hair spread out on his chest, his heart always skipping a beat when you lifted your head to see him. But he could never hold you close or stop you from leaving.

Nightmares. Like now, your siren like voice telling him to find you, your lips saying sweet nothings as you kissed his forehead and the ease he felt as you ran your fingers through his hair. He was going to go mad at this rate and no amount of his green vials could save him.

He woke up gasping for air as cold sweat dripped from his forehead. He took a few seconds to calm down as he sat in the dark room, alone, pulled away from your touch,  the only light coming through the window from the city that never slept, just like him, kept alive by your neon lights. He hid his face in his hands. Desperate, he couldn’t settle or digest the fact that he was going to be lonely, forever.

That is, only if he could find you again. He stopped himself. The fear gripped him. He had already done it before, jumping universes in search of a better life and it ended with him losing his daughter. If he were to try again and as a result lose you completely. His eyes widened, he didn’t know how he would continue to exist.

Atleast now, he looked out at the view, you were happy in someone else’s arms. So he settled into his pillows again, you were better off without having to be with him. But one gnawing question chewed on his self control. Who was this mystery man? This ordinary fool who was lucky to have you?

He retracted and detracted his claws as he couldn’t seem to find an answer instead a solution arose in his mind. He could never live in peace if this question was left unanswered. So knowing the pain that he would carry coming to know that he couldn’t be the one, he needed closure. He got up, activating his suit in the dead of night to grab his gadget and head to where you were.

Your city was quaint, it was unlike Nueva York. He could begin to understand the appeal, as he quietly swung over the roof line, it had a suburbian aspect to it,most of the lights were out, the neighborhood was sleeping and as he got closer to your house, he breathed a sigh of relief. The lights in your living room were turned on. But as he approached the slope of your roof, he spotted another parked car outside your house. It was a utility vehicle with soil bags and horse food in it’s truck. So you fell in love with a farmer. That was the complete opposite of who he was.

Taking in a deep breath, he prepared himself as he got closer to an open window, and there you were. In the warm glow of your lamp, seated on your comfy couch, speaking to this man.

Could Nueva York ever offer you a semblance of the beauty you had here?

The more he watched your mannerisms, it was clear you were having an argument of some kind.

“I gave up the mantle.”, he could hear the agony in your voice.

“Isn’t that enough?”, you held onto the edge of this man’s sleeve.

“I don’t want you to stop being you just so you can be with me, amor.”, he heard the man speak and his heart stopped.

He leaned in and there he was, a version of him, the one who lived in this universe. An ordinary version of himself. You had fallen in love with him, just in another world, he touched the glass as though it was a barrier.

“But you know it’s more than that.”, his version spoke as he pulled away your hands from him to hold it together.

“I just don’t feel the same.”, he placed them on your lap as he took his car keys.

“No, just give it time.”, you got up along with him.

“Just give us time.”, you pleaded but it was falling on deaf ears. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Watching him leave and take with him the future you desired.

He hugged you and you were the only one who was an emotional mess. He kissed your forehead and whispered goodbye, leaving you to stand in the middle of your living room like a ghost as the door closed softly while you kept thinking this wasn’t how it was to be. But as the clock struck twelve, you let the sorrow take you as you fell to the ground, weeping.

He wanted to run to you, to hold you and tell you that he did love you, that he would give you all the time in the world. But this was how it was, like the glass layer separating him from you, he will always be outside looking in and never by your side. He heard the vehicle drive away and all he could think was that the version of him who was here had to be the stupidest.

Maybe he could convince his version to come back.

But with the silent night stretching on and your quiet sobs breaking his heart, he wanted to intervene, even when his mind was telling no. He wouldn’t alter your story by involving himself in it. He stilled when an idea came to him.

If he pretended to be this other version … no

He couldn’t pretend anymore, that was what got him into this mess.

But maybe just long enough to ease you. Maybe. Definitely. He swung away in search of a change of clothes, which he found outside someone’s house that was kept out to be taken. He then purchased a roll of bandage from the pharmacy, to put the hand his gadget was on in a cast to disguise it.

He stood outside your door, suddenly nervous to knock, he paused to muse his hair, trying his best to look like the man you had fallen in love with because he knew he was nothing like him.

He knocked and heard you run to the door. It opened to the sound of your voice calling his name and he forgot why he was here. As he crossed the threshold, he could tell this was what his dreams were about, that he too unknowingly had longed for an ordinary life with you. His distant eyes were brought back when he felt you wrap him in a hug. He relaxed into your hold.

“You came back?”, he heard you ask and the breath in his lungs vanished as the warmth of your body seeped through him. This was real.

“I was an idiot.”, he replied.

An idiot to have not told you sooner about your significance in his life.

“I realized the moment you weren’t in my life, oscureció cada rincón de mi universo.”, he let his hand hold you close. All this was his own truth.

“A few seconds away and you’ve turned into a poet.”, you sniffed pushing away from him to see his face again. He was never this eloquent before.

But you brushed it aside, intertwining your fingers with his as you led him to the couch to only then see the cast. “Were you in an accident?”, you asked worriedly.

“No.”, he looked like he was new to your place, observant of your surroundings, of you.

“Just pulled a muscle as I slammed the car door.”, he explained but you could sense that something wasn’t right. The timing of when he left, he would have been half way across the city by now and it would be impossible for him to make a return trip so soon. You leaned towards your blinds and peeked outside, the road was empty. He had walked to your house.

“So you’ve changed your mind?”, you asked him. His eyes now on you as if they were alive with adoration.

“I’ve loved you since the beginning, what is there to change?”, he said lost in the proximity and the color of your eyes. You were caught in a moment and almost felt your soul stir before his eyes widened as though he remembered something and leaned away.

“I mean, what I said before I left doesn’t hold true anymore.”, he clarified himself as he cleared his throat.

You hummed, placing your hand on his cheek to trace your thumb over his top lip, he froze under your touch.

“Where’s your scar gone?”, you asked, now sure about who this was.

“What scar?”, he furrowed his brows and it only confirmed your suspicions.

You reached forward and ripped the bandage to see the multiverse portal gadget on his hand, leaving you both in a state of shock.

“Do you think this is funny?”, you grew tense, but your frustration had found it's breaking point.

“No let me explain – you cut him off.

"For a second I almost believed you.", you pushed away from him as he tried to reach for you, your eyes turning cold and distant.

"Hold on that was the truth – he began to argue but you had no interest to listen to him. This would end in a disaster if he kept popping up into your life.

"I want you to leave,", you walk back to him.

"Go back to Nueva York.", you said as you reached for his gadget to set the coordinates but he pulled away his hand.

"What?", he asked looking baffled.

"Leave. I don’t want you here.", you seethed but you were fighting back tears.

"After what I witnessed? That you were in love with a version of me?", he reached for your hand again, his eyes searching yours.

"No.", he said resolutely.

"Why won’t you just leave me alone?", you pulled away from his touch afraid that it might set of a world ending event.

"Because without you in my life, it withers away.", he said in an outburst which caused you to freeze. Your eyes widened as clutched the side of his head in pain.

"I feel like I’ve told you this before.", he winced and you but you lip.

"You did.", you said softly.

"But I made you forget, in the hopes my departure would not break you.", you found his eyes and you had to look away because they shimmered with the hurt of having been betrayed.

"You did what?", he gasped as he asked.

"Miguel, you are all about the canon. We, are not canon.", you wrapped your arms around you.

He got up and slowly approached you.

"But we are.", he said softly, like that was the reason for everything in his life.

"We are, when we fall in love within our respective universes.", you sniffed, trying to push away the utter hopeless you felt,

"You knew?", he asked with a hint of surprise in his voice, to which you nodded.

"So find my version in your universe and let go of me.", you looked up at him and watched him crumble.

"I can’t.", he said, the edges of his eyes glistening.

"You don’t exist in my universe, the first time that has happened.", he looked away as he explained.

"How do you know?", you asked.

"Cause you were the reason I made this.", he pointed to the gadget in his wrist, your eyes widening at his words.

"To come find you, but when I couldn’t, I settled for a life in another universe that I thought would soothe me, instead I lost it too.", A small tear drop ran down his cheek, breaking to utter bits.

"My logic was right, but his heart wasn’t it in. It’s the first time this has happened too, you rejecting me.", you reached up to wipe his tear, when

"Give me a chance.", he whispered.

You couldn't help but scoff because you knew the life he had to offer.

"You can’t give me something you don’t have?", you told him maintaining eye contact.

"And what is that?", he furrowed his brows.

"A chance to enjoy the mundane.", you replied, now impatient to put this conversation to an end. It had caused enough hurt for the both of you. But he didn't stop.

"Come back with me and I’ll show you", he held out his hand for you, as though it was only your to take.

"Miguel", you tried to protest but he was adamant.

"Just one day.", he pleaded.

"And by the end of it, tell me you felt nothing and I’ll bring you back.", he was being honest.

You looked at his out stretched hand, the hope in his eyes and the years of longing with which he said,

"Just, please.", he took a step closer to you.

You knew how he truly felt about you, because he appeared one night outside your balcony as you were watching the night sky to tell all of it. To tell you that you made his nights torturous with your presence invading his mind. You felt it too, that connection, the tug on your heart everytime he entered the room almost as if there was a thread that pulled you to him.

He was lonely, so were you. Tired of trying to find the other in your own worlds when in the sleepy state you were in, you let yourself lean into his touch. So he pulled you in, his warm body keeping away the chillness of the night. You knew this was going to be a mistake, the stake of the universe hanging over your head. The monitor on your desk had come back with no results, in your search for his version in your universe.

So maybe being here in his arms was the closest you could get. And after endless days craving for him to arrive in your life, maybe you could just enjoy this second. So you pulled him close and kissed him.

Desperate hearts finding solace in the warmth of the other.

But after that, one thing led to another, he carried you as he undid your buttons, you kissed him not wanting to be anywhere else. You had spent the night together and that was the first time you had seen him sleep so peacefully, his hand resting on your back as you rested your head on his chest.

Nothing had happened, the universe didn’t collapse but maybe it was because you hadn’t told him that you loved him. But as you were contemplating on trying it out, you monitor beeped. It's search result coming back with one positive result. And it was brutal the pain you felt, as though it was separating two souls that were one, to leave him behind, to pull away from his arms. But it had to be, your story was never meant to intersect with his.

So you did the most heart breaking thing you had ever done. He had to forget this, forget you, so you placed your finger on his forehead as he stirred awake. His eyes lighting up the moment they spotted you, his mouth opening to tell you that he loved you but you couldn’t let it happen. Not now after you knew this was going to break the canon storyline. You activated your telepathic powers and watched as his words turned into a whisper as he was put into another sleep. When he woke up again, he would have no recollection of all this.

But now as he stood before you, with the same agonizing expression, you couldn’t find the strength to tell him no. Not when after everything, you were both alone again.

“Fine. One day.”, you said subduing your fears as to what the outcome might be.

All you craved now was to just be by his side and as you took his hand, there it was, that resurgence within you, that spark, one you did not feel with his version in your world.

The moment you got back, he was pulled away for work and so were you. But he didn’t let go of you, he had you next to him as he slotted the assignments while you both enjoyed a late brunch to take out noodles. He was laughing, making jokes, and the very essence of his joy lightened you up as well. Swiftly using his chopsticks, he held out a piece of honey chicken up to you, as if this was how it had always been. You and him sitting in his office whiling away time. You leaned in to take a bite, you were sure he never shared his meals with anyone else before.

Overseeing spider society’s progress demanded he got out of his office and so he took you with him. Although you were both indulged in doing your jobs, it felt fun doing it together. He instructed the new recruits while you pointed them towards their allotted sections. As he spoke to them, he would sneak glances at you, reminding himself of your presence and that was enough to get him going.

The latter part of the day was spent catching criminals here in Nueva York and a couple anomalies from a few other universes. But it was different than what you had thought it would have been, a life with him. It was well balanced. Sweet in the slow moments, thrilling in the adventurous journeys and mostly, less lonely. That in his soft touches and murmurs, you could feel your heart had found a home in his.

The day was coming to an end. He didn’t need to remind himself of it, because you hadn’t told him of your decision yet. So he got you some ice cream before he took you to the highest point in Nueva York, so that your final moment could just be with him.

It was surprising, he knew everything about you, what you liked, what you disliked and unlike the menacing image he had instilled in everyone’s mind, he showed you his truest nature. One that was gentle, kind and nurturing. All your favourite qualities. The city looked tiny below you as he found his spot next to you. The sky a painting of orange and pink as you thought of what you were going to do.

“Why did you make me forget?”, he turned to you.

You popped the end of your waffle cone into your mouth as you told him, “I kissed you and I didn't want to hurt you.”

He gave you a nod, his eyes looking away at the distant view before finding yours again.

“Right and I,”, he paused, his gaze well aware of what had happened between you two. You nodded in response, dusting your hands.

“It's all coming back to me now.”, he said softly and it reopened the hurt you felt.

“I didn’t mean to erase our time together, Miguel.”, you inched closer to him.

“I was sure it was you, but then that was when I had found him and I was scared,”, you couldn’t face him, you couldn't finish the sentence.

“You were scared you would destabilize the universe.”, he held his hands together.

“I've been there.”, he sighed.

“How cruel,”, you laughed pushing away his wind swept hair.

“Fated but just but of reach.”, you said to which e huffed a laugh too as his expression sobered when his eyes found yours.

The sun was now a red ball of fire descending into the horizon as his hand inched closer his pinky finger touching yours.

“So what’s it going to be?”, he asked turning to you, asking you how you felt about this day, if was enough to give you a taste of everything he had to offer.

“I… I liked today.”, you said sheepishly but there was line you couldn't cross.

“Maybe we could be friends?”, you suggested, to which he vehemently declined.

“That won’t do.”, he smiled.

“I want you constantly. In my arms, in my head, in my bed, everywhere.”, he gestured with his hands, as though being high in the sky deemed him confident enough to spill his secrets.

“Ah then I’m afraid the canon universe is going to crumble.”, you bumped his shoulder with yours.

“I’m afraid so.”, he said with a sad smile.

As the stars began to descent into the twilight sky, he just couldn’t seem to let you go. If that kid got away with breaking canon events and did his own thing.

What’s to say he couldn’t?

He looked at you, he wasn’t doing anything too drastic. A sense of resolve settled over him. He took your hand in his. This felt good and solid and true. So maybe, it was just his own thinking that was stopping him.

“But what if we did?”, he asked.

You didn’t want to leave, this was the life you were trying to mimic, back in your universe but you couldn’t happened because it needed him, the man who held your hand as his eyes mirrored the sky.

“What?”, you asked not quite following his train of thought.

“See where this goes?”, he answered to which you laughed.

“Miguel o’hara wants to break the canon, LYLA would have a fit of she could hear this.”, you continued.

“I’m being serious.”, he got you to look at him as you stilled.

Maybe you had gotten it wrong. You had kissed him and nothing had happened. He said he loved you and the world didn’t end. So maybe, you were searching for the wrong man. Maybe he had been right in front of you this whole time.

“And what is your reason to wreck the universe this time?”, you smiled as you caressed his cheek. His eyes softening as he felt your touch.

“I just really want to kiss you.”, he whispered and with the he guided your chin towards him to place his lips on yours.

Your heart was in your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut, afraid that if you opened them you might see him vanish. He held your hand tight, as though you were the only one that could offer him solace in his fears. A few seconds passed and he pulled away to see you, to check if everything was lost. But it hadn't, everything remained the same. The soft wind rustling your hair, the gentle moonlight illuminating his face as the night sky provided you with the cover to truly enjoy the meaning of this revelation.

That you were meant for each other.

“The world is still intact?”, he asked holding onto the side of your face.

“I believe so.”, you mumbled, now only wanting to crawl up into his arms.

He hummed as he picked you up in joy. To then seat you on his lap to face him, this was how it had been that night, irresistibly drawn to each other because your hearts were tied together. Now there was no need to run.

“No sabes lo feliz que me hace oírte decir eso.”, his hand found the back of you neck while you leaned closer to seal any gap between you and him. Your hands sprawled across his chest as he pulled you in.

“I might had an idea.”, you smiled and that small gesture was enough for him to find your lips again in a passionate kiss, because he wasn’t going to be alone anymore, all his sacrifices had led him to you.

“I’ve always longed to be a part of your world.”, he spoke in between his kisses, as he continued till he sat back breathless.

You looked down at his flushed cheeks as he gasped for air but didn't want to let go as though he didn’t want to waste another second of this new found life.

You didn’t want to either, so you pulled him by the collar of his suit and kissed him again beneath the starlit sky.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099

[luxaofhesperides]

if you give a ghost a trauma: a parody fic

read on ao3.

Danny wishes to be sent someplace he could have a better family. Unfortunately, that lands him in a Gotham where tropes are made reality to the extreme. He really just can't catch a break. (or: a dcxdp parody fic where i make danny the only one able to see how bizarre things are. this does not help him in any way.)

. . .

“We’re gonna get you!” Maddie Fenton, a Bad Parent™ cries as she shoots her gun at Danny, her half dead son.

“No!” he wails, flying around as he dodges the shots. “I wish my parents weren’t trying to capture me for Evil Science Reasons! I wish I had a better family!”

“Lol, done,” said Desiree, snapping her fingers. 

Danny only has time to say Uh-oh before he’s sucked away into a magic portal and spit out into a dark and dreary city. In just the one second he’s there, before he even hits the ground, he hears gunshots, screaming, and the wailing of police sirens. Then he hits the ground and groans, releasing his ghost form to go back to being a human. 

“Where am I?” he asks himself, getting to his feet and looking around. The alleyway he’s in is empty and full of garbage just scattered around. Wherever he may be, it clearly needed to invest more in its sanitation department. 

He spots a fire escape on the side of a building and uses it to climb onto the rooftop, a totally normal course of action. Then he stares at the city, glowing with the street lights and neon business lights and a spotlight with the shape of a bat in it glowing on the clouds. 

“This might as well just happen,” Danny says, “My life is already so weird anyway.”

He stands there for some time, at a loss of what to do next. The wind is cold and brings with it a promise of rain, and from the looks of the dark clouds above him, it’s going to rain soon. Danny needs shelter, fast.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” says someone who snuck up behind him.

Danny shrieks and jumps, nearly going over the edge of the roof.

“Woah!” the person says, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to safety. “That was close!” 

Danny blinks up at his savior, then squints. This guy’s definitely not normal, since he’s wearing a domino mask and a lightly armored black suit with a blue bird emblem stretching across his chest. 

“Way to nearly kill him, Nightwing,” says a new person, dropping down onto the roof from the sky. This new person wears red and black, a pair of bandoliers crossing over his chest. 

“Well, I saved him, didn’t I!”

“Um, hi,” Danny interjects. “Thanks for grabbing me before I fell, but who are you?”

“You don’t know who we are?” blue bird asks rather incredulously.

“Do you think I’m asking just for fun.”

Red and black steps in with a smile. “I’m Red Robin, that’s Nightwing. We’re vigilantes trying to keep Gotham safe.”

Danny makes an educated guess that the city they’re currently in is Gotham. Not a city he’s ever heard before, but what does he know?

“Okay,” he says. There’s really not much else he can say.

“You never answered my question,” Nightwing says. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, just fine. No idea where I am or how to get home, but it can always be worse, you know?”

“Did you get lost?” Red Robin asks, pulling a holographic computer up from his wrist. Tucker would kill to get his hands on something like that. Danny wonders if he can get his own as a souvenir. 

“Something like that, yeah,” he replies. Another few gunshots ring out loudly through the streets, closer than they were before. Danny flinches, then ducks down a little, looking back towards the street apprehensively. “Um. You guys gonna do anything about that?”

The two vigilantes shrug, as if that’s an acceptable course of action. And then a hand shoots up and grabs the edge of the roof by Danny’s foot, making him jump in the air. Nightwing catches him yet again and moves him away from the ledge. 

A red helmet, leather jacket wearing guy built like a pro-wrestle hauls himself up the roof easily. There are guns tucked into holsters on his thighs and a red, block bat stuck on his chest. 

“Should I be concerned,” Danny says blankly. 

“Nah, it’s just Red Hood,” Red Robin replies, “The only person he ever tries to kill is me.”

“Cause you’re a replacement. And also, get over it, that was ages ago We’re good now. I haven’t even had a Pit Rage episode in months!”

“So the bullets you shot at me last week were just for fun?”

“Yeah, and they were rubber, so it’s not like you would have gotten hurt.”

Danny takes a few steps closer to Nightwing, hiding behind him. He’s getting bad vibes all around from that guy. 

“Tch,” a new voice says right behind Danny, making him flinch. A young boy with a sword steps out from behind him and joins the crew of vigilantes just hanging out on the roof. “As if he’s even worth that much attention.”

“Hello to you too, Demon Brat,” Red Robin says.

“How many of you are there?” Danny asks. “Don’t you need to like, protect the city?”

“Batgirl and Spoiler are working on it,” Nightwing says.

“We’re doing what?” another voice says, and a energetic blond girl dressed in purple armor hops onto the roof, tucking her grappling hook away. Following her is another person in all black, face fully covered, with stitches covering the mouth portion to make it seem as though they can’t talk. The person leaves the blond girl behind to head straight to Danny, making him take a few nervous steps back. 

“Dead,” she says, poking his chest with a finger.

Is that a threat? It feels like a threat. 

“No?” he tries. 

“What are you talking about, Batgirl?” Red Hood interrupts. “We all know the only dead person here is me.”

Everyone promptly groans, telling him to shut up about it and go one night without mentioning his death. 

Okay, that seems concerning! Is he another halfa? Is he like Vlad? Danny’s going to be so mad if he got dropped into another world directly into the hands of another Vlad. 

“You’re dead?” he asks, leaning away from Batgirl as she pokes him once more. 

“Yeah.”

“Same hat?” Danny tries, squinting at him.

“The fuck?” is the answer, which tells him that he probably doesn’t know what Danny’s on about. There’s still a 6% chance that he’s just lying to make Danny look like a fool, though. 

6% is more than 5%, which means it’s enough for him to just act on instinct and walk right up to the gun-wielding Red hood. He tries to consciously use his ghost sense, which is an odd feeling that reminders him of the moment before he hiccups. 

A light blue mist wafts out his mouth. 

Yep, the rumors are true: this man is dead.

“Once, again,” Red Hood says, “The fuck?”

“Seconded,” Nightwing adds.

“Third!” Spoiler joins in. 

Danny takes a page out of Batgirl’s book and pokes Red Hood’s chest. It’s very solid, only hard muscle, and reminds him a bit of Dan. That’s never a good sign. Something about Red Hood is making his skin crawl though, a sense of wrongness that sets alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind. 

“Did you come back instantly when you died?” he asks.

The white lenses of Red Hood’s helmet turn neon green. “Why the fuck are you asking me that.”

“Just checking. The green I’m seeing right now is making me think you’re a halfa.”

“What’s a halfa?” Red Robin interjects.

“An unlucky soul like me,” Danny responds, distracted. He lays his palm flat against Red Hood’s chest. The vigilante holds still, as if frozen, letting Danny do as he please. The ectoplasm he feels in other ghosts is usually calm, made unique by the personality of the ghost it belongs to, but it doesn’t roil and try to hurt the host like the ectoplasm in Red Hood is doing. 

He pulls back and looks around at the circle of vigilantes surrounding him. “Can anyone answer how he came back? Where did he even find this must rotten ectoplasm?”

“Pit,” Batgirl helpfully answers.

“Pit,” Danny repeats. “Like a pit of death? Toxic sludge? Landfill pit gone evil? What am I working with here.”

“Lazarus Pits,” the little one with the sword says. “How do you know about them?” He then pulls out his sword and points it at Danny, ignoring the way Nightwing hisses Robin, no! 

His name is Robin? Isn’t that just Red Robin’s name? Did this Robin have a color added to his name as well? 

“I literally don’t, but if it’s green and weird, then it’s probably ecto.” He turns back to Red Hood. “I’m gonna take care of it now.” And then he shoves his hand into Red Hood’s chest, ignoring the alarmed shouts from the other vigilantes. They try to pull him away, but Danny goes intangible, making their hands fall right through him as he gets a good grip on the ecto, sending his own out in a steady stream to chase the rotten flow towards his hand, then yanks it out. 

It’s green and goopy in his hands, steaming slightly in the air. “Ew,” Danny says. “That’s nasty. You were just living with this inside you?”

Red Hood doesn’t seem to hear him. 

Red Hood takes off his helmet and stares at the rotten ectoplasm in Danny’s hand. Nightwing approaches him cautiously, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Hood? You doing okay? How are you feeling?”

“It’s gone,” Red Hood answers, shocked. “The Pit Rage. It’s gone. I haven’t felt this clear headed since before I died.”

“That must have sucked,” Danny says empathetically, then shakes the nasty ecto off his hand. It lands on the roof with a wet splat. 

Once again: ew.

“How did you do that?” Red Robin asks, crowding into Danny’s space. Batgirl slides up behind him, trapping him between them. 

“Did you not just watch me yank it out? It was easy. Anyways, y’all got jobs to do, and I got places to go. So I’ll see you never!”

He tries to fly away, but only manages to get a few feet before he’s pulled down by multiple people grabbing at him.

“What is going on here,” A low, gravelly voice demands. Yet another vigilante appears, gliding out of the shadows. This one is much bigger than everyone else, cloaked in darkness, with a helm that has two little ear things poking out on top. 

“Batman,” Robin says, “This meta cured Hood of his Pit Madness.”

“I see,” Batman replies, looking Danny over. “Are you an orphan?”

What the fuck. Who just asks that?

“No.”

“Are your parents well?”

“Sure? My mom was pretty energetic while shooting at me before I came here.”

“You do not have to be unsafe in your home again,” Batman says, grabbing something out of his tactical fanny pack. “You can live with us instead.”

He holds out fucking adoption papers.

Danny backs up as fast as he can, shaking his head. “Oh, no! No you don’t! I did not trade one fruitloop for another!”

“No new brother?” Batgirl asks sadly. 

“Definitely not,” he insists. “No thank you! I’m fine as I am and fully plan on going home.”

Batman frowns. “You said your mother was shooting at you.”

“Yeah, and? The food in our fridge comes to life every meal and we have to fight it. This is normal for us. Chill out and put those papers away.”

The entire crew of vigilantes seems very put out with Batman obligingly puts the adoption papers away. 

“Yeah, I’m done here. Go back to protecting the city. I’m just gonna… go.”

Danny doesn’t wait for them to say anything else before flies away, remembering to go intangible this time. He soars through the polluted streets of Gotham, weaving between tall buildings made with dark stone and decorated with gargoyles. It’s all very dark and dreary, which means Sam would love it.

She would not be loving the pollution, though. Danny certainly isn’t. 

“I wish I could go home,” he says loudly, looking up at the sky expectantly. 

No magic portal appears to yoink him back. 

“I wish I was at home again, and not here!”

Desire does not appear to help him out. She leaves him stranded in Gotham, pouting at the sky until he gives up and flies down to sit on a new roof and angst about his situation. Hopefully this time a gaggle of vigilantes won’t bother him.

Resting his head against his hands, he sighs. Then again, and again, loudly. “Man, this sucks,” he says to himself.

“What’s got a kitten like you so down?” someone says behind him.

“I’m so tired of random people sneaking up behind me on rooftops,” he informs them without turning around. If they wanna talk to him, they gotta got to him, not the other way around.

“Ah, ran into the Bats, did you?”

They’re called Bats? But only two were Bats. None of the other vigilantes fit the theme. That’s just lazy and inconsistent. They should rebrand to something better.

The person walks over and sits down next to him. Danny glances over and is startled to find a woman in a leather body suit, with a hood that has cat ears and googles with an orange tint. 

…Is everyone in this city just dressed strangely at all times? Is this the normal fashion of Gotham?

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare. Who are you?”

The woman laughs. “Oh, so you haven’t heard of Catwoman?”

“Nope. No clue who you are.”

“Well,” she purrs, “A pleasure to meet you. I’m a thief.”

The dots connect in his mind. “Like a cat burglar!”

“Yes, like that.”

“Man, this city is wild and I come from a place that deals with ghosts on a daily basis.”

“So what are you doing in a place like this? Gotham isn’t kind to newcomers.”

Danny sighs, yet again, and tilts his head back to look up at the cloudy, starless sky. “I made a dumb mistake and got sucked into a magic portal that spit me out here. I have no clue how I’m going to get home.”

“Do you have a place to stay?”

He glares at Catwoman. “I’m not open to being adopted. I’ll just eat any papers you send my way.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she reassures, “I have no interest in being a mother. But I have a spare bedroom if you need it, and I wouldn’t mind teaching you a few tricks of the trade. It’ll be fun, messing with Batman.”

Ah, so she’s doing this for Trickster Reasons. Danny can respect that. 

And he also doesn’t have any other options. Considering how much gun violence and general violence he’s hearing in this city, he’ll probably be killed an embarrassing number of times just from trying to find a place to sleep on the streets for one night. Between cold, dangerous streets with storm clouds hanging heavy over his head or a guest bedroom in the home of a thief with a theme, there’s really no choice.

“If you don’t mind me hanging around, I’d really appreciate having a place to sleep until I figure out a way home.”

“Come along, then! I was just about to turn in for the night.” Catwoman stands up, stretches, then takes hold of the whip on her waist and snaps it out. She takes a running leap off the building, then throws her whip out to wrap around a billboard to swing across the street. 

Danny watches her go, then follows her lead, flying behind her, ready to catch her just in case. But Catwoman moves with ease, clearly experienced in recklessly moving through the streets, and makes her way to a highrise apartment with no trouble at all. 

They land on a balcony just as the sky rumbles with ominous thunder. Another second later, and the clouds open up and heavy rain begins to fall. 

Catwoman throws the door open and they both scramble to get inside before they get drenched. The lights flick on, revealing a stylish modern apartment, filled with art pieces and ornamental bonsai trees. A few quiet cries come from corners of the room, and then cats appear, one after another, moving around Danny’s legs curiously before turning to Catwoman. 

“That was a close one,” Catwoman says conversationally as she takes off her hood and googles, revealing her face. Her pixie cut is messy and her eyes are bright and sharp, just like a cat’s. “I suppose since we’re going to be working together from now on, that we properly introduce ourselves.” She holds out a hand for to shake. “Selina Kyle. I look forward to the trouble we’ll cause together.”

Danny stares down at her hand, then takes hold of it. Looks like he’s going to be a thief! Well, it’ll be a fun story for later. 

He doesn’t want his name attached to his new life of crime, though. And, he figures, this is a fresh start. New life, new name. There’s one that pops into mind immediately, and he latches onto it, ready to step into the world of crime. 

“Call me Neal Caffrey,” he says, shaking her hand. “I’m ready to start when you are.”

#my writing #dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dcxdp #dp x dc fanfic #purposefully writing something bad is actually so freeing. everyone do this it will make writing so much easier #if ure confused abt the neal caffery joke check my end notes on ao3 ;)

[itsonlydana]

"Can you meet me halfway (I'll meet you halfway" | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

you went out clubbing on new years eve when a gorgeous rich couple hits on you and invites you back to their apartment to finish what you started right on the dancefloor

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️, modern!AU, threesome, oral sex (male & female), dirty talk, semi-public-sex, soft dom! bard and bratty dom!thranduil, protected sex, fingering, passing out during sex, slight overstimulation, age-gap (reader is of age, though its described that thranduil and bard are older), hairpulling, aftercare,

words: 13,8k

an: this is by far the dirtiest thing i've ever written and my god i'm not a smut writer; i get too flustered over my own writing lmao. Hopefully you can enjoy this out-of-character story even if it isn't new years anymore!

inspired by early 2000s club bangers like Kesha, Britney Spears, Black Eyed Peas (that's where the title came from) and Lady Gaga

+ masterlist + 

🌿 reposts and comments or anonymous messages in my inbox are very appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"What?!"

"I said," the barkeeper leaned closer and pushed a filled to the rim shotglass over the counter, "this one is from the pretty one to your right!"

With a myriad of people in this club who fit your definition of "pretty" you found yourself on the brink of shouting at the red-haired bartender once more.

This would mark the third attempt, given that the club's 2000s music was blaring to the extent that communication was damn near impossible if you weren't screaming or using your hands trying to get orders across the sticky, littered with neon glowstick wristbands counter.

Before you could ask her who the hell she'd meant, the bartender had turned away, leaving you to figure out the mystery man for yourself.

You lifted the shot glass to your nose and took a deep breath— pure tequila.

At least you would enjoy this one; the last few shots other men had sent over to you had been nothing but disgusting, ranging from vodka to Jägermeister and one you didn't even bother to drink.

The world spun a little when you turned your head over your shoulder and for a second the flashy lights blurred the people crowding the bar into one mass, unidentifiable and mushed together; then your eyes zeroed in on him and pretty didn't even begin to cover it.

Next to the bar, holding out his own shot glass in hands that could've fit three or five of them, stood a man that was intimidatingly gorgeous and decently tall even as he rested his hip cheekily against one of the chairs, elbow on the wooden top while he flicked his fingers against the rim of the glass.

Not even that he was just tall, and he was –surely taller than most of the men standing between you two –, but he had this quality about him that let him stand out of the crowd.

Maybe it was the hair, blonde like starlight and pulled into a long and messy ponytail, with just a few loose strands framing his strong jawline. Or maybe it was the smug look on his face, the smirk that tugged on his lips when you dragged your eyes over the see-through shirt that clung to his well... and oh so– so well-defined chest.

On any other occasion, you would have simply raised the glass and disappeared back into the crowd of dancing people, but tonight felt different.

New Year's Eve had that ring to it. The careless "Fuck it all, it's all going to shit anyway"-attitude.

Any newspaper or media marked today the last day of yet another frustrating, wonderful, soul-crushing, draining, exciting, and overall overwhelming year, full of things you regretted having done, and as you stared at the man meeting your gaze with a questioning arch of a dark eyebrow, you found yourself giving a flying fuck about whether you'll add another mark on that board.

There was a surge of power washing through your body as you toasted the glass in his direction before tipping it against your lips and letting the tequila rush into your mouth.

The alcohol went down burning, hot, and dry and left a warm trail down your throat into your stomach.

"I see you not only bear a resemblance to the devil, you drink like her as well," a sultry voice drawled, sufficiently loud for you to lift your head.

Somehow the man had managed to appear right next to you within seconds and got so close that you were confronted with a very exciting view of his chest.

You eyed it, naturally because who wouldn't take their time looking at the flexing pecs covered in silver glitter and sweat?

Slowly, you dragged your gaze upwards, only faltering for a moment at the sight of a pink tongue running over plush lips. You met his eyes again, this time with no more than half a meter separating you and you were glad your knees didn't buckle like they threatened to do.

"And what are you? Some angel that has fallen from heaven?" Your counter was weak, a bad example of what was usually some excellent flirting, if you dare say yourself, but it's all you could manage with those cerulean eyes staring down at you in interest.

He laughed, thank fucking god, and tilted his head to the side. "It must be fate that we met, is it not?"

"Buy me another drink and we'll see"

Somehow, it didn't surprise you that he simply raised his pointer finger and the server immediately rushed to prepare whatever order he'd signaled her.

"Unfair, I waited, like at least five minutes for some water," you complained, not really putting any real annoyance into it but pouting nonetheless for the effect.

It went a long way because the stranger stepped closer, up into the little bit of personal space one could have in an overcrowded club, and cooed, "What a shame. Who could ever pass such a lovely face and not serve you right away?"

"I don't know," you sighed and smiled at him sweeter than sugar, "I do know that we shouldn't let that tequila go to waste though"

"Then be a good girl and drink up"

Oh, yeah.

Suppose you hadn't already contemplated sleeping with him, that certainly solidified your decision.

This wasn't just fate, this must be compensation for all the shit you've been through this year, wrapped up nicely in 6 feet and more of dripping sex and sultry smiles.

Eyes locked, you both clinked the glasses together before throwing them back. You couldn't help it when your lashes flutter shut.

Once again, the tequila burned all the way down to your stomach, adding to the cocktail of drinks that lowered your inhibitions and made your core throb in excitement.

You would've asked him for salt and lemon if he hadn't looked so unbothered by the pure taste. His lips didn't twitch, while you're sure yours were pulled into a grimace.

"Thank you, Sir," the words left your mouth without a second thought.

Thinking, in general, started to become more of a theory than something you were willing to do tonight; much too exhausting if you could simply let your tongue run wild.

He rewarded you for that decision, for his eyes widened and he stepped even closer, now slotting one of those long legs - and fuck, was he really wearing leather pants? Who had access to your wet dreams?- between yours as he leaned down.

"I must say you caught my interest the moment I saw you on the dance floor," He placed a hand on the countertop, not touching you yet, though the invitation he gave you, the silent question for permission, spoke for itself.

The second move was on you to lure him in and you blinked up at him while you trailed your fingers over the arm, scratching hairless skin with the tip of your nails until it changed into the fishnet top and you placed the hand to rest on one strong shoulder. The red color of your nail polish made such a beautiful contrast to his fair skin that your mind conjured imagines of how they must look on other parts of him.

Surely, with the size of him…

Now that you initiated the contact, he drove forward with his second hand, and the large palm cupped your chin.

While the touch was hot in how it's delivered, so dominating, and fuck if that didn't send warm licks of pleasure down your spine, his hand itself was surprisingly cold.

The temperature in the club was almost unbearable, only manageable through refreshing drinks and a trip or two to the bathrooms, and the spikes of the cool touch fought the heat pooling in your body.

One of those silky locks of hair brushed your neckline, falling right into the cut out of your dress that his eyes shamelessly took in from his higher-up viewpoint.

You took a deep breath, maybe even pushed out your chest as he eyed it in the knowledge that the lace bra was showing through.

All you inhaled was the intoxicating smell of his cologne, vanilla (even though you suspected he is anything but...), and something sweet and without a doubt expensive.

You're addicted to it the moment it hit your nose and clouded your mind.

"Do you not believe that an appropriate thank you is in order?" he inquired; no, he demanded.

You decided to play dumb, not because you thought he's into that – on the contrary, he seemed the kind of man who admired eloquence and intellect rather than dullness – but because it's a game you both enjoyed playing.

There was intrigue in tip-toeing around what is most obvious (lust as well as the urge to rip each other's clothes off as soon as possible, maybe even a fuck in the bathrooms).

"I thought I already said thank you," you mused, pushing out your lower lip into a pout again, "and that lousy shot is hardly worth more than a few words. You can't expect something greater if there is nothing to thank for."

He raised a dark eyebrow – you wondered if he colored his hair or eyebrows – and the hand around your chin lifted your head to twist it right and left.

One smooth thumb brushed over the pout, and he clicked his tongue. "Now now, I would consider this greedy if you were not in the right. You poor thing must be exhausted after all the dancing"

His eyes flashed when yours widened; he really did notice you before, had watched you.

"Yes," he drawled as if he read your mind, and his lips curved into a smirk that flashed a row of perfect bright teeth, "I saw how you moved out there, how wanton you presented yourself. However, it did not escape my notice that you rebuffed anyone who dared to approach."

When you opened your mouth to say something, his finger swiped over your lip again. Without hesitation, you sucked on the fingertip, collecting a few drops of tequila that you made a show of swallowing.

The protest disappeared with it down your throat.

He was right, why deny it?

The way you danced was just an expression of how comfortable you felt in your own body, the rhythm provided by provocative music a tool to follow the movements.

Everything you did, you did for yourself, not for the men who attempted to touch you simply because they were captivated by the dancing. As if you would accept some clammy hands grabbing for you.

"Maybe it was wanton," you said after releasing his finger, but not without scratching your teeth over it.

His pupils dilated, his chest raised at a sudden inhale of air; he apparently underestimated you.

You nodded your head toward the dance floor, "maybe I came here to look for a good fuck, but it's my decision who I take and not theirs"

"As you should. Those boys who tried and failed miserably were amusing to watch. None of them were good enough for you, right, sweetheart?"

You hummed in agreement as well as disagreement. "I'm not searching for anyone good enough," you thought back to all the good-guys who had lured you in with promises of treasuring you only to become insufferable with their need to control in the end.

"Then what do you need?"

"I want someone bad," the tone in your voice was challenging, just like the stare you gave him. "I want someone who won't be afraid to break me"

There was a slight tug on your chin, his hand pulled you in slightly but any further without any movement from you, it would've cause a strain in your neck.

You craved it.

The blonde god, he must be, the thought became clearer with any passing second, a gift, a god, an angel, crushed his mouth against yours. There was a fleeting moment where you realized you didn't know his name, but then his other hand wrapped around your neck, and your teeth clashed, and you found yourself not caring one bit.

You're sure he wouldn't mind if you moaned "God" instead of his name. Maybe he would even get off to it.

Only one way to find out.

It turned out quite hard to manage saying anything at all, his kisses stole every last bit of oxygen, robbing you of the ability to string together words and turning you into a whimpering mess with his tongue and wandering hands.

He called you a devil yet here he was, corrupting you in a way that will ruin you for any other person.

"You taste divine," he sounded as breathless as you felt when you separated and dizziness cultivated in your lust-clouded head at the compliment rasped in that deep voice of his.

"Do not worry," he continued, smearing the string of spit that connected you over your plush lips, "If you allow me I will try my very best to break you"

Hell or heaven, wherever he was leading you right now, your need tripped over itself eagerly.

When was the last time you were this aroused? You felt yourself growing wetter and wetter, and that only through his words and kisses; the state he could push you into if he truly fucked you would be completely new territory, you realized.

A nod is all you could manage.

The last you saw on his face was a wide grin before he kissed you again, this time though, he moved on to your jaw and then your neck. You beared it to him by tilting your head, eyes falling on the ceiling where the neon lights hushed over black brick, coloring your sight while your face took on a flushed red.

The blond devil nipped and bit, sucked and scratched in a manner so animalistic you wouldn't have thought a surely unquestionably sophisticated man to be able to.

You whimpered again, and your hands rose to grab something, anything and you found that ponytail the most accessible. Your fingers twirled a few soft strands as you gasped when his teeth sunk into the delicate skin right where your neck and shoulder met, and the slight pain following wasn't unwelcome.

It made you feel alive.

You're close to pulling him away to the bathroom– an amused laugh to your side prevented that thought from festering any further.

"I'm away for one smoke and you just couldn' wait?"

Unable to think straight after the assault on your neck, it took a moment for you to come back to your senses that don't revolve around lips, kiss, bite, fuck, suck…

Your sight spun as you snapped your head back, nearly knocking your chin into the man still busy marking you up, unbothered that there was another man watching you and clearly waiting for an answer.

So you decided to do the only thing that must convince him to let go, and you pulled on his hair.

He growled, fucking growled, and his lips twisted, flashing his teeth again.

Your heart dropped into your wet panties until you found he wasn't pinning you to the floor with the hard stare but the new arrival.

"Did you not see that I was busy?" he snapped at the dark-haired man, and while you felt slightly scared he was going to rip his handsome head off, the man only sported an annoyed expression.

"Yes, exactly. If I remember correctly, we decided to wait until I get back?"

Decided, waited?

"You took too long"

The man threw his head back in a raspy laugh, "Incorrigible bastard. Will I have to sit you down with a toy to keep you busy while I'm away?"

The blonde turned back to you and smirked, "That will not be necessary as I am quite capable of finding my own toys"

"Hey!" you cut into the conversation, not amused that they talked as if you weren't right there, "I'm not a fucking toy!"

Both men turned to you now, towering over you in their height, and mustering you so intensely that you slightly squirmed under their gaze.

The man with salt and pepper hair chuckled. "I am so sorry, Darlin'. I hope Thranduil didn't play too hard?"

Considering that you still felt the scratch of his teeth on your neck and the wet spit he left there, you felt like some kind of chew toy one would throw their dog but nevertheless, you pushed your chin up high. "Nothing I can't take."

The blonde's, Thranduil's, hand on your waist pulled you into him possessively. "I told you there is some bite behind the pretty face," he smirked.

While it didn't escape you that this hinted to a previous conversation, a plan formed over you, it's the attractiveness of them that led you to turn a blind eye.

"Weren't you the one biting a minute ago?" The music made it hard to talk normally and you stood up on your tiptoes to yell the words, but all that it resulted in is a deep chuckle.

"Oh, I like you," the other man laughed as well.

You took him in, the tight pants that showed off strong thighs and the black and gold shirt with more buttons open than actually buttoned that presented muscles and hair leading down and oh–

"What a surprise," you said, looking up to meet his hungry eyes, "I find I like you too" You turned your head to Thranduil, who smirked and sent you a wink that had you blushing, "So how's this gonna work? I'm going to be blunt and say that five minutes ago I was convinced you and I were on the same page, what's with your friend?"

"Husband"

"Husband?!" you parroted, unconvinced yet when your eyes fell on their hands a gold ring flashed back at you from both fingers.

Heat curled in your body like molten lava at lustful and otherwise utterly inappropriate thoughts this provoked of these two married man having their way around your body.

Thranduil bowed his head lower again, playfully nipping at the part of your neck that surely was already bruising. "I have to admit that I promised Bard to wait for him to come back, though I found I could not follow through when I saw you approaching the bar."

You swallowed. Hard. Not that it helped your very dry throat.

Bard came closer, reclaiming your attention.

His face, more defined than Thranduil's, was adorned with a rugged layer of dark stubble, crow's feet framing his vivid green eyes when he smiled at you. He looked the picture of a soft soul, but you remembered that this couple was picking up a third partner on New Year's Eve, so you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

There was some spice behind the old-armchair-and-book-vibes.

"Will that be a problem, Darlin'?" he asked in that ruff voice, posh and Welsh accent dripping over you.

A refreshment to hear that accent in this city, so enthralling in how it wrapped around you; especially that damn nickname. There was no way you would say no to him.. both of them if he called you Darling one more time.

You shook your head. "No. I think I'll just need a bit more liquid encouragement if I am to survive this night."

"Oh, what a shame," Thranduils lips left where they continued to suck and lap on your neck, peppering kisses, leaving bruises, and moved to your earlobe. His voice dropped as much into a whisper as the music allowed it, "I had my hopes on fucking you into heavenly spheres"

There went the last string of sanity holding you back.

Hearing a man who was seemingly hell-bent on avoiding abbreviations like "don't" and "can't" at all costs speak in such a filthy way was something you never knew you needed.

"I hope you can follow through with that," you trailed a hand over his smooth chest, collecting glitter on your way and smeared it over his throat where his adams apple bobbed, "because if you break that promise like you did the one with your husband, I will just have to let him finish the job"

Thranduil yanked you back into him, back into a kiss that seared itself into your memories and burned the touch, taste, and movement of his lips into every cell of your body.

It was almost aggressive how much teeth went into the kiss, how he bit down and all you could do was gasp and whimper.

Briefly, you thought of the poor people around you, because if all you wanted to do was get a drink and were confronted with one person devouring the other, you would be seething but right now you were being the one he kissed, whose sounds he swallowed and whose hands held you to him.

So fuck them.

With your senses heightened now that you wanted these men all over you, the sensation of Bard leaning in, hair tips tickling your neck as he licked Thranduil's throat, led you to pull away from the blonde. You watched as Bard sprinkled something flaky and white onto the spot wet with spit, and only when he lifted a shot glass the thought crystalized that he salted Thranduil for you.

"Come on," Thranduil's smirk taunted you just as much as his words, "What is another lousy shot? We even made it easy for you poor baby, after you could not take the first one easily"

Rolling your eyes at the mocking, you dove in to copy Bard. The salt sticking to his neck coated your tongue and you took longer than necessary to lick the skin free of it. The rush that this sent through you was exhilarating.

As soon as you were finished, your head got tilted backward firm and yet gently.

Rough fingertips cupped your neck and one thumb moved to press against your jaw, as you felt a solid chest in your back.

"Open wide, Darlin'," Bard ordered and encouraged you to follow him as his other thumb pushed between your teeth.

You obeyed, never once breaking eye contact with Thranduil and taking in his lust-blown pupils, as Bard poured the tequila into your mouth, directly down your throat. Then, while you pulled a grimace, shutting your eyes for a second, Bard turned you around, sandwiching you between them.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw the green slice of lemon between his teeth and following the wink he sent you; you knew exactly what was to come next.

Kissing Bard was very different from getting kissed by Thranduil.

His lips were slightly cracked, not soft and they tasted like smokey whiskey and cigarettes, with hints of coffee and lime instead of fruity cocktails and rose chapstick. Lifting one hand to his face, your fingertips grazed the rough beard growing on his sharp jawline, the stubble scratching you in a promising way.

While you had been surprised when Thranduil had kissed you, you eagerly answered Bard's kiss with fervor. Your mind already teetered on the brink of shutting down and you poured the desperation into his mouth with a moan.

He chuckled, drawing back just enough that he could spit out the lemon – sucked empty – before wiping his thump over your lips.

"Sweet thing"

There was a softness in that gesture, but only short-lived before he kissed you again. His hands trailed your body, coming to rest on either side of your neck again and even that slight of pressure loaded a million images through your head.

A second pair of hands joined him on you, it's confusing until a large body pressed into your back and you realized- it was only Thranduil.

Well, only…

It had been clear that the man could and would not accept being reduced to anything. He radiated an attitude that you would call bratty but with his expensive clothes, that rich perfume, and the wave of the hand that brought him drinks, aristocratic diva seemed more fitting.

His demanding character became clear when his hands set on your waist, immediately fingering the seam of your jeans, pulling you more into him by the belt loops.

You followed that tug, though Bard deepened the kiss to keep you by him, his tongue exploring your mouth and enticing you to breathlessly moan against his smiling lips.

Despite the loud music, Thranduil's voice was loud in your ear.

"As stunning as you right now, I can not help but imagine you squirming on our silk sheets– moving those bewitching hips of yours," Thranduil playfully took the burning tip of your ear into his mouth, "If you want to follow this invitation, of course"

"Whatever you just said," Bard broke away from you to look over your shoulder at his husband, "It better have been the idea of finally getting out of here" he pushed his hips against yours for you to feel the hard outline of him, "because I don't want to wait til the ball drops"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"Thran–" There was a warning edge in Bard's voice, and you felt Thranduil huff.

"Funny, how this old man can not take a joke as soon as he is aroused"

It's absurd how casually he said this while his hands slid down the front of your jeans, earning himself a gasp from you.

Unashamed as a man only his status can be, he toyed with the seam of your underwear, not caring one bit for the glare of his husband.

Your body arched into him, answering the question he had whispered earlier.

The only thing keeping you from getting down on your knees to worship him and his obviously talented fingers was the blaring music, reminding you that you were not yet somewhere private and very much on display.

You briefly wondered if these two were rich enough to simply pay their way out of a public indecency arrest. You wouldn't be surprised if they wouldn't even get arrested.

Since Thranduil made no sign of disengaging himself from you, you stepped away from him, right against Bard's chest.

"Shall we go? Your husband mentioned luxury sheets which I bet are more comfortable than a threesome on the dance floor"

The way out of the club presented itself as more difficult than you would have thought.

With Bard shoving a path through the dancing crowd in front of you, holding on to one hand, Thranduil breathing down your neck and you pausing now and again because "Oh my gosh, I love this song!" it took a lot longer than necessary.

Not that any one of you minded.

Lost in the mass of people shouting, dancing, and pushing you three closer together and the tequila in your bloodstream you ended up undulating to Nicki Minaj's 'Pound The Alarm' completely lost on the fact that both men had stopped to watch you.

The lights were colorful and sharp and in their hues, Bards and Thranduil's jawlines looked even sharper tinted red, blue, green, and whenever the disco ball flashed white across their faces the lust in their eyes caused shivers on every part of you.

Thranduil's hands moved to your lower abdomen, making it easy to grind against him as you raised your hands to Bard's strong shoulders.

Two huge pairs of hands gripped your waist from either side and held you steady and close to themselves, keeping everyone else from getting any nearer than they allowed.

"Fucking hell– Darlin' you drive me crazy!" Bard yelled over the music as you suddenly decided to drop down intact with the beat, dragging your nails over his torso.

You laughed, low and full-heartedly.

Coming up, his hands moved to the flushed skin that your shirt had revealed by riding up, holding you tight to sweep you away into a kiss.

One thigh, leather, and flexing muscles shoved itself between your thighs and you responded eagerly, grinding against it without a second thought.

Just when you thought you were ready to finally go, the song ended and faded into yet another pop hit. 'LoveGame' by Lady Gaga and intact of the low thumping beat, Thranduil's hips circle against your behind, pressing what was an impressive hardness into your arse while his deep voice switched from singing to humming the lyrics.

One of his hands spread over your abdomen, the other arm blindly reached for Bard and pulled him into a kiss right over your head.

Amid the mass of sweaty people and the multicolor array of colors flashing over Thranduil's blonde hair, the 2000s music blaring through the speakers and resonating in every cell of your fevered body, they looked hot enough for the porn industry to sign them under contract.

You were never making it out of the club.

You did make it out eventually, sweat dripping down your temple, Thranduil's chest in your back whenever you stumbled, his hands steadying you.

On what you assumed was an oversight or blind eye of the club owners the crowd had doubled in the last hour.

Far too many people joined the floor and even with Bard's commanding presence leading you it had been close to impossible to step forward and not swerve out of the way of someone drunk.

Outside, the line curved around the block, and those who waited or didn't get into the club or even just hung in groups celebrating on the streets blocked the whole sidewalk.

A number of fireworks were already soaring into the air, sent up there by early birds who couldn't wait until midnight – cheered up by loud excited screams and laughter as the dark night sky lit up here and there with colorful explosions.

Quite sobered up, the dancing had contributed to that, you stared at them.

"How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here?" you asked and crossed your arms in front of you; the winds were biting cold and you hadn't bothered bringing a jacket, "It's madness."

"We will just get a cab"

You barked out a laugh though Bard stayed completely serious.

"Wait, that wasn't a joke?" you rubbed your palms over the naked skin, still warm and thrumming with the afterglow of the unbearable heat of the club, although the cold fought hard and unfairly.

"No, sweetheart, it wasn't," Thranduil said, not bothered by the chaos of people pushing each other, waving their hands like they're trying to flag down a spaceship.

On this day, the chances for that to happen were more likely than actually getting a cab.

He took one step into the busy street, and you yelped, overcome by the shock that he just walked into fucking traffic, his long ponytail swaying with his steps.

Then, like movie magic, a car swerved to the side and stopped right next to Thranduil.

Bard pulled you along, your hand cradled to his chest so as not to lose you. Thranduil opened the door, gracefully sitting down behind the empty passenger seat.

You stumbled onto the back seat next to him, and mumbled a half-hearted "Hello" to the driver, who gave you a nod – a nod, an hour before midnight, from a cap driver, fucking miracles– before shut the plastic window close.

"Holy crap," you exhaled. "Is this what the high life's like? Getting drinks and cabs without any fucking effort?"

Despite the crude and cutting words swinging in their direction, Bard and Thranduil chuckled. The synchronized deep sound reverberated in the quiet cab, warming up the space instantly.

"Do you really think that this" – Thranduil languidly gestures to all of him – "takes no effort?"

Bard huffed. He leaned into you as if he wanted to whisper a secret, but didn't lower his voice: "We were supposed to be here five hours ago. Took him that long to figure out what to wear." He shot a teasing grin at his husband.

"Oh, I have had enough of your whining," In one elegant movement Thranduil folded one long leg over the other. The point of his boot caught your shin in a soft tap that drew your attention to him.

He smirked, one eyebrow raised. "If you are interested, though, I could show you what it is like to ride the waves of the high life"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"No," Bard's lips ghosted over your neck, peppering more kisses to the skin there, "A promise for an unforgettable high"

You were unable to think of what they could propose.. well, you could, but they wouldn't, not here in this cap, right?

Bard's legs were spread a little far apart and, fuck, the flickering lights of the city flying by highlighted a very prominent bulge that he made no effort of hiding. Was he going commando?!

Your eyes snapped back, burning a hole into the roof of the cab.

A hand fell behind you on the headrest at the same moment as Thranduil's cold fingers slipped onto your thigh.

Thranduil's hand snuck to your jeans and played with the button and zipper before,

Oh-

he opened your jeans and immediately slid his cold, long, slender fingers down your panties.

Oh, fuck

Your hips twitched into his hand and you had to bite down on your finger to muffle the gasp that itched behind your teeth.

Without a care in the world, Thranduil cupped your sex, mumbling something to himself under his breath that sounded like a "So fucking wet- for us?" and worked his middle finger into you.

Pulling it out again, he started circling your clit, smearing your own slick over it, moving right over the spot where your nerve endings were sparking white and hot and you shuddered uncontrollably.

The chill of his fingertips heightened your sensitivity. Still flushed all hot from the club, you instinctively arched upward, a soft gasp escaping your lips as Thranduil's fingers tapped against your swollen wet clit.

The noise prompted his gaze to lock onto yours.

Your gasp broke off as your hips nearly flew off the seat and it was only for the belt snapping tightly against your lower abdomen that your head didn't make contact with the roof.

That, and the arm Bard put around your shoulders. He held you down and gave you his biceps to let your head fall against something that wasn't the uncomfortable seatrest.

Your cheeks flushed under Thranduils scrutiny, as well as at the general scene and obscenity of everything, and a subtle smirk played on his lips.

"Do you enjoy that?" His voice was flirty, and while you want to retort that it should be very clear how much you liked his fingers fucking into you, you only managed a nod.

"Say it." He leaned forward, a teasing glint in his eyes. His fingers stopped, clearly waiting for you to obey his order. "Use your words, you still know how, right? I haven't even started, clearly there must be something you could tell me."

"Yes," your admission was barely a whisper, but it sufficed.

Thranduil hummed, using his other hand to open your legs as wide as the tight jeans allowed it before he worked two agile fingers into your throbbing cunt.

You stared at him through half-lidded eyes, watching his relaxed demeanor while fingering you open without caring about anything else.

The heel of his hand pressed into your pelvis, giving him a reasonably steady hold in the jolting cab so that he could hit a spot inside you with precision and with every, goddamn, perfect, thrust of his fingers that made you pant out.

"Thran-" the nickname you heard Bard call him slipped out unconsciously, it's the only thing you could pull out of the depth of your mind, "Thran.. please"

"Beggin' already?" Bard chuckled, "Darlin' you have seen nothing yet and here you are, beggin' to cum in the back of a cab."

"Bard you have no idea how fucking wet she is. She's dripping down my hand, squeezing my fingers, and fuck she's so tight," Thranduil muttered and as he slipped his other hand to the one slipping and sliding against your g-spot in a maddening relentless rhythm, he rubbed them over your folds.

He collected some of your wetness on those fingers, circling your clit again before pulling them away, out of your pants, and to your horror, he held them up into the air, inspecting how his fingers glistened in the city lights.

He rubbed them together, all right in the view of the rear back mirror of the cab driver, who – thank god – kept his eyes on the road and only turned up the radio in unspoken ignorance of what was happening in his car.

God, you hoped these men would tip him adequately.

"Here," Thranduil reached his arm out past your half-opened lips and for a moment you thought he was going to offer you his fingers, but he leaned further forward.

A gasp broke out of you as you watched Bard open his mouth and greedily took both fingers right between his lips, and.. sucked.

His eyes fell shut with a contented sigh as if he were tasting his favorite drink.

You saw his tongue run thoroughly over Thranduil's patiently waiting fingers, cleaning them off every last bit of you, and god, you wanted to be those fingers so damn bad at that moment.

Then he looked at you again. There was such a deep hunger in those eyes that would look beautifully between your legs, brown hair falling messily into his sight as he ate you out.

Meanwhile, Thranduil's fingers inside you moved harder and faster, curling to brush every sensitive spot of your walls, in, out, in, another curl, and then out.

You clenched your entrance in anticipation, the feeling of two of his fingers filling you this deliciously and continuously.

You were so so close, almost there–

"Shit, you're the sweetest. I think I'll eat you for breakfast tomorrow"

The abrupt halt of the cab barely registered for you; instead, it finally propelled you over the edge.

Thranduil's precise movement hit that spot inside you perfectly, crooking his fingers just right to brush against it. Combined with Bard's downright filthy promise, you nearly let out a scream as the powerful orgasm surged through you and you had to flex your muscles so you didn't continue riding his hand.

Thranduil, however, didn't stop, even though there was no way he didn't know you climaxed and he kept up the same pace, same fucking precision and pressure that your body convulsed around those long talented fingers and you couldn't even go anywhere, the seatbelt cut off your escape to the front and you were so far into the seat that wasn't an option as well, and it took a soft broken whimper, for words were long lost, for Thranduil to press a kiss to your neck before he sucked his fingers dry.

Your legs were still shaking as the elevator took you up to the penthouse at the top of the skyscraper the cab had stopped in front of.

Four mirrors gave you a splendid view of Bard's broad back as he crowded you against one of the walls, his thick fingers down your jeans again, as he mouthed hot kisses onto your neck.

"Gonna have to work you open," Bard grunted, his slippery fingers curling inside your cunt in a sinful squelch that sounded absurdly loud in the confined space of the elevator. "You're really too tight, don't wanna hurt you"

Thranduil watched the whole scene leaning at the railing, hands curled around the pole behind him as his hips twitched whenever you let out another whimper; your hands trying to get a hold on his husband's shoulders.

The ride was far too short, Bard's fingers not fast enough for you to reach another peak though the constant movement kept your head in such a nice empty mindless space that you didn't complain.

As soon as the doors opened Thranduil led the way, sauntering into the darkness illuminated by the first exploding fireworks. He pulled on the tie holding his hair up and flung it away let his hair flow down his back, ending just barely over his exquisite arse.

You didn't get to see much of the penthouse, all three of you were very eager to take this party finally somewhere comfortable and you only made out a giant white couch in front of a fireplace, an open kitchen with two glasses, one crystal with golden stains of whiskey, and the other high, the rim still dripping red wine, and a few bookshelves.

"You can get the full tour tomorrow," Bard said while you two kicked away your shoes, leaving them behind on the dark wooden parquet.

You stumbled over his left sneaker and halted in your tracks at the offer. While you had considered his promise of breakfast a spur-of-the-moment chit-chat, it now settled in your head that this wouldn't be like any one-nightstand you had in the past.

This observation only solidified as Bard caught your hand and raised it to press an open-mouthed kiss to your palm. "Do you need anything before we go into the bedroom? Any wishes or no-gos? Safeword?"

"Red," you immediately answered, and he nodded in acknowledgment, "and no, well– maybe hold me a bit afterward?" You blushed at the question though this should be the least embarrassing thing after all these two did to you in the span of a few hours. You continued to ramble, "And sometimes I cry, so.. you don't have to stop then. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed but you can continue your.. thing. Don't bother, I'll be fine on my own–"

Bard's eyebrows scrunched together the more you babbled, the look in his eyes becoming more confused until he shushed you with a quick kiss.

"Darlin', there is no need to explain what you want or don't want. If this is what you need then we won't question those demands," his eyes wandered over your face, making sure you were listening; which you were, heart pounding fast in your chest.

"And it's important you don't push yourself just because of us. It's not our intention to use you for a simple release. Thranduil and I don't take whoever is the first best, especially not to our home. We're looking for someone who suits us, with whom we feel completely comfortable and that should also be equally important to you."

You trusted them both, Bard as well as Thranduil.

The fact that Bard was asking you, nevertheless listening and responding to you was feeding something very primal.

They had done this before, unlike you. They had experience in this, but you were willing to learn, to submit yourself to these imposing men who surely would change something inside you forever.

The pride you felt at his admission of choosing you specifically mingled with the need to get this perfect man inside you quickly, especially now that he said such meaningful and reassuring words.

You nodded and croaked out a soft: "Alright, then please hold me after we're done" which he rewarded with another soft yet sensual kiss.

"Good girl"

Then his hands traveled south and slapped your ass so that your hips flew towards him.

"Now, let's not keep Thran waiting any longer. He tends to get a bit… impatient if left on his own for too long, as you've probably noticed."

Bratty.

You were so on the money earlier.

With that as well as the guess that the blonde was more kinky than the vanilla of his perfume.

At that moment the deep voice of his called out from down the hall.

"I swear, if you two started without me, I will fuck you until neither of you can walk for a week!"

Bard chuckled, then caught your widened eyes.

"He's joking," he said and you let out a relieved breath.

Bard pulled you along, a wink thrown over his shoulder.

"Mhm, partly; he won't fuck me tonight."

You needed a deep breather to ready yourself for what was about to happen, then you nearly tripped over your own feet as you raced after him through the dark hallway and to the only opened door.

You crashed fully into Bard, who for whatever reason, stood right in the doorframe of their bedroom.

"It seems Thranduil got tired of waiting," he chuckled and you wondered what he could mean when he turned sideways.

Your eyes instantly fell onto Thranduil, spread out on the enormous bed in the corner of the room– completely naked except for black, very tight boxers.

There was no air in your lungs, not a single breath left to take as you drank in the sight of him, fair and marble skin shining in the moonlight that fell through the big window next to the bed; the remaining glitter gave his body an unearthly glow. His hair fanned out all over the pillows, silver against grey, moving with him as he lazily lifted his head to stare at you.

There was an indescribable beauty in this man, he could lounge in the bed, his long legs opened in an invitation that you yearned to take, and his lean yet softly defined body posed as if he was waiting for someone to draw him.

"There you are," the corner of his mouth twitched into his smirk, "Strip"

His words, spoken in a gentle tone, boomed loud in your ears.

Your hands flew to your jeans in no second, though they were stopped by Bard, who covered them with his larger, rougher ones.

"No, Darlin', let me"

He stood behind you, taking over the job of undressing you. He did it much slower than you would have, not ripping everything apart in a hurry to obey the command of the blonde whose eyes were heavy on your body, taking in every bit of skin that got revealed.

Bard unbuttoned your jeans first, then his large and warm hands rubbed over your arms.

"Are you cold, sweetheart?"

You shook your head. "No, not cold. I– I feel like I'm burning up"

It was the truth, and nothing but the full, honest truth; you felt as hot as you did in the club, though the reason wasn't the hundreds of people and the alcohol but rather the sight of Thranduil, whose hands trailed over his own body and teasingly played with the waistband of his underwear.

Bard followed your fixated gaze to his coyly smiling husband.

"Should we turn down the heating? We would not want you melting away," Thranduil blinked his long lashes at you in faux-concern. He must've known the goosebumps covering your skin were his doing.

You would've rolled your eyes if you were able to look somewhere else than Thranduil. The man had to be magical, how else could you explain the spell he put you under if not for some supernatural powers?

"Stop the teasing, Thran," Bard cut in, slipping his hands under your shirt and kissing your shoulder. You melted into his touch, comforted that he took care of you like this when he continued, "This poor sweet thing hasn't even all her clothes off. It would be a shame to make her blush like this and not see it"

"Oh, and who's fault is that? Certainly not mine, I have been waiting so long I was close to wrapping things up myself"

Bard pulled your shirt over your head, covering your sight long enough for a wave of braveness to surge through you. "I sure hope you wrap it up," you said and heard both of them snicker.

"Do not worry," Thranduil began.

"There is enough protection for weeks," Bard finished and the band of your bra snapped against your skin.

Despite the warmness of the room your nipples puckered as soon as the lace fell away, growing hard under the avid eyes, cerulean and green, so different yet similar in the way both are dominated by the blackness of their pupils.

Bard's hands came up to your front and he cupped your breasts first tenderly, mapping out how perfectly they fit into his large palm, then rougher as his fingers found the hard buts of your nipples and rubbed them between them until every pinch had your legs trembling and you whimpering.

You cried out, body bucking on its own.

"Oh how nice," Thranduil's comment was full of sarcasm, followed by a click of his tongue against teeth, "Why, let me lay here and play all on your own, why not? After all, I am nothing but pure decoration"

Bard huffed a puff of hot air onto you, "Grow a pair of tits like this and maybe I will get to you first"

Thranduil's dark eyebrows raised to his hairline, passing an unspoken threat that had Bard scoff before he grabbed the waistband of your jeans. He pulled them down slowly, getting on his knees as he did and you were acutely aware of how wet your panties were when you feel his lips kiss your ass.

"This must be uncomfortable," he murmured, holding one leg to help you step out of the jeans. He kneaded your thigh, fingertips against muscles and flesh, before moving on to do the same on your other leg.

He used the moment where you lifted the second leg, to dive his hand to your cunt again, dragging his knuckles over the dark-colored patch, and he laughed as you buckled into the touch. "Oh, the fun we'll have"

Finally, undressed to your panties that cling to your crotch like a second skin, you were free to walk toward the bed. You would've lied if you said you didn't swing your hips a little bit, relishing the raspy groan this evoked from Bard.

Feeling like you should await further commands you stopped (un)patiently when your knees hit the mattress.

Thranduil's lips curved into a devilish smirk at this sign of submission.

He let his legs fall open wider, waving in an elegant gesture into the space in between. "Come here, sweetheart"

The bed was raised and you rose to your tiptoes and, making sure your eyes were trained on Thranduil, you crawled over the mattress, knees digging into the silk duvet he had promised you.

He reached out as soon as he could, one hand curving around your neck to pull and you landed directly on him, legs spread on either side of his thighs, hands somehow, despite their nervous trembling, found their place against his collarbones, standing out from his broad chest rather delicate.

Not that you hadn't suspected and expected him to be big, but, fuck, he was long and hard, a pulsing pressure against your stomach.

"Be a good girl and remove this unnecessary fabric, will you?" Thranduil whispered and you scrambled to lose your panties, throwing them off into the distance only to turn again and find him smirking. "I meant my boxers, but it fills me with joy seeing you this eager"

Lowering your head to hide your laughter, you grabbed his boxers. He lifted his hips just barely for you to pull on the black boxers, rolling them over his tight ass, and after giving you a loving pat on the head, he crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing into the pillows.

His cock sprung free from the containment of the tight boxers, twitching as it hit his abdomen and you felt your throat dry out.

Of course, he was smooth everywhere; not one bit of hair covering the flushed beauty of him.

You sat up, hands pushed into his flexing thighs, to take him all in. No one should look this perfect, this utterly ridiculously beautiful, right? There should be something on him, a scar, a mole, anything to prove he wasn't straight-up carved out of marble, but you found nothing.

You glared at him as you sat down a bit lower, ass in the air, and spit into your hand before you wrapped it around his cock. The sight of his size had your mouth water, and seeing how your fingers couldn't meet had your cunt clench around nothing.

No way any of their preparation had been enough for this intimidating masterpiece of Mother Nature's creation.

"Tell me, how is it fair that you are rich and have a dick like that?" you asked and just as Thranduil opened his pretty lips for probably another witty answer, you interrupted him by letting his cock slide over your tongue deep into your throat until you gagged around him.

Whatever he wanted to say was forgotten.

Instead, Thranduil groaned a low: "Fuck" and threw his head back.

You wanted to see him come undone, to unravel him until he lost this bratty attitude and reduce him to that wild behavior he had shown in the club.

You had the feeling that that's only possible if he thought he had the upper hand.

You bobbed your head, taking him a bit past what you could manage without gagging before lifting your head again.

"Use me," you said and his eyes flew open.

"What?"

Cocking your head, you shot him a confused look, while spreading his precum over the head of his cock with your thumb. "I said," – you spit again, mixing it and coating his dick further – "Fuck - my - mouth"

Every word was punctuated with a kiss to his slit, and you swore you could see his eyes darken further; black taking over blue – desire fought whatever held him back to fucking give into whatever you offered.

Behind you, Bard swore nearly breathlessly: "Fuck me" though you stayed focused on Thranduil.

"Are you sure?" his voice was raw, his facade of composure cracking ever so slightly.

"Wouldn't ask if I wasn't"

His hand was behind your head in seconds, drawing you down his cock again and you opened your mouth wide to not hurt him. He pushed you down until you choked on him and although your eyes watered, you couldn't take them away from the sight of his mouth and the low throaty groans that passed the opened lips.

The lack of air cut off your moan, the tip of his cock bullying the back of your throat just barely short of painful. Reminding yourself to breathe through your nose, you inhaled deeply.

"Good girl," Thranduil's hips bucked, pulling back until he was only half-lodged in your throat, "Just like that, fuck"

He gave an experimental thrust, keeping his sharp eyes on you, his hand in your neck, ready to stop if he saw any discomfort, but all you showed him was how you choked on spit and salty precum.

"Oh, you sweet girl. Behaving so well," his voice was ruined, and he thrusted again, punching away the little breath left in the tiniest space that wasn't occupied by his thick cock.

This was by far the first time you have ever given a blowjob, but it was a first to let someone use you like this. Controlling when you could suck or when you just had to take what he gave you.

And oh– how much you loved it.

So much that you wanted to rub your thighs together only to be stopped by rough hands grabbing them.

A confused sound left you, no more than a choked "Huh?" vibrating around Thranduils cock continuing to fuck into you, just like you had asked him, hindering you from turning to see what Bard was up to.

He didn't leave you wondering for long, just as Thranduil's thrusts took on a sharper edge, hitting the back of your throat every time, filling your mouth like no man ever had, Bard's flattened tongue licked through your exposed cunt and the moan you let out sounded so pornographic you surprised yourself.

"Do it again," Thranduil took in the sight of your wet lips, the drool dripping out of the corners of your mouth, his cock disappearing so deep inside you that felt him in your lungs, "Fuck, Bard, do that again now!–"

He talked for you, praising Bard as he licked your pussy again, this time using his fingers to pry you open further and there was the delicious scratch of his beard stubbles, burning on your skin.

You cried out, tried to do, stopped by Thranduils cock stuffing your mouth again and again, his hands curled around your neck as if he wanted to feel the imprint of himself pushing through.

"Prettiest woman out there," Thranduil groaned. His thump reached over to stuff some of the spit back into your mouth, opening your jaw up impossibly wide.

Bard's tongue was as precise as their fingers have been, covering your folds, fucking into your hole and sucking on your clit with expertise that no man should be allowed to have. Two of his wet fingers slid into you while his tongue mercilessly attacked your clit, the other hand buried itself in the soft flesh of your ass, kneading and pulling, opening you up further for his face.

"C'mon," his voice was muffled by your thighs, drowning you in his accent while he drowned his tongue inside your opening, circling the rim in maddening figures, "Give me one more, gorgeous."

Electricity flowed through your body, hot tingles of nothing but fire spreading into your fingertips wrapped around the inches of Thranduil's cock that didn't fit into your mouth, to your nipples that brushed against his muscular thighs.

"Fuck Bard, please–"

Not sure what you were begging for, for his tongue to stop the attack on your clit, for his fingers constantly finding that spot inside your spongy walls that had you wailing and rolling your hips into his face, or for him to get on with it and get you over that build-up.

Bard kept going, somehow finding a rhythm that matched the one his husband hammered down your throat and you were helplessly stuck trying to hold on.

Until you lost the fight to keep yourself upright. Your hands slipped on Thranduil's thighs, your body crashed down and if it wouldn't have been for his quick reaction of pulling himself out of you, you would for sure have impaled your head on his still hard and throbbing cock.

Instead, it just wetly slapped your face as you collapsed into his lap.

Bard's rough hands grip your thighs, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he maneuvered your legs around to give his head more space.

The other pair of hands, soft, delicate, Thranduil's, cupped your face, lifting it gently yet demanding, giving him the perfect view of your cute face, all scrunched up as you gasped and mewled, and your backside, ass arched into the air under Bard's commanding hands.

"Such a beautiful thing," Thranduil mused.

His fingers danced over your cheeks until he used another whine, another desperate moan when Bard alternated between open-mouthed, sloppy kisses and using the point of his tongue, to slip his thumb into your mouth.

As soon as he did, you closed your lips around him. Staring up at him, begging him silently for a release only Bard could give you, you started sucking on his finger as you would have done on his cock if not for the stars dancing in your field of vision.

Thranduil tutted, "So needy as well. Bard, if you were so kind as to stop, I can not stand seeing her this distraught. I think you are working her up far too much"

"Nooo! Please, please, I'm alright, I'm– please, so close," The desperate scream that came out of your mouth at his words was probably loud enough to alert the neighbors, followed by a cry and sob as Bard kissed your clit one last time.

"Of course, babe" The words were muffled, spoken directly into your dripping cunt.

Which he then shuffled away from, beard stubble scratching you, his fingers letting loose on your thighs.

"No, no please, please," you were already babbling, reaching behind you in a sad effort to force him back between your legs, "Please, I'll be good, please!"

"You sweet thing," Thranduils arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you up into a kiss, "I think–" his voice dropped deeper and you heard the rustle of plastic, felt Bard's hand rolling the condom over Thranduil's cock pressing into your stomach, "–you have behaved so well, you deserve a reward"

You nodded fast, legs spread wide apart sitting on his thighs and your cunt stretched open.

Staring into his eyes, you saw how much his pupils were dilated, how he only watched you, only saw you.

You could see and feel his chest lift as his cock slid through your folds, finding you drenched from all their playing around.

"Eyes stay on me"

Your pussy was wet enough for the tip of his cock to slip right into you and right away you wanted to shut your eyes at the sensation of him spearing you open.

"Please–," you gasped, and tried to move your hips to get more of him into you than just those few inches, but he didn't budge, didn't loosen his grip on your waist, "Please, Thranduil. Green, my color is green, fuck me, I can take it!"

"Yes, and if not," his voice was back to the self-controlled powerful tone, "I'll make you take it, sweetheart."

Thranduil let go of you the second he snapped his hips upwards and suddenly, you were split open.

You keened as his cock sunk into you in one fast, swift, hard movement. There was a burn, in your thighs as you flexed them, in your throat as you cried out, in your pussy at the intrusion of his long cock.

When Thranduil bottomed out, his head shoved against your cervix, the whole length forcing you to stretch, to make room, and fuck you wanted your pussy to be carved into the shape of that perfect cock.

It should've been uncomfortable, but you only groaned as you appreciated the second he gave you to relax while making room where they shouldn't be some.

"Fuck–" he moaned, "you are tight, so fucking tight"

Bard moved next to you, and you could only get one short look at his naked body, the brown hair coating his muscular chest, the happy trail leading down to his thick cock, before Thranduil began to fuck you.

His strokes were fast, hips snapping into you and nearly throwing you off his lap at the speed and brute force and you fell into his chest, clinging to his arms.

This, him rutting into you like your pussy could quench a year-long thirst at a punishing pace, this was surely the epitome of getting fucked. How he knew how to fuck you just right, hitting your g-spot with every single thrust was a riddle you couldn't and wouldn't want to solve; not with his cock penetrating you hard enough you swore you felt him in your throat as you called for him through moans.

You had no chance of even trying to meet his thrusts, not while he pounded into you like a madman.

"F-Fuck, good fucking girl– so tight," Thranduil groaned out his gritted teeth, his face turning a beautiful shade of rosé, "Even tighter than you, Bard–"

Bard, you totally forgot he was even there, laughed and moved on the bed again, slipping back behind you, "Yeah? Tell me more"

And you wanted to scream, to yell at them to stop talking in words that only added to the overstimulation, that spun around your head without meaning because how could anything have ever any meaning more important that Thranduil's cock fucking you a little further, a little deeper.

"So tight, s-so hot, clamping down on me like this sweet, fuck, pussy doesn't want me to leave"

"Mhm, I can see that," Bard hummed and his hands caressed your shaking thighs, before leaving his mark on your ass with a soft slap that had you wailing into Thranduil's shoulder.

It was too much and not enough at the same time.

You were going to lose your mind like this, fucked to near-unconsciousness.

"More, I–" your speech was slurred, brain scrambled into loose words hanging onto thin threads.

You tried to hold on to Thranduil but it was impossible with your sweat and the glitter covering him.

Luckily for you, Bard found the time to stop ever kindly toying with the pearl of your clit to lean forward.

"Put them inside his hair, Darlin'. He doesn't mind" There was a lopsided smirk on his face that you could barely see out of the corners of your eyes.

You still hadn't stopped looking at Thranduil.

The attempt to tentatively guide your hands to his head was prevailed by another particular hard thrust, and your fingers slid through blonde locks, grabbing onto them as you fell back down on Thranduil's cock.

You tugged on them much harsher than intended.

Thranduil's eyes blew wide.

You wanted to apologize when his lips quivered and his hips snapped into yours even faster.

Quickly you reached for him again, nails scraping his scalp as you readjusted, gripping more, much tighter.

"That's it, Darlin'.. that's my girl," Bard leaned back, and not shortly after his fingers were back on your clit, tapping intact of Thranduil's thrusts.

It was only a matter of seconds until the pleasure became too much.

Thranduil's hips fell into a stutter as your walls clenched around him; even for someone with his stamina the heat of you surrounding him, and your sweet moans drove him into a raging need to imprint the shape of his cock inside you.

"F-fuck.. Thran–" you whimpered, hands fisting his hair, trying to get a literal grip as reality started to shift around you.

Outside, close to the windows, there was a whistle as the first of many fireworks greet the New Year and just as Thranduil pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking and tensing up as you screamed his name, the darkness of the sky exploded into an arrangement of thousands of colors.

The white fuzziness that enveloped your vision transformed into creeping darkness at the edges.

Your eyelids closed shut as you descended into blissful oblivion.

When you came back to yourself, it was to the murmur of deep voices mixed into the loud bangs of fireworks.

For a moment you had no idea where you were, enveloped in a haziness inside your mind, but the gentle nudge of something against your lips forced you to open your eyes.

There were two faces very close to yours, was the first realization.

Then, following up, you let out a giggle.

"Don't look so concerned, I'm fine," you greedily took a sip from the water bottle that the very flushed blonde held in his hands.

"You said it was possible you would cry, not bloody pass out on Thran's dick!" Bard wiped the drops you couldn't swallow away from the corner of your mouth with one hand and continued to rub your thighs with his others.

You hadn't noticed they were still shaking.

"Yeah, that never happened before," you shot a smirk up to Thranduil, "Never had a guy fuck me like this as well"

He snorted into the bottle of water, "Believe me, I never had someone lose their consciousness on me before as well. I came shortly after you and when I opened my eyes to find you completely out of it I nearly passed out on the spot as well"

"Would have been quite a shock for you," you said and let your head fall to the side to look at Bard, "both of us orgasm into fainting"

"Not funny, Darlin'," Bard warned, though he laughed as you stuck his tongue out at him.

Stretching your hands over your head and raking them into the air until your bones cracked, you sighed happily. Blissfulness was all you felt after cumming harder than you ever had.

For the first time, you could really enjoy the sight of both men in the nude, you hadn't had the chance to appreciate how fit Bard was while Thranduil had fucked you and you reached out to run your hands over his chest. Twirling some of the hair on there, traveling lower to scratch nails down his happy trail like a route description straight to his still-hard cock.

Stopping shortly before his pubic hair, you glanced up at him, a coy smile playing your lips. "You haven't cum yet." It was much a purr as it was an invitation, your legs falling open right when Bard's hand came to a still on your thighs.

He shook his head, chestnut hair swaying with the movement. "No, Darlin', no! You just passed out. I won't force myself on you. Thran can suck me off or I'll take care of it myself if you want to rest"

Your heart contracted in adoration for this man, and an embarrassing amount of slick gushed out of you.

"Bard," you said, voice wavering as you suppressed a whimper. Somehow this turned you on even more, "Bard, there is enough time to be this caring later but please–" Once again you were begging, and the man wasn't even inside of you yet, "please fuck me"

On the other side of you, Thranduil chuckled, "Insatiable, I knew it. Bard is right though, if you are not well, then he can fuck me"

Slowly but surely you were losing your patience.

As sweet as their concern was, the fact that these two gods were both sitting naked in front of you, one sweaty because he just knocked you out, and the other hard as steel and flushed, only aroused that much more.

Without saying anything else, you maneuvered yourself in the bed until you could rest your head on Thranduil's stretched legs and angled your legs in an invitation.

"Come on you stud. It's the new year after all"

The brunette scanned you with a piercing gaze, you could see him struggling with himself, but the twitch of his cock told you what he'd decided before he nodded.

"Thran, condom please"

You giggled again, excitement and the need to be catapulted to new heights spreading warmly in your stomach.

As Bard put the condom on, you wiggled around, your hand on the move to beat time, but Thranduil reached over you.

He caught your wrist before you reached your center, grasping it with his much larger hand and pulling your arm back with him enough that it forced your shoulders up, a "Tze, tze, tze" admonishing the behavior.

"Impatient brat, make up your mind!" he hissed and tugged some more until you whined, "Feel free to use those pathetic little fingers, knowing they will never fill you the way Bard could" Now that Thranduil knew you were on the same page, his voice dropped into that rebuking tone that left you whining and pouting.

He was so good, so fucking mean in the right amount you never knew you needed a man to act in bed.

"I just wanted–"

"I know baby," he cooed, and patted your cheek, "you just need your cunt to be filled, right? Just need to be stuffed full. Bard will do that for you, no need to worry your pretty head about it"

"That's right, Darlin'," Bard shuffled in between your legs, hooking them both over his thighs as he leaned over you. His cock landed on your abdomen, pressing against your pulsating clit, "Tell me what you want," he grabed himself, guiding it slowly toward where you leaked for him, completely drenched from the orgasms they had already given to you.

"I can go slow, or I can go fast"

You contemplated for a moment and lift the free hand to stroke over his handsome face. His beard tickled the inside of your palm, the chestnut waves silky as the sheets.

"Slow," you whispered, "I want you slow first"

"Alright," he gently nudged his nose against yours before capturing your lips in a kiss.

Although you were still sensitive, still pulsing and throbbing due to Thranduil (who caressed your face and your neck, having let to of your hand to arrange the pillows in his back for more comfort), you relished the stretch and sting of Bard as he guided his cock into you.

He was thicker than Thranduil, not by much but that inch made itself known, splitting you open heavenly so. You gasped into the kiss, giving up the fight of tongues to swallow back the drool that collected the further Bard pushed inside you.

It's just a little bit, one inch at a time, but you cried out all the same.

The thrum of excitement pulses, leaves you trembling and begging in incoherent moans and whimpers.

You could feel him throbbing inside you.

"Good girl," Thranduil's praise washed over you, chilled fingers tweaking one of your nipples as a reward for the exhausted smile you gifted him at that, "Has anyone ever told you that you make just the sweetest sounds? Give me one more?"

He twisted your other nipple; you moaned again.

"Fuck, Thran, you were so right," Bard grunted, his fingernails digging into where he held you by the waist, leaving crescent moon-shaped imprints that you hoped wouldn't fade for a while, "She's fuckin' tight; how are you still this tight?"

"For you," you fisted your hands into his hair again, hoping he enjoyed it just as much as his husband, "J-just for you, everything, ngh– for you"

With one last push, he sheated himself in you completely, filling you up just like Thranduil told you he would, stretching your walls thin.

You felt him everywhere, in every part of your body.

Every nerve, every tendon, every cell burns and was lit aflame, sizzling hot fire licking your skin and bursting when he dragged himself out, leaving barely the tip and pushed back in.

His cock nestled deep inside you, Bard stilled.

There was a silent vigilance in his mesmerizing green eyes. "Talk to me beautiful, is this alright?"

You nodded and pulled him down on his hair into another kiss. "Yes, god, yes"

That's all he needed to hear and while licking over your lips, entangling your tongue with his playfully, he set a slow rhythm. Nevertheless the tempo, he brushed that spot inside you with every stroke.

Pins and needles all over your skin, goosebumps wherever Thranduil's fingers wandered.

There were more fireworks, lightening up the bedroom filled with gasps and grunts, whispers of encouragement and begging. The sound of Bard's hips snapping into yours, the wet squelch of his cock driving itself inside of your pussy again and again.

"There we go," he murmured and positioned his arms on either side of you, using the balance it gives him to roll his hips instead of just thrusting. Mumbling between kisses, he talked against your lips: "Aren't you just the sweetest? Darlin', I couln' believe my eyes when I saw you in that club, shining far brighter than anyone else"

He swallowed your gasps with kisses, nipping at your lip then moved to your earlobe, "You are so perfect, letting us fuck you like this"

In one swift movement, he dragged Thranduil towards him, long blonde hair curling at the edges hanging into your vision in a starlight waterfall. Their kiss left you breathless and you would have felt left out if Thranduil didn't lean down further to you, kissing your lips upside down.

This time it was his fingers that found your slick, poor and abused clit. A couple of firm circles had your hips bucking up to meet Thranduil's fingers, crying out for both men in a mix of their names.

You whimpered as the next orgasm build up fucking fast, your breath catching in your throat.

"Bard," your hips moved on their own, trying to get him to fuck you faster, "Please– more, I need m-more,"

"Darlin'," Bards forehead pressed against yours, his grunts strained as if he was holding back himself but kept the same and steady pace you asked him for, "You sure?"

Grabbing his hair again, you weaved your fingers through it, tousling it haphazardly, achieving nothing but adding to its wild appearance.

When you met his gaze again, his eyes were fixed on you, it felt electric and charged, akin to lightning, causing you to momentarily forget to breathe.

"Yes"

He obeyed instantly, with the next thrust you screamed at the pure force of it. Bard wa spiraling the same way you were, becoming erratic as his teeth grazed over your collarbone, biting every mark they have left on you.

Raising your legs to keep him close, your ankles locked behind his back, heels digging into the tight muscles of his ass. The new angle allowed him to drive impossibly deep, reaching pleasure points inside you you didn't knew existed before him.

The pleasure was blinding, high electricity running through your veins and into every part of your body and soul. This was nothing you have ever experienced before, not with anyone and they made sure it would never feel like this with anyone ever.

Bard, feeling how your walls clenched around him, fluttering and pulsating, begging him to stay inside, sucked on your nipple, hard.

"I need you to come, fuck. Let me feel this pussy come, I'm right there with you," he rasped, voice like gravel, leaving you to scream for him, head knocking into Thranduil's legs, who dared to add to the crescendo of your pleasure and pressed down on your clit.

You found yourself gripping the bed covers, fingers twisting, in an attempt to anchor yourself, sobbing and shaking.

Instead, the coil inside you snapped.

Soaking Bard's cock choking and sobbing, tears spilling out of the corners of your eyes as every limp of you tensed up, he pushed you over the edge, his moans in your ear the most erotic thing.

You felt Bard following you, felt him spilling inside the condom, his cock twitching inside of you as he reached his peak moaning and burying himself to the deepest point, hips flushed close against yours, still rolling and shoving into you.

Moments of silence and heavy breathing followed. Of broken sobs, hushed murmurs of praise, even more affirmations.

Thranduil scootched closer to you, laying down next to you while Bard's weight on top of you was just what you needed. The heaviness of his much larger frame and Thranduil's long arms wrapped around you held back the cold that threatened to take a hold of you as the shivers of pleasure subsided.

"Gods," Bard exhaled, chest moving, pressing more into you. "That was something"

"Happy New Year" Thranduil rumbled.

Minutes passed, more fireworks exploded, celebrations of the New Year while you weren't even sure you even knew what time was anymore.

Bard tried to move, though your legs must have cramped for they felt disconnected to your body.

"Darlin'," he dropped another kiss to your neck, laughing low as your head lolled to the side.

"Mhm-mhm," you groaned, eyes still shut close, "Stay"

His lips moved to your ear, continuing to bathe you in soft kisses that leave you floating in that blissful headspace. "I know, I know–"

Thranduil's hands cupped your face, caressing your glowing cheeks and wiped away the loose tears that rolled over them. "Aftercare first, then cuddling," he whispered and cradled your head, massaging the spot in your neck that started to ache after Bard had folded you in half.

Despite knowing he was right, that you needed to use the bathroom, the warmth their bodies provided held you back.

You whined, arching your back into Bard's chest as he pried your legs away and slowly pulled himself out of you, stopping when your hips twitched at the overstimulation and only continued after a soothing kiss.

As soon as he left to stand up, tying up the used condom and going into the ensuite bathroom, Thranduil's steady hands on your back helped you sit up on the edge of the bed, where he wrapped the covers around your shoulders and gently tapped your nose, before scratching his nails over your head.

"You did very well, sweetheart," One finger tipped your chin up. "Thank you, you are a wonderful partner."

Thranduil, crouched to your level in front of you, still naked as the day he was born, simply picked you up. Legs folded over one arm, your head fell against his glittery chest that was covered in red streaks of where your nails had scratched him.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up"

The afterglow of the very much fantastic sex lulled all three of you in a comfort that blurred the barriers of you being a stranger in their home, laughter and giggles as the shower washed away sweat and glitter.

While there was a liveness to massaging soap into hair, hands rubbing away soreness and splashing water around until the mirror was all but fogged up and steam filled the entire bathroom, the exhaustion of the night caught up close after Thranduil dressed you in one of Bard's large sweaters.

Smelling like wood shavings, pine and toothpaste, hair still damp and eyes dropping close even though you tried to stay awake, Thranduil carried you to the bed.

The sheets were changed, encasing you in laundry detergent and brushing against your naked legs as you let yourself be placed on the pillows.

Outside, the world still celebrated and you did as well, in your own way.

There was a shuffle, a murmur of voices, then the bed dipped on either side as Bard climbed to your right side and Thranduil to your left, leaving not much room between all of you, legs entangling with each other, more giggling until everyone lied down comfortably.

Face tugged under Bard's chin, one arm of his reaching over your head so that Thranduil could nestle his face into it and the blonde wrapped around your back, you were surrounded by something you couldn't put into words.

"Maybe– maybe you can stay for breakfast and lunch," Bard's low words were murmured with a deep sigh, his other hand sliding down under his sweater, resting just below where your heart sung contenly.

"And dinner," Thranduil added and you heard him kiss Bard's hand.

"No talky-talky," you snuggled your face deeper into Bard, nose bumping into his neck, "But I would like that, very much"

Just as you fell asleep, held tightly by them both, you could hear them exchange quiet I love you's and you smiled, feeling their love seep deep into your bones.

#thranduil x reader #lotr x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lotr fanfiction #bard the bowman #bard hobbit #bard x reader #bard x thranduil #thranduil smut #thranduil oropherion #bard smut #barduil #barduil smut #lord of the rings smut #lotr smut #hobbit smut #thranduil x bard #thranduil

[theglamorousferal]

The Cryptid of Smallville

I am posting the first couple chapters of the fic that I am currently working on juuuust in case AO3 goes down again. In the next couple days I’ll start posting some of my wips that I don’t think I’ll finish. If any of them inspire people to write more then I’ll be happy. 

I had the thought a while ago about what if Danny was raised alongside Clark Kent and the hijinks that would result in Danny being near the liminal space that is cornfields. These are basically a series of connected one-shots because I am not that great at trying to do a real plot lol

Without further ado, here’s the first chapter of the Cryptid of Smallville! (Small edit: here’s the link to AO3 the first two chapters are there)

______________________________________________________________ The night sky was clear and open above the cornfields as a gentle breeze caused the plants to stir. It was a calm night on the Kent family farm. A streak of neon green broke across the sky and landed in the middle of the fields, purple tinged smoke wafting from the crash site. A boy of about six rolled over in his sleep, glowing green eyes glancing at the stars above framed by smoke. The gentle breeze is still blowing, returning the night to calm.

*****

Danny was gonna put Clockwork in soup time whenever he got back into the Zone. 

He was laying there, staring at the clouds in the sky, surrounded by corn, and only about three and a half feet tall, wondering where in the Realms he was. Clockwork had said something about sending him off somewhere with people who could handle a child with powers growing up before tossing him through a portal by the ankle. He had ended up in low orbit and was lulled to sleep by staring at the stars he is so fond of.

Crawling out of the hole he was in, he examined the surrounding area and just found a bunch of burnt and slightly smoldering corn and kicked up dirt. The gentle breeze brought the smell of bacon to his nose and he floated to look just above the tall plants around him. He spots a house in the distance and starts heading there, making sure to walk the last few yards just in case this isn’t where CW intended him to go. He finds himself stumbling from the field just to make eye contact with a man pulling on his work boots for the day on the porch steps, the man freezes. 

“Hey Martha?” The man yells into the house.

“Yes Jon?” a voice muffled from the door yells back.

“Do we have a spare room done up?” the man, Jon, asks, not taking his eyes off Danny.

“Why? Are you expecting someone and forgot to tell me?” the voice sounds like it’s getting closer to the door.

“No honey, I think we may have a repeat situation of Clark though.” He briefly glances from Danny up to the last bits of smoke wafting from the field. A quiet “What?” comes from the house. He gentles his voice, full attention on Danny. “Hey son, did you have a bit of an accidental landing in the corn? Is your head okay? Are your parents around?”

Danny stays still for a moment thinking about what’s going on. The man seems to at least suspect that he crash landed on his property and mentioned something about something like this happening before. Have these people dealt with a random child appearing at their house before? Specifically one that crashed from the sky? He has many questions, but he should probably answer Jon first. 

“Yeah, I got sent away until I was better, my head doesn’t hurt at all and my parents are not exactly from around here, and don’t know where I am.” He pauses thinking about it. “Does the children-crashing-onto-your-farm-thing happen a lot to you?”

Jon chuckled as he finished tying his boots up and walked down the stairs just as the door opens and a woman in an apron is standing there looking surprised to see an unknown child standing in her yard. The man crouches down in front of Danny, giving him a once-over. 

“You’d be surprised, now what’s your name son?.”

“It’s Danny Fenton, what’s yours?”

“Jon Kent, my wife over there is Martha. Now you look like you could use a good meal and a washup, how’s that sound?” Jon grins at Danny and musses up his hair before standing and offering a hand to walk into the house. He smiles over at Martha who blinks and then gives Danny a warm smile, standing aside to let them enter the house.

“Good thing I made some extra breakfast then, let’s get some food in you young man, you’re as skinny as a post!” She smiles and heads towards the kitchen. “Be sure to wash up your hands first hun, can’t eat with dirty hands! And Jon! What have I told you about your muck boots being in the house! I’m sure Danny can find his way and wash his own hands; second door on the right hun; and git outta my house with those things on, I’ll have more coffee ready for you once you feed the animals!” Jon pouted and trudged his way out of the house.

Danny smiled a little to himself as he looked for the door Martha was talking about, noting the wallpaper and decor that looked like every midwest farmer’s house he’d seen in any piece of media ever. After washing his hands he made his way to where he could hear soft humming and dishes being washed. He saw a plate of pancakes and bacon on the table next to a glass of orange juice, a glass of milk, and a container of syrup and headed to the spot.

“Thank you Mrs. Kent.” he said from his seat and she smiled back at him, going back to the dishes. Danny realized he’d probably have to start explaining what he could to them soon, but decided to focus on the breakfast in front of him. The breakfast that wasn’t alive and currently trying to kill him. He nearly cried.

“So Danny,” Martha began as she wiped her hands off with a dish rag. “Do you remember how it is you got here?” She joined him at the table with a cup of coffee after setting a mug, a spoon and the sugar bowl next to the machine for her husband when he came in.

“I do, it’s a really weird story though, I’m not sure you’ll believe me.” He was hesitant, he still wasn’t sure these were the people that Clockwork meant to send him to. Though they’ve taken the whole crash-landed-child-thing pretty well… Screw it, he’ll see if he can wait until Jon comes back and explain to both of them. “Can we wait for Mr. Kent too? I don’t really want to say it twice.” 

She smiled at him, taking a sip of her coffee and then nodded. “That’s fine hun, he shouldn’t be more than a couple minutes unless the rooster decided to pick a fight again.” she chuckled to herself, looking out of the window while drinking her coffee. She sees the faint trail of smoke rising in the sky outside and her eyebrows pinch in worry. “You didn’t happen to see anythin’ burning when you got up, did you?” 

Danny glances out the window and sees the smoke. “Oh no, there was just a little bit still smoldering in the hole, but there wasn’t anything actively burning. I can show you both when I finish explaining what I can.” The slapping of a screen door startles him and Jon walks in, heading straight for the coffee maker and making himself a cup, then joining them at the table.

“So Danny-boy, what can you tell us?” Jon gives his full attention to Danny. 

Danny shifts in his seat, looking every part the six year old he appeared to be, uncertain at the attention of two adults. “Well, it’s a long story and kinda out there? I’m not sure how much you’ll believe?” He looks uncertain at the pair across from him who share a look. Martha reaches across the table to take Danny’s hand.

“Honey, you wouldn’t believe the stuff we’re used to, I’m sure it’s fine.”

Danny only hesitated a moment longer and then sighed looking far older than his apparent six years. “So to start off with, wherever this is, I’m not from around here. I’m assuming since you both speak English that this is still Earth, but maybe not MY Earth, I’m still a bit confused on the whole ‘multiverse’ thing, but either way, I got sent here until some stuff got sorted out and so I’ll be here until it does.” He was rambling, he knew, but he’s kind of anxious about stuff. “I kinda got put in my childhood body and now I have to get back to my actual age and my Guardian said something about time here running differently than in my dimension before he just chucked me through a portal. He did say he was sending me to people who could handle my weirdness as I age, so I’m assuming you are them and maybe have some experience with kids with freaky weird stuff happening to them?”

The Kents once more shared a look, this one a little longer than the last, then turned back to Danny. “Oh son, I think you’ll fit in just fine. So, how long can we expect you for? I can tell you’re probably a lot older than six judging by how you talk?”

Danny blinked at him, trying to process the fact that they didn’t seem phased and rather seemed like they believed him. “Uh, I was sixteen, so I guess a decade? I’m sorry to impose on you for a while, really I can figure out stuff on my own, I don’t want to be a bother.”

Jon chuckled “Oh trust me son, it wouldn’t be an issue, I’m sure Clark would love a younger brother, or at the very least a friend who understands him. We have plenty of room here, and though we’d probably ask you for help with chores, we’d be glad to have you for however long you need.”

Danny blinks again at them. They weren’t serious, right? They just seem fine taking in a random child and having him live with them for however long. And who was this Clark? What did he mean by younger brother?

“Clark?” he asked hesitantly.

“Oh right, our son, you’ll meet him when he gets home from school, I’m sure you’ll get along just fine! Now Danny, let me show you to a room and we can get you settled, we’ll probably have to head on over to the thrift shop to get you something to wear besides these charred and muddy pj’s, but we should have something from Clark that’s too small that’ll fit you for now.” Martha took his hand and led him upstairs to where he’d be in apparently his new home.

*****

Clark had had a pretty boring day at school. The classes were boring. He had to hold back in gym class again and when studying the skeletal system in biology, he started studying the teacher’s bones instead of the display skeleton or the worksheet. He was really looking forward to getting home and maybe going for a fly around the fields where no one could see him or maybe catching the latest episode of Rescue Rangers. 

He could spot his house in the distance and after looking around to make sure no one would see him, he sped down the driveway as fast as he could, knocking up a lot of dirt in the process. He really liked going fast, whether running or flying. He just loved the wind in his hair. 

“Ma, Pa, I’m home.” he kicked his sneakers off and rushed upstairs into his room to drop off his bag. He listened around for heartbeats and realized that Pa was out on the tractor and Ma was out with the chickens. He froze as he heard a much closer sound though. It was very slow and faint, but he could hear another heartbeat in the house. Even more, he could hear someone muttering to themselves in the guest room and the flipping of pages.

Clark slowly made his way down the hall towards the sound and peaked in the room with his x-ray vision. There, sitting on the ceiling, was a child about half his age reading a ratty old book about space. Clark stood in the doorway, now able to see him in regular vision and just stared at him. He took a moment until he decided to just join him up there and sat across from him.

“So who are you?” Clark asked while the kid was still focused on his book. He didn’t even look up from the book.

“Name’s Danny.” The kid paused for a second before he looked up and stared at Clark. Danny looked from Clark to the ceiling, to the floor, and then back to Clark. “Oh, so that’s why they said I’d fit right in here. I guess we are pretty similar! I’m guessing you’re Clark then?” The child beamed at him, putting out his hand to shake. Clark took it gently, not wanting to hurt the kid. Then the kid gripped his hand tight and Clark realized that they have more in common than he thought and gripped his hand tighter in response.

“So where are you from?” Clark asked, very curious as to how this kid who could fly and had his strength, but also had almost no heartbeat ended up at his house. Danny rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, I’m not from this Earth and I kinda got put here to recover for a long while and my Guardian decided your parents are the best equipped to handle a kid growing up with powers, so he sent me here. I’m guessing because of you?” 

“Yeah, mine started manifesting around your age. What powers do you have? How long do you plan to be here? Where are you from? You said this wasn’t your Earth, I’m guessing you’re from a different dimension then? That’s so cool!” Clark, ever curious, shot off many questions rapid fire and Danny laughed while answering them all as best he could.

Part 2

#Danny Phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #superman #clark kent #danny fenton #danny is a cryptid #cryptids #de-aged danny #ma kent #pa kent

[eddiezpaghetti]

Okay, so my experience with Stranger Things is a weird one.

I didn't care when it first came out, started to watch it out of "might as well" in 2020, wasn't interested in it enough to make it past S2, forgot about it outside of going "oh, hey, cool, there's a lesbian in it now, I guess," in S3, got really annoyed when "Running Up That Hill" got popular from it because it was a song I listened to on fucking loop after one of my best friends died in high school and I fully expected its appearance in the show to ignore the whole survivor's guilt theme of the song (and was very happy to learn later that it did the exact opposite of ignoring the lyrics), saw people drawing Eddie, suddenly got a lot more interested, watched just the fourth season like a fucking psychopath because I was seriously only there for Eddie, then got interested enough to start the show over properly, having mostly forgotten what I did watch of the show before.

And let me tell you something from the perspective of someone who started with the complete fourth season, who wasn't there from the start, who wasn't tainted by ship goggles or this internal battle of hope and despair, who wasn't theorizing about what the painting could be or expecting Mike and Will to kiss when Volume 2 happened or rooting for Mike and Eleven's relationship to go down in flames or whatever the fuck. Just someone who went blind into Season 4.

It's really fucking obvious that Will and Mike are gonna be endgame.

Like holy fuck. It's so fucking blatant I don't even know why people are nervous.

No sane fucking person would shoot this scene this way if they wanted the audience to care about El and Mike as a couple. Despite being all blurry in the background, Will's reaction to what's happening here is smackdab in the fucking middle, clearly showing that the important part is what's going through his head here. What he's feeling. It's like the opposite of that scene from Kingdom Hearts II where Sora and Riku reunite and Kairi just fucking vanishes into the aether while it's happening because, despite the fact that she was standing between them when the scene began, she doesn't matter to the scene, so she's just kind of gone when the camera angle changes. Will could have been behind one of their heads, or so far in the distance he blends in with the background, but he's not. He's so obvious that despite being massively blurred out, he's still the first goddamn thing you look at. What, you think that's an accident? You think he's in the middle of this dramatic fucking scene because of a mistake? He basically has a big flashing neon arrow pointing at him with "THIS IS THE POINT" being screamed through a megaphone.

And then this?

They're paired up like they're taking fucking prom pictures. Each one of these pairs is so fucking close to one another and so fucking far from everyone else. It's not, "Oh, they're standing vaguely near each other in a group shot," it's fucking Noah's Ark out here. Again, there's no way to take this as an accident. It's not just a framing issue. If they wanted to make the shot look balanced while still not hiding anyone else behind El, they would have scattered people around much more naturally. Even if they wanted to keep Nancy with Jonathan and Hopper with Joyce, there's so much room on that hill for three people to stand on El's left and three on her right. But they didn't do that. They put Mike and Will together on purpose in the most obvious way possible.

Like I get that coming up with crackpot theories is fun in and of itself and I'm not blaming anyone for having fun. I totally get the appeal of arguing a point and reaching for every stupid little thing to pull into it because it's like a game, okay? I've done that. But if you're trying to actually convince someone (whether it's someone who wants to believe or someone who's pissed at the very idea that Mike and Will could be in love), stay away from blue and yellow lights, stay away from costume design, stay away from the existence of closets in backgrounds. And don't worry about whether Mike's gay or bi when he's in love with Will either way. I'll give you a little tip about persuasion: You're only as strong as your weakest argument. Even if you've got strong stuff in there, too, the person you're trying to convince is going to dismiss anything you say as complete insanity the second you start going on an entire tangent about the shape of a character's fucking pocket.

Sometimes, clothes are just clothes. Sometimes, there's a closet in the background because it helps establish that a character is in a bedroom. Sometimes, blue and yellow are just a couple of colors that look nice together. And sure, it might be set designers and costume designers and cinematographers smirking and winking at the audience from behind the camera. But if the show was just those things, instead of those things in the context of everything else, they wouldn't be saying anything of note.

But this?

This tells a story all on its own. Someone with no context can look at this and automatically assume that each paired person is standing with someone they care about deeply, seeking comfort as they watch some sort of disaster unfold. And yeah, romantic couples usually come in twos, and we live in an amatonormative society, so that's going to be the first association anyone makes seeing a bunch of people paired off.

It's the same reason you look at this

And go, "Oh..."

"Those two are probably a couple."

And I genuinely don't understand how people could have watched S4 Vol. 2 and gotten scared. Because as someone who went in with no investment whatsoever, I just looked at these two--

--and went, "Oh, those two are a couple. Good for them." And I moved on. Shut up about the trees for five seconds and just see the forest for what it is.

Oh, and if you're still nervous? Little thing from a storyteller here: You don't leave a hanging thread like "Will confessed his romantic feelings for Mike by projecting them onto El, but Mike either didn't understand or at least didn't say he understood," without coming back to that later. That's Chekov's gun hanging on the wall, babes. It's gonna fire at some point. If Mike was going to reject Will's feelings, if they weren't relevant, they would have had that discussion in Argyle's van. There'd be no reason to leave you in suspense.

#byler #meta #stranger things #theory #I mean I fucking guess #in the same way gravity is a fuckin' theory. #It feels silly that I even have to say this honestly. #Watching people freak out over these two feels like I'm being pranked. #Like you guys aren't pulling a Goncharov are you? Just making believe there's any chance these two aren't gonna be endgame? #Like completely ironically? And I'm too autistic to catch it? #It genuinely feels like I'm explaining that red and blue make purple here. As if you guys should have learned this in kindergarten. #Or like watching whole-ass adults watch Cinderella for the first time and being on the edge of their seat #wondering if she's going to live happily ever after with the prince or not. #It feels like I'm talking DOWN to people and I don't WANT it to feel like that but it's so obvious and I don't want people to be like #anxious for no reason you know? #Like I get that we're all scarred from queerbaiting and I know you guys are biased from years of shipping these kids. #But like. These guys? The most obvious 'there's only one way this could go' couple I've ever seen? You're scared about THEM?

[aceyogurt]

I was wondering if you're okay writing an Angel Dust. M!Reader. More specifically Drag Angel Dust. I haven't seen anyone make these before so this is an original idea. A one-shot if perfect, but you can do whatever you want. You can do this as smut or fluff, it doesn't matter! Have a great rest of your day!!

Late night show (NSFW)

A/n: HEYYYY SORRY FOR THIS TAKING SO LONG. I’ve been like dead I know anywaysssssss Angel Dust smut and he’s a drag queen!!!! Okay little note tho I don’t much about drag nor have I written male x male smut before so I apologize if it’s not the best!

Word count: 1.5k

It was an annoyingly long work day today, and the feeling inside yourself was of complete emptiness with a small amount of annoyance. Usually, whenever a day would go on like this you'd get home, open a bottle, and drink till the bottom, but tonight was different. You had been overhearing talk of this new drag show which was supposed to have some good acts. (along with cheap booze). While you’ve never been particularly interested in drag shows you figured fuck it why not. (and again cheap booze was enough to cash you in). 

Figuring that these types of places aren’t exactly ‘formal’ you changed out of your work uniform, and now the issue came to what you would wear since you didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb. You decided a simple color crop top with some shorts would work. And so you were on your way! Luckily the place wasn’t hard to find because, when coming up to it bright pink neon signs filled your view, Spiders Lounge underneath in smaller print stated it was both a drag show and bar.

Entering the place it was a more typical club set up but, having a pink stage with silk curtains near the back. You figured you'd get a drink (or two) then make your way down to the show and watch well whatever the fuck drags do. (Why would you go to a drag show not even knowing what it is you dumb fu-).

Going up to the bar you were met with a cat like a bartender who seemed pleasant. “What can I get for yah boy,” the bartender asks and you reply. “Whatever’s the cheapest you got.” you hear a soft husky chuckle as he goes to get what you wanted. In the meantime, your eyes wandered the club, familiarizing yourself with your surroundings. As your attention wandered to the stage the bartender spoke to you while sliding the drink order to you. “First time here?” you took a good gulp from the drink “Yeah” the bartender was cleaning a glass while nodding “You should pay attention to this next guy that starts in a few minutes. Crowd loves him” While you weren’t exactly interested in the drag performers themselves you figured you’d continue the convo, “Oh yeah? And what’s so special about him?” the sinner laughed and simply replied, “You’ll see”. You rolled your eyes before ordering another drink.

As you were making your way down to the stage area you saw there was much more of a crowd now, and along with that the lights had dimmed a lot more giving much more of a romantic atmosphere. You didn’t care to stay too close to the stage so you took a seat in a booth nearby away from the huge swarm of sinners who seemed more than eager to see this special performer.

A speaker played above everyone “And now the performer of the night, Angel Dust!~” The lights dimmed as the club seemed to almost go silent, whispers probably had appeared near the back but, no one near the stage dared to speak, that’s when the curtains opened and pink neon lights silhouetted a performer. A new York-style style accent had begun to sing. “Till death do us part” he hadn’t even finished the first line and the crowd started falling head over heels. Throughout his performance, the lights started to become less harsh allowing his features to show much better. And damn, you had to admit he was fucking hot. Having a latex black dress with a pair of platforms really brought out his character. And his makeup was perfectly done with long and thick eyeliner that could mesmerize anyone who fell into his web. He made eye contact with you at one particular part of his act and winked. You could feel your face turn red (along with something else).

While the song had ended he started to move onto the next part of the performance. “Now that that's over with this next part of the show Ima need a guest volunteer” Sinners everywhere started shouting and begging to be chosen by him, but none of them knew he already had the perfect sinner in mind. “You in the back” his eyes were in your direction and you turned both ways to see if he was referring to you before giving him a confused look. “Yes, you pretty boy, come up here”. Now if you were sober there was no way in hell you would've gone up, but those drinks had helped you loosen up and you felt your legs carry you up onto the stage. You watched as other sinners shot looks of daggers and envy at you as you were met to the side of the spider. “Before we get onto the main course, what's your name sweet cheeks” Angel asked directly to you and handed the mic over, you tell him and the crowd your name before he takes the microphone back to continue on. “Well for this performance tonight I’m gonna be dancing with the guy here and see how well he does.” the crowd became even more envious of you, but all that you could think about is the fact you couldn’t dance. At all. So you tap the performer on the shoulder (or the closest you could get to it) and softly speak to him, embarrassed not letting the crowd hear. “I can’t dance at all. I think it’d be better if you-” he cut you off grabbing your arm to pull you close to him as he spoke back in the same quiet manner. “You don’t gotta think about anything, just follow what I do.”

You weren’t even given the chance to protest back as the music started playing and he guided you around the stage, while you yourself couldn’t dance, he sure could. Spinning around doing all kinds of moves the two of you mesmerized the crowd and halfway through the song those thoughts that had been clouding your mind were nowhere now. And Before you knew it the song was over and he was holding your hand up as he smiled at the crowd who was cheering. 

After That it was kinda a blur but, what you do remember is the spider pulling you into his dressing room locking the door behind him. You guys ended up on his camel back sofa with his legs wrapped around your torso and arms all over the place. Your kissing was nothing calm nor romantic, it was messy and lustful. “The moment I saw you had me feeling things yah know that toots?” Angel spoke between a mouthful of kisses. You guys didn’t stop as you moaned in his mouth. Infatuated with one another the positioning stayed more or less the same as his head rested on the cushion of the couch and you on top of him with heavy breathing. His legs stayed wrapped around you as one pair of his hands reached towards your pants rubbing against the bulge that had been formed. It didn’t take long to remove your lower clothing and the dress Angel had been wearing. Of course he had a one piece so now he was completely bare in front of you and god, he looked even better without any of the intricate clothing designs covering his fur. Your hands were on his wait as you two began to kiss again. It felt so much messier than it did a few minutes ago. But, even not fully getting into it yet, you knew Angel was experienced from the way he moved and talked, you don’t know if that made you nervous or even more turned on but, when you’ve had everything that’s happened to tonight happen, it all kinda mushes together. While you continued to be interlinked with one another Angel’s upper pair of arms reached into a drawer near the sofa pulling out a bottle and condom. While he was opening the bottle you had been handed the condom. Neither of you wanted to pull away from each other even when needing to prep yourselves.

Angel was surprisingly quick to get ready (partly because he starts before every performance-) but, as you were both ready he guided you now, leaking a tip to him. As you had started to enter inside your grip naturally tightened and he was wrapped around you. When you had bottomed out both of you let out a moan and Angel’s top pair of arms firmly latched onto your shoulders. That’s when you did one slow thrust, then another, and another, before you knew it your pace had become fast and deep, which Angel loved. He moaned telling you to keep it just like that as you then hit his g spot. He wanted to fucking scream, and the sound he made was plenty enough to make you come on sight. One of you guys cursed, you're not sure who, maybe it was both of you as you went through your orgasm. And not long after Angel also had one of his own. You just stayed inside him for a bit before pulling out and laying against the head of the sofa in a sweat. While you had been waiting for Angel to kick you out or something he got up to hang up his dress and looked over to you not even seeming to be exhausted. “So toots, you wanna do a round two?”

#hazbin fandom #hazbin fanfic #aceyogurt #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #angel dust x you #angel dust x y/n #angel dust x male reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin smut #hazbin hotel smut #angel dust x reader #angel dust #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you

[belovedwhore]

pretty boy pt 4

ethan landry x reader

warnings: smut, little bit of plot, slight nipple play, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation

notes: sorry i’ve been gone for a while but i’m back and i come bearing gifts. i hope you enjoy this cuz i grinded this shit outttt. anyways enough chit chat please enjoy and indulge you ethan obsession below

also he was at econ

pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5 , pt 6

————————————————————————

it’d been almost a week since the party and the morning after where you and ethan had hooked up. you guys haven’t done anything since, not really having time between your opposing classes or any opportunities to sneak away from your friend group when you all hung out. but you’d see him tonight at yet another frat party chad was dragging your friend group to.

“chad what are you a frat boy now,” you asked while your friend group walked campus, making your way back to your apartments to get ready for the party.

it was already 7:30pm and you guys wanted to meet up again around 9pm to walk to the party together.

“fits the role, i mean look at him he’s a curly headed himbo,” tara teased.

“hey i’m not a frat boy,” chad argued, “but… if i were that wouldn’t be a bad thing ya know not all of them are douchey assholes.”

“yea, only ones named chad,” mindy chimed.

“oh fuck off,” he scoffed as the rest of us laughed.

after like twenty more minutes you arrived at tara’s apartment building. you held the door as mindy, tara, and anika headed inside. chad was going to head to his dorm to get ready and come back later.

“see you later,” he spoke as he started to leave.

“oh wait,” you stopped him, “is ethan coming tonight?”

he smirked at your question, making kissy faces teasingly as you inquired about your “friend”.

“oh fuck off is he or not?”

“yea he’ll be there but later than us, he has a late econ class tonight so he’s coming on his own,” chad finally answered.

“ok, good,” you replied nodding to yourself.

“well i’ll be back,” he said heading for the door, “see you soon sex demon.”

this goddamn nickname, fucking tara.

as promised chad returned about an hour later and you guys all left for the party. it wasn’t too far a walk, just fifteen from tara’s apartment. the theme for the party was neon so you opted for a white crop top with a neon pink skirt. the other girls pretty much went for the same thing just a different variety of colors. and of course our beloved himbo went for the sleeveless route with a pair of neon blue shorts. the five of you arrived at the house and were let into the party. it was a house party, nothing too crazy but there were a lot more people than usual, the lighting dim in the living room with blue leds around. anika and mindy left to go find a spot on a couch somewhere, they enjoyed people watching at these things. you, tara, and chad spotted a table of jell-o shots, each taking down three. you guys talked as the alcohol started to affect you, dancing and singing to the music. after a while you guys headed to kitchen to get some more to drink. the lighting was better in the kitchen as the three of you took three shots of vodka together. as you slightly zoned out you felt the shots start to warm your skin as you had just downed your sixth of the night, giggling with tara fumbling for a drink to carry around. snapping you out of your daze was a yell that came from chad.

“ethan,” he screamed across the island over the loud music, “you made it.”

ethan made his way to over to the them on the other side of the island, slightly stumbling.

he drunkenly laughed, “hey guysss, look it’s my friends!”

he wrapped his arms around the three of you, well as best as he could. you weren’t exactly sure how he was already drunk and better yet a little drunker than you.

“ethan buddy,” chad laughed, “when’d you get here and how are you so fucked up?”

“i’m not ‘fucked up’ chad,” he playfully punched him, “just slightly buzzed, and some guys from my class said they were coming here too and invited me to pregame.”

“pregaming wow,” tara gasped patting him on the shoulder, “who are you.”

you laughed at her exaggeration, tara was quite outspoken well more than usual and touchy when she drank, very similar to you.

she chirped, “chad come with me we’re gonna go kick ass at pong,” grabbing his hand leading him into the crowd.

“you mean i’m gonna kick ass at pong while you stand there looking hot,” he scoffed, allowing himself to be dragged away leaving you and ethan alone in the busy kitchen.

his hand began to dance along your waist tracing the exposed skin, sending chills up your body.

“i haven’t seen you in a while,” he told you, moving closer so you could hear him clearly.

“i know,” you swiftly answered.

“i’ve missed you, you know, in more ways than one,” he trailed off, his hand reaching up your back.

“oh really,” you inquired, “you’re cute like this.”

“like what.”

“drunk and talkative and touching me.”

“oh i-i could do more of that, hmm” he whispered moving closer to your face.

“mhmm i’d really like that-,” you rushed out kissing him quickly.

you both melted into the kiss, having not seen each other for days, longing for each others touch. ethan took control for the first time in this kiss. you felt him bite your bottom lip slightly, pulling it and using this as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. his tongue explored the depths of your mouth, eager to know you better. you moaned into the kiss, pulling him closer to you by his waist when suddenly you felt him pull away. you were both breathing heavily, his lips were red and plump from your kiss and you only wanted to do it again.

“upstairs,” he spoke, taking your hand and leading you to any empty room.

took about four tries but finally you found an unlocked and unoccupied room, rushing inside. as you entered the room ethan quickly resumed your kiss walking you back until the back of your legs hit the bed and you both fell atop of it. he hovered above you kissing you strongly and massaging your thigh. he brought your leg to his waist, grinding onto your center as he moved his lips to your neck. he kissed your earlobe, sucking marks into your skin that were sure to be seen tomorrow. you whimpered as he nipped at your neck, licking stripes after irritating the area.

“e-ethan,” you moaned, gripping his hair tightly.

moving your hand down his body you reached his clothed cock, hidden under his joggers. you began to palm him through the material, massaging his hardening member as he trembled above you. then you felt him grab your wandering hand and move it above your head, now straddling your hips.

breathing heavily he removed his own hand, moving his lips down your chest, pressing quick, wet kisses to your collarbone and down the valley of your chest. he rubbed your tits through your shirt and bra, peeling back the layers to reveal your plump tits and hardened nipples to the air. he immediately attached his lips to one nipple while playing with the other, rolling it between his fingers, pinching it. you squirmed under his body, yearning for any type of friction to help relieve pressure on the knot forming inside of you as he tended to you nipples. he switched to the other, swirling his tongue around the bud sucking on it. you jolted under him as he pinched and pulled at your chest, the fleeting pain soothed by the lick of his tongue.

“you are so fucking hot,” ethan groaned into your abdomen, kissing farther and farther down.

he reached your skirt, looking up to you for permission to take it off which you granted by helping him take them off. he now knelt on the ground in front of you on the bed, legs spread in front of him bearing your clothed cunt. he placed your legs over his shoulders, resting his head between your thighs, breathing directly on your cunt.

“ethan p-please,” you whined, moving your hips, pushing your mound closer to him begging him to do something, anything.

he pressed his thumb on your slit, running it through your clothed folds. you could feel his breath on your cunt, laughing to himself as he teased you. he found your clit, massaging it under his finger feeling it enlarge. taking a deep breath you quickly lightly kicked ethan onto the floor before removing your panties yourself since he clearly had no plan to anytime soon.

“stop fucking around,” you cursed breathlessly now sitting up on the bed with your legs spread.

you took off your shirt and bra, tossing them somewhere onto the floor. ethan still lay on the floor looking up at your now fully naked body. he was basically salivating at the lips, moving closer to you as you started moving your hands towards your bundle of nerves. you reached your cunt, dipping your fingers in one swipe making you moan loudly at the sensitivity of your nerves. ethan approached again, kneeling between your legs heading straight for your cunt. he licked between your folds as you lay back on your arms watching him.

“oh my god,” you moaned.

“y-you’re so wet,” he whispered between your legs, delving back into your pussy.

he placed his entire mouth on your heat, flicking his tongue between your folds, collecting your fluids. he sucked on your clit strongly, gripping your hips, keeping you close to his face. you dropped on the bed unable to hold yourself up any longer. whining under his touch, you grinded your pussy on his face eager for more.

“ethan fuck i-i,” you stuttered as he attacked your clit, “so good.”

he groaned at your praise, sending vibrations through your body as his mouth was attached to your heat. you could feel the bundle of nerves become tighter in tighter in your core, close to unraveling.

“m’ so close pretty boy,” you moaned out with a string of profanities.

suddenly you felt his tongue enter inside of you, licking the inside of your walls and you nearly came right there. you gasped, the feeling shocking you as you moaned with pleasure.

“don’t- don’t stop,” you pleaded although it was clear ethan had no intention of doing that.

he gripped your hips tighter, pushing his tongue deeper into your cunt, fucking you with it. you squirmed in his hold, struggling to keep yourself composed as you rapidly approached your high. your legs trembled on his shoulders as you started to lose strength in your limbs. fucking you harder and faster with his tongue you lost all composure and came hard. you released all over his tongue and mouth as he rode you through your high, still attached to your sensitive heat. your legs trembled, falling limp as your body shook with your orgasm, ripping through every part of you.

“ethan,” you groaned weakly, “fucking hell.”

you pulled him off of your cunt by slightly tugging on his hair, the overstimulation getting to be too much. he crawled up to your position on the bed, kissing your forehead and all around your face with your juices lathered across his face.

“good?” he asked as if you weren’t violently cumming in that very mouth sixty seconds ago.

“really fucking good,” you answered quietly.

“can you do it again?” he whispered, reaching his fingers down to toy with your pussy.

“you-” you gasped as he ran his fingers through your overly sensitive folds, “m’not gonna be able to walk.”

“i’m strong, i’ll carry you.”

“you’re not gonna fucking ca-,” you spoke interrupt by two of his fingers stretching your cunt.

“cmon for me,” he whispered, “for your pretty boy.”

you couldn’t deny the pleasure, as you nodded for him to continue fucking you with his fingers. he started slow, curling them inside you while observing your face contort at the stimulation. he kissed you softly as he began to fuck into you faster, curling deeper and harder into your already sensitive cunt. you moaned into the kiss, now opened mouthed looking at his fingers move in and out of you. as your head rolled back from the familiar building pressure in your cunt ethan placed kisses along your neck, sucking marks into the skin and whispering sweet nothings into your ear,

“gonna cum in my pants,” he breathed into your ear, “y-you’re too much.”

his words spurred you on as you rolled your hips against his fingers chasing your second release of the night. for the final time ethan increased his pace, now ramming his finger deeply into your cunt. the sound was obscene as his fingers rapidly entered your cunt still filled with your previous release along with your new arousal. you whimpered under his touch,

“oh my, fuck fuck,” you yelled, approaching your high.

ethan kissed you as your second orgasm ripped through you. you pushed his hand out of you, unable to take the overstimulation again. he rubbed your legs as they twitched while you came. your breath was heavy, unable to take the orgasms you’d reached in the span of five minutes. you turned your head towards him, kissing him weakly with all the strength you had.

“only you, pretty boy,” you spoke breathlessly, “only fucking you.”

he helped you sit up as you needed to get dressed.

“i was nervous,” he told you as he fetched your clothes from all over the room, “never done that before.”

“be nervous more then cause you nearly fucking killed me.”

he looked worried before you clarified, “in a good way.”

“ohhh, kay good,” he smiled kissing all over your face before helping you dressed.

you put on your bra and top okay. but you let ethan put on your skirt and panties because of the current state of your legs. he kneeled on one knee, letting you hold his shoulders as you stepped into your panties and he pulled them up your legs, same with the skirt.

“ok, let’s go everyone is probably looking for us,” you said as you stepped forward but faltered.

he caught you by your hips, laughing at your inability to really walk on your own.

you lightly punched him in the shoulder, “this isn’t funny, you did this to me. what are we supposed to tell everyone?”

“i don’t know,” he shrugged still smiling.

“oh fuck you,” you scoffed turning around, “now help me out of here.”

ethan hurried to your side, opening the door and guiding the two of you out of the room.

#smut #scream 6 #ethan landry smut #ghostface #scream #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #no plot whatsoever #scream fanfic

[fandomobbsessedb]

Alastor x F!Overlord!Reader

AN: this is the result of the first poll I posted, Alastor won so here we are!

I’ve kinda broken this into two bits in this one shot, there’s a warning farther down if you want to keep within the ideas of “headcannon” but farther below I have the start of a story, I got a bit carried away and am too far gone to delete it.

⚠️Warnings: mentions of blood, death, weapons, smoking, maybe 1 instance of cannibalism ( but its more in the sense of revenge rather than a canabalistic reader) (idk man it’s hell if your triggered don’t read 😭) this is really long already so I might just break it up or continue it to make a part 2. I have a LOOOOOOT of references in here to so many things, if you guys can pick up on them leave a comment and I’ll tag list you in my next fic if you want! Or don’t I honestly couldn’t care less it’s just for fun :p

Reader is referred to with afab terms.

Pt2-

================================

• In your life you tried to stay on “the right” path. Your parents raised you right, you tried your hardest to be nice, and where always on your best behavior, but after getting the short end of the stick for too long you kinda… loose it.

• You ended up in hell after a night out partying with some of your most valued clients, when you went to drive yourself home the heel of your stiletto got stuck under the gas pedal, as you tried to pull it out you took your eyes off the road and 💥 BAM 💥 you where hit by a large grocer truck.

•Opening your eyes to a red wasteland, the bright flash of lights and the smell of brimstone flood your senses. Looking down to try and gather your bearings you notice your whole body wasn’t (skn/tn) anymore… it was marble grey?

“Where… where am I?” I mumbled under my breath, trying to gather my surroundings, a bright flashing catches my eyes, a gigantic neon sign in the sky gives me my anwser…

“Welcome to Hell!!!”

“Hell…. I’M DEAD?!!!!” I groaned out through barred teeth and stood to my feet, looking around I saw definite signs, this was Hell alright. A blood red sky, fires everywhere, little sinners running around stabbing and shooting one another.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, ALL MY WORK, MY SHOPPING EMPIRE, MY CLOSET, MY AWARDS, MY EVERYTHING, RAAAAAAHHH!!!” In my anger I grabbed the nearest sinner and threw them to the ground, putting my foot between their shoulder blades and grabbing their arms.

“You’re gonna tell me right now, what the hell is going on, WHY AM I DEAD AND HERE-” I shouted in their ear, seeing blood come out… oh shit I probably burst their ear drum… oh well, I’ve done that plenty of times to my assistants.

“D-d-do you mean, like in hell, or or just this area?” They questioned nervously. To be fair they were a scrawny little thing…

“What in the-“ I paused to look around, then referred back to this little shit “actually HELL are you talking about?”

“W-w-well, you must, *gulp* you must be new here, huh?” It asked with a weary smile and a weak little laugh, probably trying to ease the tension. “Well, down… down here, we uh, we have overlords who- who rule certain areas, we’re in Ms.Leefolt’s t-t-t-territory right now, I mean, our king Lucifer, Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar rule all of hell…”

“Well, that certainly is… intresting.” I smirk and stand up, releasing his arms but not letting my foot off his back. “So these, overlords… are they appointed by your king, or born into or something?” I question with a sharp red nail in between my teeth, thinking…

“No, no ma’am just, just anyone who’s ballsy enough to, to, take over enough territory and have enough demons- sell them their souls in exchange for something. Umm- if it’s not too much of a bother, could you let me go… I- I can feel my ribs crushing under me…” it started wheezing out and trying to get a hand under its chest to place a barrier between their chest and the ground.

“Hm, well if that’s all true, I can’t let some little thing like you going around gossiping about me.” I growled looking down at this freak… pressing my heel into his spine harder.

“No! No please, I won’t say a thing I promise!! Just let me go, please… pleas-“

SPLAT-

“Whoops, my bad, I slipped.” I reasoned, pulling my now bloody leg out of his torso.

“Ohh, eeeeeew eweweweweweweeew, I’ve got bits of his, ugh, lung on my heels.” Flicking away the bits of organ from my shoes, I take a breath and another look around but this time in a planning sense. Overlords huh, well, I’ll just have to see how much this ‘miss leefolt’ likes the taste of arsenic, I wonder when the last time she had a homemade pie was….

• So of course to establish some dominance in my new living arrangement, I gutted that bitch from the inside out. I took her territory, her power, her souls, even her manor. When I went to her office to kill her I found the deed to her house and all the contracts of sinners who gave her their souls in a pretty shittily hidden safe.

• I mean, I had to work so hard to build my life up just for a stupid grocer to end it all, so this is fine… right?

• The years go by and the world changes, you became one of the most powerful and influential overlords in hell, re-establishing your power once held on earth to a business in hell. Rosie and Velvet quickly becoming your closest friends, Velvet in a more business sense and Rosie being your go to gossip gal. Both of you having elegant and refined tastes. You and Husk became friends over talking shit in a casino one night, and remained friends after his downfall. He talks to you about this, radio demon, from time to time but you haven’t heard much of him

Little do you know he knows almost everything about you~

• Your walking around Cannibal Town one day waiting for Rosie to finish a meeting, watching children run around and little carts selling all kinds of body related snacks.

I lost a bit of my sense of surrounding and almost tripped on a kid running around with his friend throwing a head back and fourth.

"Jerermy! Stop playing with your lunch and apologize to that nice lady you almost ran into."

"Sorry miss, I didn't mean too." He said looking down at the head ashamedly, then offering me a piece of the cheek. "Would you like some of this face? It's really good." He looked up at me with an excited look. "Oh thank you, but I'm waiting for lunch with my friend, I'll go to the butcher and get some though, it looks really good." I smiled my pointy teeth at him, patted his head and motioned him back to his mother, she waved to me and I nodded my head back, thinking it was time for Rosie to be done by now.

"My my, with your reputation of anger issues I would assume you would tear that poor child into bits upon realization." A staticky voice spoke behind me, tilting my head back but not my body as I don't know who it is. I look him up and down, his outfit and cane/staff thingy give off quite the powerful impression. "My, mhm, reputation?" I pester raising my eyebrow.

"Ah-hahahaha, My name's Alastor, its quite a pleasure to finally meet you in person." He introduced reaching for the back of my hand to place a kiss. Him saying his name reminded me, I too finally recognized the name. "Oh, Rosie has told me much about you." The radio demon, his names been brought up many times around cannibal town since he frequented their shops and small town locals.

"Oh yes, Rosie is one of my dearest friends" He replied linking our elbows and started walking towards the shop. "Mine as well, she is quite the darling, so let me ask you now, where you just standing there when I got to the park, or where you going to follow me in silence since I left the emporium~" He didn't stutter in his step but my revelation made the air feel a bit more, weary on his side. Reaching into my hand purse I grabbed my lipstick and hand mirror and paused my walk to apply a touch more. Looking just past my lips in the reflection I saw his eyes in the back corner snap to my down, then back up to my eyes with a tight smile. "Well, are you coming? I know Rosie hates to be kept waiting." I snapped it shut and outreached my elbow waiting for him to link his so that we could start the traverse back to Rosie's.

• After our little group luncheon with Rosie, Alastor and you didn't verbally indicate that you were closer in any sense. But physically you swayed like two tree's. Brushing branches back and fourth with the breeze, restless and apart yet labeled as "together"

• You started doing weekly business deals, him acquiring land and souls for you, and all he asked in returns is he uses that land and those souls as he pleases. Which honestly isn't a lot. When he pulls people or their shadows to come help at the hotel- their mostly your people but he always sends them back to whence they came.

• He likes to pretend he doesn't necessarily care for being around you, however he's always looking for time you two can be together, or even thinking of each other. On his radio show he'll mention new shopping, eating, entertainment locations on your turf. He knows you listen when your able to. Sometimes he uses his power to let his station be the only one playing where ever you are. In the car, in a shopping store, you could be sitting in the bathroom and it would get to the point where you can hear it from the vents. Making you roll your eyes and finish your business so you could get to your office to listen to the radio.

• Truth be told... you where falling to his whims as well. Alastor didn't necessarily have "territory" but many places in one area he had influence in and quite often frequented. When you had rips or damage to your very expensive very delicacy clothing you would walk with him to the seamstress, and afterwards you would often get tea or lunch together. Maybe he knows a good diner or two and ya’ll will sit there and eat, then get a milkshake (mostly bc you wanted one, he just indulges to make you happy though he doesn’t care for the cold sweet taste) and drink it through two straws, awwwwwwwwwwwwe!!

• When either of you knew of prestigious events happening around you invite the other to be your plus one. You go shop together to find outfits for the occasion. You started attending overlord meetings together, with yourself sat on the opposite side of Rosie, sending each other glances and touches under the table whenever Rosie wasn't looking or walked away for a brief moment. At the events you stay close together and often stand away from the crowd, whispering and gossiping together, allowing yourself a to drink silly, little do you know how well he can hold his liquor and often will be the one making sure YOU get home. Sometimes you wake up still dressed, like the gentleman he is, and sometimes you’ll wake up in some red pajama set…. Like the gentleman he is, he’s not gonna let you sleep in an uncomfortable outfit. But he’s respectful about it.

• He often send subliminal messages through your radio to help you fall asleep, to push you to coming to see him, to maybe just stay in your town if he knew something really bad was going on outside. His favorite to do is when your falling asleep he’ll play the calmest songs from his time to comfort you as you drift off.

• When he officially asked to court you he compared you to the beautiful crimson of the sky, saying your cheeks where more bright and delightful to gaze at then the morning sky, when it was particularly bright. All kinds of poetic gestures, sending crows to your windows, sending your gifts of bodies with knives in them, and the knives had small notes left for you on some quote from a book you like. Now how he knows those are your favorite books are beyond you…. you don’t talk about your books much but, maybe he’s seen you reading it at some random point in time? Who knows, not you.

• He’s all in all not a bad partner, of course when you want to go out he usually goes along with what you want to do but if there’s something he refuses to do, his claws are sinking into your arms to keep you from dragging him to do it.

• His smile is genuine around you and you adore when he lets you pet his ears~ he’s not that intimate early on in the relationship but when your just sitting on a couch or watching the sun set from somewhere and you just reach over and pet his ears, he is putty in your hands, physically he keeps his compose fairly well but inside he’s willing to do anything to keep you touching his ears, telling himself he would sell YOU his soul if it meant you wouldn’t stop, petting his ears and helping him groom his antlers, don’t even get me started on the tail… oh wait he’s already got something going on with that… well darn… hopefully you will keep accepting his caring actions rather than push them away.

——-STOP reading here if you don’t want to get into the more “story line” of this idea, if you want more of a story KEEP READING——-

• One night some sinner had gotten into your liquor stash and drank himself ditzy, you chased him into an ally way, looking to end his fucking life. Most of those where gifts from clients that most likely had aphrodisiacs and at the time where trying to get down your pants, but he drank from one of the few special bottles Alastor had gifted you and you went ballistic. You ended up catching him and killing him, and taking a tip from Rosie and ripped some of his limbs off, letting yourself indulge in the taste of warm, liquor filled blood. When you came too you realized you didn't know where you had chased him. Now covered in blood, liquor, rain, mud and whatever mess you stepped in on your way over. Seeing the iluminating lights of the sign for the Hazbin Hotel, your only thought was to try and get to Alastor.

*knock knock knock*

*creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek*

"Oh! Oh my gosh, hi! Come in Come in. " An ecstatic girl ushered you inside, making a towel appear seemingly out of nowhere and helping you dry off. "I'm Charlie, whats your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me" I respond trying to shake off my chills, my nose starts to get a bit runny. "Uhm I'm Y/N, I don't mean to sound intrusive- uh is Alastor here?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to just barge in but after the night I've had I wasn't in too much of a mood for pleasantries.

"Oh yes! Here, why don't you sit at the bar, have some tea or water or something and I'll run up to his radio tower." She sat me down at a bar stool and walked away. The bartender was turned around already whipping me up something.

"So he's got you wrapped up here huh?" I inquired with a smirk, resting my hands under my chin and trying to keep a little composure. His wings ruffled a little bit before he reached for my favorite hell made brand of brandy, my cotten candy brandy, I'm not one for sweets but I love the zing it gives you. The kind where you loose your vision for a good 7 seconds.

"You haven't usually been one to be a stranger, what gives?" Husk asked turning around handing me my drink and a bowl of pretzels.

"Well when I saw you weren't at your usual gambling tables I didn't think to question it, thought you where maybe getting more chips... ooooor hooking up in the chip room.... ooooor selling even MORE of your soul, if that's even possible, maybe like your wings or your feathers or, like your body as a human shield in the next extermination, never thought you'd be here slinging drinks." I shrugged swirling my drinks around the glass before taking a sip.

Before he could respond he took a bit of a step back and growled really low and deep in his throat.

"Ah yes well he owed me a favor and since I took an investment in this hotel I needed a little work on it done." Alastor came up behind me with a warm towel wrapping it around my shoulders as the one Charlie gave me was wrapped around my waist keeping my legs warm... unfortunatly the sinner got caught at a bad time, I was in the middle of 'me time' before bed and was in my good silk nighty. Glad I walked to my office with my fuzzy robe and ballet slippers. I feel really warm and fuzzy, my heads all….. comfy now… is that static coming from Alast-

"Oh deerest your all wet, would you like to come up and I can help you clean up." He asked you shaking the towel on your shoulders helping you sit up. "Oh yes please" you responded looking at him with sad tired eyes.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

I took a sip of the warm tea Alastor had made me and laid back in the bath, taking it all in. I WAS just planning a quiet evening in at home, maybe snack on some treats I got in the Gluttony ring, watch some hells soap operas. Now I’m here, in my beau’s bathroom, relaxing… maybe I can convince him to let me up to his radio tower to listen to his late night show live, oh that would be fun. I wonder what it looks like up there? I’ve only ever seen his actual town house… a little ways away from town-

*CRASH *

“What the fuck?!” I sat up so fast I almost slipped, sitting on my butt… in the tub…. Shit did he spike my tea?

“Alastor? Is everything okay?” I asked loudly. Standing up carefully keeping three points of contact with the tub and the floor. I reached for a different robe he had given me, a soft red fluffy one, with (what I hope is faux ) fur along the collar and wrists.

Walking towards the bathroom door very carefully I cautiously reached for the shiny silver handle. Telling myself it’s okay but feeling a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach, and the handle was the top of the pit…

“Alastor?” I called out again, once more not getting an answer, bringing my hands to my mouth when I heard a large thump out there, trying to keeping my composure… oh what the hell they know I’m here already. I went to turn the handle what the door got pushed in, had I been able to see what happened I would’ve seen Alastor in his demonic form and it probably would’ve scared the actual shit outta me… but NOPE

I went to open the door when it got pushed open and a bright blue flash covered all of my vision and made me feel… kinda tried… but I’m awake, almost like I’m not in my body… it’s… really hard……. To keep my….. keep my eyes …………………………….………open…….

• You collapsed to the floor slowly breathing, in a trance, feeling some sharper claws pick you up bridal style, if you weren’t so dazed out you would see Alastor frozen in time… like a paused TV… unable to get to you, or subdue your captor. You still had enough conscience to hear a muffled voice talking to a phone~

“Yeah we got her… foil chains worke—“

“Get her ba-“

“…. Longer you take the quicker……….. flasher wears-“

• Last thing you could remember hearing before completing falling out was a radio scramble in your brain, the sound going from a hollow scraggly to a tight scraggle- like turning the tv in between stations………

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

AN: WELLLLL WHAT DID YA THINK???? Did you skip to down here or did you read the WHOLE thing. I really hope ya’ll like this, I’m so excited to make part 2, and maybe 3 or 4 depending on how far this goes.

Thank you to anyone who reads this and interacts in any way shape or form!!! Even if it’s just reading :) HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY AND REMEMBER

REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM BUY GOLD BYYYYYYEEEEEE

#headcannons #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel oneshots #short story #part 2?

[megamindsecretlair]

Cold on Me, Part 1

Pairing: David Kane x Atlantean!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Plot with smut, cursing, fingering (female receiving) , orgasm denial, dirty talk, Atlantean reader. Established relationship.

Summary: On a mission to recover an artifact sacred to your people, you journey through Rome to meet up with your contact. When he tries to take more than what's offered, none other than David Kane comes to your rescue. The man you hate. The man you would have done anything for. The man you can never trust again.

Word Count: 4,120k

A/N: WHEW! If ya'll only knew the heart palpitations it took to get a proper David Kane fic going! I like the final product. Please let me know if you would like to opt out of David Kane fics! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @harmshake @ciaqui @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @papichulojustice

This was your last chance. 

The contact said to meet him at some rundown bar on the edge of town, just off the coast of Rome. You walked down the dimly lit, cobblestone street with your boots making soft sounds. The weather was frightfully cold, a bitter wind kissing your cheeks where the oversized jacket didn’t cover you.

Rome was a pretty city, if a little rundown. Like you could picture its former glory in the streets, the buildings, and the gargoyles casting down their eyes from the rooftops. At any moment, a sculptor could chip away at the history, grime, and graffiti and then a legionary would walk down the street once more in their scarlet guard uniforms.

It had been a long time since you visited Rome last. Too bad you didn’t have time to explore like you wanted. You finally got a lead on an ancient artifact belonging to your people. You bared your teeth, already getting worked up at the thought of these senseless humans playing with things they knew nothing about.

You had to remind yourself that they were still such children. With finite lives. Most were trying. Most were decent. But they made you so fucking weary every time you traveled to the surfact world. 

You looked up at the street name on the side of the building and turned down an even darker alleyway. You hoped that these people got the sense to install more lights in the alleys. This couldn’t be safe for anyone walking alone at night, holy city or no.

Rumbling laughter echoed down the alleyway as you approached the bar. You took off your gloves and headed inside, pushing past sneering looks and stale beer breath. You knew that you would stand out, but desperate times were pressing on you now. 

The contact, Dom, stated that he would be sitting in a booth. You walked further into the place, boots crunching on discarded cigarettes and…something you didn’t want to think about. The walls were covered in posters that looked baked into the deep red paint, peeling vinyl seats, scratched bartop, and neon signs behind the burly bartender who stood leaning a hip against the countertop talking to a patron. 

This was the type of place that no one looked too closely at one another. No one looked anyone in the eye too long unless they wanted to be punched in the throat. This was a bar where deals went down in whispered confidences, beer spilled over the rim of mugs, and whiskey shot back among rivals. It was a neutral bar. No fighting. Allegedly.

You bypassed rough looking men with leather jackets, tattoos, and bald heads. You passed rougher looking women with short hair, short sleeves, and even shorter attitudes. You pulled out your phone, glancing at the time.

You were on time, but where was Dom? You texted him, taking off your sling bag, and sliding into an available booth. The seat cracked under you, vinyl digging past your cargo pants. But you ignored it and slid in further. 

Dom stated that he would be there in five minutes, so you relaxed and took in your surroundings. You were drawing a lot of stares. From the complexion of your skin, to the audacity of your hair, you knew that you did not fit in with the olive-toned people native to this country. That was okay. 

Once you had the artifact, you could return it to its rightful place. That was all you wanted. All you longed for. 

A young waitress walked by with black lipstick and a half-shaved head. She popped gum in her mouth and asked what you wanted. You told her your favorite drink and she disappeared, leaving you to your own devices.

You were on edge. You knew you were because this was an important exchange but you couldn’t help feeling a sense of foreboding. That tonight, everything was going to change. You didn’t know how but you’d always had a sense about these things. 

You felt every tick of the clock on the far wall. Right when the waitress returned with your drink, a short white man with short dark hair slid into the booth in front of you. He huffed, settling into the seat as if he had been walking or jogging and now he finally had a chance to rest. 

“You have the time?” The man asked. 

“No one carries watches anymore,” you said, confirming that this guy was who he said he was. He smiled, getting more comfortable. 

“Do you have it?” You asked.

“Depends. Got my money?” He asked.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. You were offended that you even had to go through all of this. But the goddess requested that this was an undercover mission. That you limit your exposure as much as possible. You ran your tongue over your teeth and smiled.

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” you said. You didn’t want to seem too eager. Or too interested in the knife in his possession. He thought it was some stupid tribal knife, made of some “funny metal”. You downplayed its importance by emphasizing the metal, letting him know that it was valuable but not as valuable as he was thinking. You were a collector of ancient weaponry, nothing more. 

He could try to melt the thing or sell it somewhere else, but no one else had access to the priceless gems in your pocket. You’d make him richer than the sun itself if it meant that you got your hands on it before anyone else did. 

You drew a pouch out of your pocket, grabbing a diamond from within and placing it on the table. He snatched it up, cupping it in his hands and looking at it. He would need an actual piece of glass to determine the clarity, but he didn’t need it. The diamond was pure, uncut, and best of all, conflict free. 

Dom nodded, but you saw how big his eyes got looking at the diamond. His only language was greed. He fished around in his pocket before pulling the knife out, wrapped in a dark cloth. He untied it, revealing the weapon hilt first.

You fought like hell to school your expression. So that the hunger in his eyes didn’t reflect back in yours. It looked ordinary, carved with ancient symbols that didn’t mean anything to him but everything to you. It depicted a death ritual, once believed to be lost over time. As more and more humans encroached on the ocean, traveling further and deeper than ever before, they constantly ran across things that did not belong to them. Recovering those artifacts was your life’s mission. 

You reached out a hand to grab it, but his hand slammed on top of yours. “I want payment first,” he said. 

“How do I know this is the real thing?” You asked. It could be a replica. It could be sand that would crumble in your fingers. You’d be the laughing stock of all of Atlantis if you dared bring back a fake. 

Dom grinned, showing yellow, crooked teeth and you bit your tongue to keep from grimacing. “I wouldn’t do that to such a pretty girl such as yourself,” he said. His hand began to stroke yours and you snatched it back.

Dom laughed, grabbing your drink and downing it in one go. Let him have it. If this was the genuine article, you could return to the water where you belonged. 

“Once I confirm its authenticity, you��ll get the rest of your payment like we agreed. Not a shiny gem before it,” you said.

He clicked his teeth, eyeing you. But finally relented and moved his hand. You reached out and ran your hand over the knife, feeling the rhythm of the metal singing to you. It was real. It was true. 

You nodded, tossing him the packet of diamonds. He snatched it from the air like he couldn’t bear a second that it wasn’t in his possession. You stood up, ready to be done with the place. You tucked the knife into your backpack, zipped it up and threw it around your head, securing it to your body.

Dom grabbed you by the wrist. “What’s the rush, huh? We just made a deal. We should celebrate!” He yelled, loud enough to be heard over the booming rock music. You glanced around, nervous that he was drawing too much attention. 

He had glassy eyes and a too easy grin. He would be decent looking if he lost some of the puffiness, brushed his teeth, and took a shower or twelve. But you had absolutely no interest. You yanked your arm back, but he held on.

“I said sit. And tell me why this knife is so important. You outbid some very powerful people,” he said. He was no longer smiling. No longer joking. 

You balled your first, jerking your hand back. But he held on with a strength he shouldn’t possess. You were stronger than humans, capable of breaking their necks with a flick of a wrist. The goddess demanded that you work quietly however. So you were left to play human. 

“Remove your hand, now,” you said. 

“If people come after me over this, I will point them right to you,” he said.

“Is that a threat?” You asked. 

“Friendly heads up,” he said.

“Let the lady go,” a deep, soothing voice said behind you. You closed your eyes and cursed under your breath. He was the last person you expected to be here. But you should have known. If there was an artifact out there to steal, David Kane was the first on the scene to see how much he could sell it for. 

“I don’t need your help,” you tossed over your shoulder. You were always blown away by how tall he was. How he didn’t have to do anything to be intimidating. One scowl, one flex of his jaw, one roll of his shoulders and it was obvious that he was a man that no one wanted to fuck with.

Skin like bruised bronze, wide shoulders, and a chiseled face, David Kane was a walking red flag. He stepped closer to your back, bringing with him a wall of heat that brought up too many memories and none of them good. 

“You look like you’re doing real well without me,” he said. 

“I am, thanks for noticing,” you whispered. You turned back to the contact and looked down at his slimy hand on yours. Why the hell was it wet? Did you even want to know at this point? Maybe if he perspired enough, you’d be able to slip your hand out from his grasp.

“Who the hell is this? Your muscle?” The man snorted. “Your boyfriend?” 

“The lady told you to let her go. So do it,” David said. His voice made your thighs tingle. You took a deep breath. Years. It had been years and he still made you have a visceral reaction to him. Like you were back in Greece, back in his arms. 

You shook the thought from your head and stepped closer to Dom. He smiled, like you were choosing him over David. As if. You flipped your wrist, breaking his hold. You grabbed onto his middle finger, breaking it. Dom screamed and David pushed forward, holding his hand to the man’s mouth.

“Next time a woman tells you not to touch her, listen.” You walked away, throwing your hood back up on your head. You needed to get out of there, fast. You pushed through the entrance before anyone could mention that you broke the rules. You harmed someone while inside the bar. Never mind that Dom started it. You were the outlier. The outsider. You were the one that did not belong. 

They let you pass, faces twisted like they smelled something funky or stepped in gum. You ignored them. Quiet. Quiet. You were going for quiet. 

Out into the crisp night, you headed off down the cobblestone street, dipping down alleyway after alleyway hoping to fend off any type of pursuit. Your steps were the only sound in the quiet night. Like the city was sleeping despite the bars and eateries behind every bend, filled to the brim with locals and tourists trying the latest cuisine. 

The streets were so narrow here and though your bike could have made it through, you did not want to draw that much attention to yourself. You took the long way around, checking over your shoulder every so often. There was no way to track you in this place, no way to leave behind any mark that you existed. 

Still, you cast your eyes behind you, clouds of breath escaping you. Your lungs burned from the cold. Your cheeks stung from the bite. These shoes were killing you. You longed for the safety of the water. 

You stepped around a building, the same pinkish hue that all the buildings seemed to share. Sunbaked and centuries old. You caught your breath. You couldn’t live like this. You weren’t used to looking over your shoulder like this. 

You had to keep moving. You had to make sure that you made it to the nearest open body of water before David caught up with you. Why was he even here? What the hell did he want? 

Fuck him. Fuck him for still looking as good as he did. Sounding as good as he did. Whatever he did now was of no consequence to you. You took deep breaths in, letting the cold awaken your senses. Your mission was not yet over and you needed to keep moving.

Goddess protect me. 

You rounded the corner, back to civilization with its street lamps and passing cars. You were approaching the mouth of the alley when a hand pulled you back, deep within the shadows. You kicked out your leg. Despite his height and size, David was incredibly agile. 

He chuckled, pulling you close to his body. His warm, tall body. He wrapped his arms around you, but before he could lock you in, you broke his hold. You turned and punched and kicked at him, he laughed and dodged like this was a sparring game and not you fighting for your life.

You managed to land a solid punch, feeling great satisfaction from watching his head snap back. Your moment of triumph was short lived as he took the fight more seriously. But he was more focused on subduing you than fighting you.

“I deserved that, but you only get one,” he growled. 

He blocked your next two punches, grabbing both of your wrists and spinning you to face the building. He pushed you against it, yanking your arms behind you. You growled and wriggled, but there was no way to break out of this. Not when he pressed his chest into your back, pinning your further against the building. You were trapped. With your worst enemy. 

Wait till your team back home hears about this one. In fact…they didn’t need to know this part. You’d never told anyone about David, too afraid that your sisters would tease and mock you. The fish who fell in love with a bird. It was a joke. A cautionary tale. A tragedy. 

You stopped fighting. Your gasps created tiny clouds in the air. David huffed and heaved behind you, pressing his chest into your back with every inhale. “You gonna punch me again if I let you go?” He asked.

“Depends. Let me go and we’ll see,” you said.

He laughed, dropping his head to your ear. You hated that you shivered. You hoped he thought it was because of the cold and not because of his proximity. Bastard. Fuck him.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said. 

“I was counting on that, actually.” Out of the seven seas and the seven continents, you did not think you’d bump into David Kane again. What were the odds? What sick, cruel fate brought you back into David’s war path? 

Didn’t matter. You needed to escape before he found the knife in your bag. 

“You didn’t miss me? Not even a little?” He nuzzled your ear and you bit your lip. What game was he playing? 

“Not even a little,” you said. Your voice was even. Your stomach was doing backflips. Fuck him. Fuck him. You repeated it like a mantra in your head, trying to hold on to the burning hatred in your veins. Your body betrayed you. Remembering every glide of his fingers. The shape of his lips. 

“Shame. I missed you,” he said. His lips tickled your ear and you moved your head away. Since his body covered every inch of you, there was no room for you to move. He dipped his head again, lightly brushing his lips along your neck.

“Fuck do you want from me, Kane?” You asked.

“Oh, it’s Kane again?” He asked. 

You rolled your neck. Getting angry only made him act more childish. He got off on seeing you squirm. You used to think it was charming. Now it was just annoying.

“What are you doing in Rome?” He asked.

“I could ask the same question,” you said.

“Following up on a lead. Heard there were some coins from Ancient Egypt on the market. Wanted to see if I could make a direct offer,” he said.

“By stealing it.” 

“If it came to that,” he said and huffed out a laugh. At least he was more open about his thievery. He was a man without honor and you had no patience for him. Not anymore. 

“What do you want?” You asked. 

David moved his hands, lower, searching your body. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“Trying to see if you got any weapons on you. I just wanna talk without the fear of you shooting me,” he said. His search was anything but friendly. He groped. He kneaded. He gripped your thighs with his massive hands and squeezed. A small moan escaped you before you could call it back. 

“Do you remember Miami?” He asked. 

You pressed your lips together while he finished his search. When you stopped giving him the response he wanted, he moved his fingers below your shirt. His fingers grazed your tummy, dancing over the edge of your pants. You shivered. 

Your pussy ached. It was freezing cold outside, but he was doing a damn good job blocking out the chill and warming you up. You melted into him as he unbuttoned your pants. “I remember how you looked when we first woke up. Sun hitting your back. The way your hair sparkled like embers of a fire.” 

You sighed. You shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be entertaining this. “David…”

“You were the last thing I expected to find here tonight. But as soon as I recognized you, I couldn’t let you get away. I shouldn’t have let you go then and I can’t let you go now,” he said.

“You can’t hold onto me anymore,” you said. He once compared your relationship to holding water in the cup of his hand. He could hold it, for a second, believing that it would last. Then it would slip through his fingers. Water could not be contained, he told you. He told you a lot of things. A lot of useless shit. 

“Let me try, please,” he said. He unzipped your pants, pushing it lower off of your hips. You ground your ass into his crotch. His dick strained against his pants. He hissed, pulling back for a moment. 

“Say you don’t miss me and I’ll let you go,” he said.

“I don’t miss you,” you said. Your voice cracked. David’s long fingers played with the curls at the core of you. He bit your ear, dipping a finger into your wet heat and groaning as he made contact. 

“This pussy say otherwise,” he whispered in your ear. 

You were burning up inside your coat. Your head fell back against his chest, giving him better access to nibble and kiss on your neck. You opened your heavy eyelids and looked at him, bracketed by the stars above.

This would be hot at any other moment. You would have lived for stolen moments like this when you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other like a couple of young adults, fumbling and following after each other. Like you couldn’t quit each other. 

“You didn’t ask my pussy, you asked me.” 

“How long has it been? Have you been able to replace me yet?” He asked.

You huffed, refusing to allow him a full laugh. Fuck him. He knew fuck well that no one compared to him. No one compared to how he made you feel. You dropped your head forward. You couldn’t look at him and let him play with your body like no time had passed. If you didn’t look at him, you could pretend. 

“Yup. Sure did,” you said. The answer was sarcastic as hell. You didn’t care if his ego was inflated at the moment. It had been forever. And you needed the sweet fucking relief that didn’t come from your fingers for once. 

He swirled his fingers lazily through your essence, taking his time to make you tremble with need. 

“A lot has changed. I’ve changed. And I know you don’t forgive easily. But I need you to hear me,” he said. He pushed a finger inside and you groaned, not caring if he heard you now. You weren’t going to fall onto the sword of Pride like some martyr. You never denied yourself anything, least of all his deft fingers as he pumped them inside of you. 

Your thighs shook as you began to squirm. He moved his other hand up your shirt to cup your breast in his hand. He squeezed it, quickly finding your nipple and rubbing it between his fingers. You hissed, squeezing your legs against his hand to trap him there. 

You braced yourself against the building, the pads of your fingers seeking any kind of fissures to hold on to. Your nails scraped. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. His pace was steady but strong, driving you to the height of pleasure. 

David groaned behind you. He grinded into you, pushing your hips forward. Making you ride his fingers instead of sitting back and letting him do all the work. He mimicked stroking and moved against your hips with enough force that you could imagine it was his dick fucking you and not his fingers.

Fuck, you were so close. You began to whine, needing him to go faster. Go deeper. Do something.

“Fuckin’ missed this,” he groaned in your ear. 

You did too. 

You leaned up on your tip toes, tensing up and getting ready to cum. David slowed his fingers, pulling them out altogether. At the same moment, your sling bag was unbuckled from around your chest and the heat of David’s body was gone. 

“Motherfucker!” You screamed into the dark alleyway. There was no point following him. He was quicker to move around than you were. More adept at the surface world. He held maps in his head that you still needed help with. You relied too heavily on those stupid phones than your own sense of direction.

You punched the building and leaned your forehead against it. Of course he hadn’t changed. Of course he was after the knife. Of course he would confuse you with talks of memories and Miami. Giving you flowery poetry. Of course he left you unfulfilled like he always did. 

Greedy bastard. You got played. You jumped up, pulling your pants over your thick hips and zipping it back up. You could only laugh as you walked, uncomfortably wet, towards your bike. 

You weren’t going to panic. You had patience…sometimes. You hid a tracker in the lining of the bag, turned off for the time being. If you were David, the first thing you would do would be to search for bugs. You’d replace the bag as soon as you could, but that would have to come later. When you weren’t focused on getting away, not leaving a trail.

One thing about David was that he always had an exit plan. Always an escape. Two could play that game this time around. 

You made it to your motorcycle and unhooked the helmet that you secured to the front. You placed it over your head, throwing your leg over and straddling it. You started it up, letting the engine rumble between your legs. At least something got to rumble there tonight.

Game on David Kane, game on.

There shall be more! The Secret David Kane Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret David Kane Files #David Kane x Black!reader #David Kane x Black reader #x Black reader #David Kane x Fem!reader #David Kane x Fem reader #x Fem reader #David Kane x plus size reader #David Kane fanfic #David Kane fan fic #David Kane fanfiction #David Kane fan fiction #David Kane #Aquaman #Aquaman fanfic #Aquaman fan fic #Aquaman fan fiction #Aquaman fanfiction #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfic

[zialltops]

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 47.3k words | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak | oral (f receiving) | (semi) public sex | vaginal fingering

masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist

You chance a glance over at the outlaw in the driver's seat while he scans his surroundings like he’s done this before, the rear view mirror and the road ahead never leaving his sight. “What if they catch up to us? I don’t want to get arrested, Joel!”

a/n: howdy folks! I’m pulling my head out of my ass and getting back into writing. These last few weeks have been leveling put for me and I’ve been feeling a lot better compared to how my life HAS been. These two were the perfect break even though this took my two whole months for only a few thousand words. I’ll be back sooner than last time with an update, but you’ll see me before then for another wip. Much love, hayhay 🤍

Chapter 8: What Was I Thinkin?

Three hours ago, if you asked Joel how the night would come to its end, he’d tell you he’d probably be in the cabin, laying in his cold bed, staring up at his ceiling fan, alone—with his right hand working his dick to the tune of the farmer’s daughter. In fact, three hours ago, he’d told Tommy something similar.

“Joel, man—I promise It looks fine.”

He adjusts the buttons on his shirt another time, stuck between leaving one undone and letting the opening linger down his chest. “Fine ain’t gonna cover it, Tom—ain’t no way in hell I’m walkin’ up to her lookin jus’ fine.” Tommy huffs from behind him and starts to go through the closet beside Joel while he stares at himself in the body length mirror behind the door.

“What about this one?” Tommy beams, He’s holding up a black shirt on a hanger, slight dust on the shoulders from it’s lack of use. He’s half surprised the moths haven’t gotten to it yet. Its buttons are made of iridescent pearls that snap in place, labyrinthian embroidery adorning the breast pockets. “Ain’t worn it since before the accident.” He lifts one of the sleeves in his hands, lingering on the fitted cuff.

His mind takes him back to half forgotten nights under neon lights, long neck bottles and ropers calluses on his rodeo-worn hands. To money wasted on buckle bunnies and broncs, to years taken off his life under the sharp hooves of a one ton animal—years he’ll never get back. Years he wishes he’d never taken for granted.

He was a more confident man then, not cocky—but proud of his abilities in the arena, proud enough to walk tall, speak surly. He was a master in his sport because he trained religiously, fully immersed in the idea that this was his only shot at making it. He still believes that, even now. He wishes you could have met him then, when he was that Joel—Rodeo buckles and spurs, cowboy hats and stadium lights. When he was a white straw hat and chaps, an unsullied grin with a thirst for adrenaline and belt buckles.

He holds the black cotton between his well worked fingers and longs to be that man again—if only for one night. Would you like him? A cowboy in his prime with worked muscles, before his beer belly and the softness in his chest really set in? “This one’s good,” he huffs, brushing the dust off the shoulders before unbuttoning it enough to remove it from the hanger. “Lemme help you.” His brother offers. Joel’s not naive, he knows the fear is visible atop the surface of his flushed skin, in the deepened frown lines and the shake in his hands.

Tommy is a lot of things, but once in a while he softens around his selfish edges and he bends a little, reaching out for the weeping limbs of his brother, struggling with all his might to keep himself standing up straight in the storm, a resilient and irrepressible figure to look up to. Tommy sees the way the longing shines through the perforations in his irises, the way his shoulders slump with oppressive burden—and he takes pity on the older man. “I’ll wash it real quick while you shower. It’ll be good as new, fresh outta the dryer by the time you're done.” He looks up at Joel, who’s still transfixed in the forgotten token of his former youth, of the man who he used to be. Items he’d left in storage down in Austin that Hank had so graciously shipped to Jackson.

He almost wishes he’d never gotten it all back, it was easier then—to hide from who he was when he wasn’t reminded of his past every single day, but once in a while—that reckless, spotlight chasing cowboy grasps for the surface. And tonight? Tonight is your birthday, the town dance, where you’re going to be, probably looking like something Joel doesn’t have a shot in hell with. It’s your damn birthday and he wants to ask you to dance but he’s not sure the fee quick dance lessons he got will suffice. What if he stumbles? Steps on your pretty little feet? Drops you?

“Joel—“ there's a snap in front of his face and he pulls himself out of the chaos inside of his mind. “Man, you are loosin’ it. I’ve never seen you this wound up over some girl—“ his eyes snap up to his brothers and he huffs lowly. “She ain’t just—some girl. She’s Hank and Lou’s daughter, people I think of as family. She’s smart and resourceful, sometimes a little reckless but she makes me feel like…like I’m alive for once.” Tommy sets the black shirt down and sit on the side of Joel's bed. Beside him, Joel's weight sinks onto the mattress. “M’gettin’ old, Tom. I don’t have a lot of good years left in me and I don’t know if I’ll ever have a opportunity like this again.”

Tommy takes a glance over at the distant look in his brothers eyes. “Opportunity?” Joel's eyes flick over and he sighs. He wishes Tommy had a little bit of what he had built inside of him, the innate goal of settling down, finding where he belongs and who he belongs with.

“At bein’ happy. Good memories for my restless nights.” If he fucked this up and missed his chance, he’s not sure he’ll have it in him again, if it will ever feel like this with anyone else. He thinks he’s done, thinks you’re it. He thinks he could give you forever if you’d let him.

“S’that why you’re so messed up in the head? What, do you think she’s going to shoot you down?” Tommy’s voice picks up in pitch, offense used like a weapon to get his point across and Joel appreciates the gusto. “Think I’m gonna go home alone tonight. Think it’s just gonna be me and the crickets and this damn hand again, dreamin’ bout how damn sweet she is.”

Tommy’s hand reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt and he retrieves a silver flask, offering it to his older brother who takes it with unsure fingers. “Just be yourself, man. Walk up to her like you belong there. Just need a little bit of confidence, don’t let her think you’re second guessing yourself. I don’t know her like you do—but I know that girl is more than willing when it comes to you.”

Joel takes a long swig of rot-gut whiskey, lets is sink into his bones and find the will to drag himself into the shower and wash away the saw dust lingering on his skin from the floor of the dance hall, ease some of the soreness in his knees and back from learning how to dance.

When he’s finished, there's a clean shirt and a flask laying on his bed. Joel finishes off the whiskey before he fastens the first button.

Liquid courage is the only thing that gets him to town.

He’s everywhere—everywhere. His hands burn on your thigh, on your hip where they dig in just a little too roughly when he pins you to the wall beside the back door. The second it closed behind you, there was a desperation clinging to the early spring air, perforating the slight chill until it shimmied beneath it and took life in the form of heat dripping across your exposed flesh. It was sticky and hot, sucking you in like a vortex straight to the center of what your world revolved around—Joel Miller and his touch that feels like fire.

He tastes like alcohol and tooth paste and part of you wonders if that’s what's changed about him, why he was so willing to let go of his reservations in-front of half of the town. He’s been drinking, drowning his insecurities enough to throw himself at you bravely.

Will he still be this Joel when you open your eyes in the morning? Will he regret it?

His teeth dig into your bottom lip and your brain goes fuzzy, stars forming behind your closed eyes. Insecurities can wait until tomorrow, you decide. His hips press forward ever so slightly and the outline of his cock can’t go unnoticed, not with the way it makes the fabric of your panties drag against your clit tantalizingly. Behind your closed eyes, the stars morph into crackles of fireworks, filling your senses with bright pleasure and desperate desire to chase those lights into the night.

You hike your legs higher, trying to drag him into the delicious delirium with you. The movement pulls a guttural groan out of the broad cowboy. “Joel—Joel,” you need his hands to leave brands on your skin where they’ve touched you, setting fire to your soul. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” Is he crumbling like you, throwing himself into this very moment right here? Is he as desperate as you are? Does it feel like a travesty and a triumph? The yearning you’ve endured, for the victory of finally knowing what he feels like when he kisses the breath from your lungs.

It’s more than you know how to articulate—more devastating than you anticipated and yet—it’s still not enough. It won't be enough until his heart beats in time with your own and you feel him wrapped up in your body

His teeth dig into your jaw and your body reacts before you tell it to, searching for the release only he can bring you.

“Touch me, please—please, touch me.”

And suddenly, in the time it takes to flip on a light switch, he’s gluttonous, insatiable and voracious—a wild predator set loose just to turn on its careful handler. The only thing that comes to mind, in comparison, is a pack of wolves frenzied to sink their teeth into the supple flesh of their prey.

In your case—Joel is the starved pack—and you? You are but an unsuspecting doe, practically sacrificing yourself to his uncontrollable famine.

Those thick digits, adorned with callouses earned from laborious work, hastily push aside the fabric of your dress in search of your covered center. He feels so fucking good when those digits push their way past the hem of your panties and he gasps against the shell of your ear. Like it feels just as good to him, letting the pads of his index and middle finger tease the seam of your lips before slipping between and dragging those rough digits over your hardened clit. It’s all the built up want, longing, needing that makes him feel so other-worldly, you’ll never experience something like this, the rush of relief to finally be his.

His fingers dip lower, searching for the source of all this slick adorning his knuckles, when his thumb drags idly over your already sensitive clit. Its like an electric shock straight to your sternum, arching you forward in search of anchorage to this reality altering interaction. There's a hint of alcohol swimming behind your fluttering eyelids, but his shuddering groan is sickeningly sobering. You want to say something, tell him how good he makes you feel, but the words bubble up in your chest and hang in your throat in the form of a silent sob, your mouth hanging open and your toes curling against your shoes.

“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” Where the hell has this Joel been hiding? He’s never been so vulgar, so vocal and confident in himself. His fingers tease the soft ring at your opening, smearing slick around on his fingers when he leans against your front to press his face against your heaving chest and neck. His fingers plunge in—and your body jerks against his solid form. He lets you shudder and tighten up against him while his thumb moves steadily, never coming off the peak of your nerve—locked on it with such perfected percussion that there is no jerky catch, just steady—drowning pleasure. His rough pant of breath paints your shoulder in sticky warmth and your thighs tighten around him, begging to draw him into your desperation.

“She’s just cryin’ for me, ain’t she, Honey?” His drawl sounds like sweet tea on a hot summer afternoon, like your sight set on the Austin sunset from the seat of an old saddle, driving cattle through tall grass and endless horizons.

Being touched by Joel Miller feels like coming home.

He finds a steady pace, working his fingers in and out, each drag punctuated by the ridges of his knuckles and the rough pads of his finger tips. Just faintly, you can make out the wet sound your sex makes every time he fucks his fingers into you intentionally. Its instantaneous the way heat blooms in your pelvis, knotting up in your stomach until you’re so overwhelmed, you’re trembling in his grip. “She’s so fuckin’ greedy, pretty little cunt needs to be stuffed, don’t she? G’damn, you’re quiverin’—you gonna cum f’me already?” His words are like a dirty secret, never meant to be revealed—knowing exactly what kind of storm that truth would bring. Let the rain pour down, let the thunder crack and the gusts rip the apprehension from your bones—because Joel Miller wants you and you’ve been waiting for this moment for two years.

You’ve imagined this a million times, slipped your fingers between your legs to the mere idea of this revered and dignified southern gentleman—more once you’d put a face to the elusive cowboy. No matter how deeply you lost yourself to your imagination, none of it will ever amount to the way cold brick feels against your exposed back, the way denim jeans ruffs up the insides of your smooth thighs, the way a felt Stetson bumps against your temple when his fingers curl against a spot inside of you no man has ever found, dragging the air from your lungs, robbing your vocal cords of their melody. With your eyes rolled back and your desire strung tight, you manage to string together enough sound to produce words.

“Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum! Please!”

A third, assured finger slips in right beside the other two and slam forward, sending you spiraling down that one way path towards pure ecstasy. His fingers curl again and his thumb quickens, pushing you up and up until you’re sure you’re about to melt through his finger tips, a weeping puddle at his feet. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.”

His command is your saving grace, the final twist that undoes the well wound rope holding you together. A variation of his name rips from your throat and consumes the space around you, invoking a bright euphoria that shrouds every nerve ending you possess. He doesn’t even know what he’s just subjected your body to—a life altering experience that you will never be able to recreate with another person. “S…s’the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” is the only thing your mind conjures up once you’ve come down enough to speak. He’s still holding onto you, slowly slipping his fingers out and letting you down with a satisfied chuckle.

“Wunna taste you,”

How will you handle another assault from that honed attention? How will you ever unsee that unruly tousle of curls between your thighs?

He doesn’t give you long enough to form a protest before he’s rushing you through the parking lot, a determination in his step that you’ve never seen. He’s surpassed the point of antsy when he yanks open the passenger door and finds leverage on your hips to hoist you up, then toss you down on the torn upholstery. You should say something—tell him to slow down before you pass out from the burn of his hands—but fuck you don’t want him to stop, consciousness be damned.

Instead, you watch him set his cowboy hat on the dusty dashboard, the silver trim of the band shimmering with luster in the golden street lamps. He drinks your body in visibly, relishing in every curve and inhale of breath. When his vision finds yours, they are nearly black with desire—his pupils having consumed every inch of bourbony brown. When his big hands find your thighs again, the resistance bleeds away and gives way to insurmountable, greedy hunger.

“C’mere, girl.” The hands on your thighs dig into the flesh, leaving finger shaped dimples in your sensitive skin. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.” Jesus christ.

If your friends could see you now, they’d all laugh at how easy you are, but right now—it’s just you and your cowboy—you’ll never be anything but easy for him.

His hands move with fever, hastily pushing your dress up your hips. “I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” That same ferocious want consumes you, possessing your hands to work on their own accord, helping Joel shimmy your panties down your thighs and over your heels.

You have enough time to register the way he stuffs the black lace into the front pocket of his wranglers before that head of his is forcing its way under your dress. He spreads your legs easily, pushes and pulls with his hands until his mouth seals over your clit, drenching your nervous system in blinding heat.

He’s good, so good at this. His tongue slides through your dripping folds with a tedious, monotonous rhythm. He’s licking for a taste, for his own glutinous thirst based on the way he groans and sighs against the softness of your lips. His eyes flick up at the same time your body starts to quiver, trying to adjust to so much honed desire narrowed in on you. “J-Joel, please don’t st-top.” Your eyes start to leave his in favor of rolling back in your head when your chest arches out, searching for a breath of sobering air, for something to hold onto so you don’t crumble apart. “Feels so good—you feel so good.”

His mouth closes over you and he sucks, pulling your clit against the smoothness of his tongue as he flicks it over and over, soothing the sensitive bud, while actively robbing you of any coherent train of thought. The only sounds that leave your lungs are sharp gasps and whines, fueled by the low groaning sound he’s muffling between your thighs. He releases you and your body reels, drawing in breath after breath to catch up with your racing heart.

“Wunna split this little pussy open on me,”

Oh fuck, oh fuck fuck—fuck.

You have long enough to gaze down at him, watching as he slides the flat of his tongue through your lips, over the sensitive bud, before your head is dipping back again.

“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” you heave and he pulls away completely, shocking you into a mewling, whining mess. “You got what, baby, use your words.”

Your body bares down on nothing, /wish he would just give it up already, unbuckle that belt, push down those wranglers and fuck you like you deserve. Joel grunts while he watches, letting it rumble through his whole body. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”

His whole demeanor shifts, alternating from this brazen, confident cowboy to the man suddenly lost between your thighs, sucking and slurping, licking and moaning to himself. He’s gutless, starving and desperate, he whimpers when you squeeze your thighs and cry his name, holding on tight until the flash of blue and red and the sound of a loud voice rips him from his mission.

“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”

Joel rips himself away from your body before you even have a chance to cover yourself. “Fuck-fuck,” he looks around sharply, eying the lone officer in a tan blazer with flashing lights fastened to its hard top. The sheriff has a light in their hand, leaning over the side of the blazer. You manage to pull your dress down and scoot back, trying to hide yourself from the light shining on the two of you.

Joel's gaze falls away from the officer, parked behind the truck, blocking it in. Instead, he looks forward, into the clearing in front of the parking lot, half lit by the street lamp. His jaw clicks and he looks set on whatever is going through that big brain of his. “Put a seat belt on.”

What?

Joel grabs his hat and slides across the bench seat quickly, slamming the door behind him. He makes it across you and throws himself in front of the steering wheel, finding the ignition quickly to turn the keys in the shaft.

The chevy roars to life at the same time that he slams the gear shifter into drive and plows over the parking block. Before you have a chance to register what's happening, the blue pickup is sliding through mud and grass, leaving tire tracks in the field as he cuts through it towards the highway.

“Joel, what in the—fuck!“ you shout, reaching up for the oh-shit handle, while the other hand reaches for the solid form beside you, grasping him by the bicep as he snorts nervously. “Just—calm down for a second, we’ll lose ‘em.”

Your heart races and your nerves radiate through your entire body. You’re a good kid, you’ve never ran from the cops before, never been in trouble for crying out loud. You did your best in school, tried to make your parents proud despite your small side of rebellion. And yet, here you are—trying your best to hang on while he cuts corners and runs stop signs, old alleyways and back roads through the thickets. The truck roars past speed limit signs, loosing rodeo flyers pinned to telephone poles when he slams the gears—orange papers fluttering in the settling dust.

You chance a glance over at the outlaw in the driver's seat while he scans his surroundings like he’s done this before, the rear view mirror and the road ahead never leaving his sight. “What if they catch up to us? I don’t want to get arrested, Joel!”

He snorts, taking another random left and speeding down the street. “Ain’t gonna get arrested, honey. Just trust me.”

Trust him? How could he even ask you that, like that wasn’t what this was all along. You trusted him like you trusted the sun to set and rise again, like you trusted the birds to sing and the rivers to run—you’d trusted Joel with your family’s dream and he never let you down.

Somewhere along the way, you lose the ability to fight off your grin, Joel manages to leave flashing red and blue in a cloud of dust. He cuts through a group of trees leading into a clearing and shuts off the lights. He drives by moonlight, effectively covering his tracks and making his way onto another road, leading up the mountain towards the ranch. He pulls off another dirt road that is cut out along the side of the hill, but he isn’t in as much of a hurry as he was before. He takes a last left, bringing the truck to the edge of the hillside that overlooks the entire town of jackson—from the dance hall—to the bar—to the red and blue set of lights on the south side of town, still looking for you and your cowboy.

The world grants you a few silent moments to catch your breath, before it completely robs you of tingling in your muscles, the conscious connection between the two of you. The reality of being truly alone with him is sobering, with nothing but the trees and the wildlife to offer a distraction.

Now that the air has cooled and your heart has finished pounding in your ears, you can make out the faint hum of the stereo, the FM dial lit up by the soft glow behind it. The station is still the same as it was when you were a girl, riding in your daddy’s pickup, playing old country music like it did in the days of your youth.

Now, it rings in your ears with the nerves seeping into your bones, settling into an uncomfortable dust. Right now, of all times? Anxiety has to claw up your chest and wrap around your throat while his saliva is still drying on the inside of your thighs?

Fuck, his beard is still glistening in the green-glow of the stereo.

“You’re starin’ at me.” He says almost quietly. You expected him to tease and flirt, maybe boast, but his voice waivers halfway through and you start to pick up on his slight nerve. Under all that charm and intensity is starting to give way to a much more vulnerable Joel—a man you know all too well.

“You’re just, uh—“ you swallow thickly and try to find the courage to meet his deep brown eyes. “Your beard is…wet.” When you do find his irises, his mouth picks up in a half smirk. If he’s as scared as you are right now, he’s doing a good job of hiding it. He’s giving it everything he’s got to hide it from you.

It’s been so long and you need this. Need to be touched, appreciated, worshipped.

The look in his eyes tells you that he’s eager to kneel.

“And who’s fault is that, hmm?” That sweet, sultry accent drags you in, sliding closer on the seat until you're nearly tucked into his side, leaned back against the seat while he looms over you. He’s still nervous, you can see it floating around in his dark eyes, but his jaw clicks like he’s trying to rein something in.

Silence falls upon you once more, but unbeknownst to the cicadas and the crickets, your dancing gazes say everything you need to hear. His eyes drop to your lips and yours to his. His tongue peaks out unconsciously, wetting his bottom lip ever so slightly—like he’s tasting you there.

His mouth clicks shut and it's then that you glance up. His eyes are back on yours, suddenly so much softer with a lulled arch to his eyebrows. In the depths of his eyes you find renewed hunger, fire burning in those pools of smooth chocolate. Your body relaxes, succumbs to the form of his plains of muscles adorning his body. When you tilt your head up to him in offering, you sink so deeply into those dark pools you can nearly taste the sweetness of him like velvety candy melting against your taste buds.

“Joel—“ you choke out, deciding then that if he waits a second longer you’ll suffocate.

There's things about this life that can never be stopped, inexorable phenomenons that are unavoidable. The seasons will always change. The storms will always come, lightning will always strike. The days will always end and the sun will rise again on the next.

And Joel Miller will always, always break when you say his name like that.

He falls into you with a sharp intake of breath, crashing his mouth against yours with surprising accuracy. It’s so easy to let him take over with the perfect combination of rush and savor he puts into the way he envelops you. His mouth is soft, but persistent, wrapping around your bottom lip when he sucks it between his teeth for a soft bite that makes you want to live in this moment forever.

You nearly do because you get absolutely lost in kissing him, you don’t protest when he leans you back on the bench seat, you don’t put up any sort of fight when he spreads your thighs with his wide hips. When his hands grip your knees, you know you’re completely done for.

He pulls away from your mouth and his eyes find yours in the low green glow and there, you find everything you’ve ever longed for.

“I…I think,” Joel shifts, looking down at his hands like he’s just woken up from sleep walking straight into your heart and soul. “I think I should get you home, s’gettin late.”

Late? Your poor muddled brain cannot keep up with how quickly he fades in and out of doing anything to have you, to be terrified to touch you. How quickly he slips into a starved desire to shaking in his boots.

Not for the first time, you wish you could reach right into his brain and pull out whatever it is that makes him think you don’t want those rough hands all over your bare body. He’s already had a taste of you, already kissed you—what more could be standing in his way?

“Home? Joel, we were just getting started—“ he clears his throat and sits up, trying to slide away from you but your heels dig into his tailbone and drag him back. “Started down a road we both know only leads to nothing but trouble and regret.”

What, the, fuck?

“I’m—you think this is a bad idea?”

The uncomfortable air settles back in between you and your legs around him loosen. “Think you're going to realize really quickly this ain’t what you want and this—I’ve got…too much on the line.”

He has too much on the line? What about the ranch? Your childhood home about to be lost to the bank? What about the dance hall where he’s built a new floor to make you smile? Does it all wash away with his assumed doom?

“What are you saying? This…this was a mistake? Joel I still have your fucking spit drying on my pussy and you—you regretted it already?” The realization feels like a dull blade straight to your gut, forcing it way in and twisting you from the inside out. It burns with shame and agony and you pull yourself out from under his sturdy build.

“I didn’t mean—I regret anything, fuck knows I don’t—“ no, no. You’ve given this man so much of yourself, committed so much to be thrown around and have your feelings stomped on.

“Then what the fuck does it mean, Joel! You—you made me cum while telling me you wanted to stuff my cunt but now you think this is…” you have a realization then, that maybe—just maybe, he does actually regret it. What does he think, you’d turn around and throw him out on his ass? If he truly thinks that low of you then maybe…

“This was a big fucking mistake.” You say coldly, making up your mind as you right your bunched up dress and adjust your fixed gaze on the passenger side window.

“Take me home.” It’s not a request.

It’s not an invitation, either, Joel understands as he watches you close the front door behind you later that night, settling his made up mind.

He presses his palm to his crotch twice and comes in his pants right there in the driveway, just like he knew he was going to.

And he feels like a fucking fool.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel the last of us #joel tlou #archive of our own #cowboy!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut

[kiiwiigii]

The Red-Eyed Boy pt. ii

Pt. One | Three | Outtake

Alec x Swan!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Alec was going smoothly, until Victoria's army comes for your sister.

Warnings:

Mild language

I'm a sucker for angst

Word Count: 1,798

A/N: Part 1 was originally just supposed to be a oneshot, but here I am. Enjoy! Pssst @rosedpetal and @badass-daisy-22 your wish is my command. ;)

He was laying on his bed, dressed more casually than I had ever seen him, in a simple white t-shirt and pajama bottoms, a book in hand. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the book was on ancient Greek myths, something that I was quite interested in and even planned to study in college.

His dark chocolate colored hair was splayed out across his pillow and I itched to touch it. Well, I really itched to touch all of him, but that was neither here nor there. I had a weird obsession with his hair. And his face. In particular his eyes and especially his lips. I grinned to myself, content just to watch with my being so far away.

Visions like this were rare, few and far in between.

I supposed it was kind of creepy, but in my defense I didn't really have control of these visions, especially since they happened while I was sleeping.

I could already feel the nudge of wakefulness pulling at me. I tried my best to burrow down deeper into sleep, but resistance was futile, and I found myself opening my eyes to see the ceiling of my bedroom back home in Forks, Washington.

I rolled over with a deep sigh. I would give anything to be in Volterra with Alec. Sadly I had a little bit longer to wait. Reaching for my phone I checked my messages and grinned to see a text from him.

'Missing you.'

Alec wasn't one for talking on the phone, he preferred to text, and almost always left me a good morning message to wake up to. Most days it was the highlight of my day.

I pressed the call button and he picked up before the second ring even made a sound.

"Good morning, tesoro."

"Good morning, love." I smiled, burrowing deeper into my covers.

I really just needed to hear his voice this morning.

"Y/N?"

It was Bella, her arm wrapped around my shoulders.

"Hey, sis." I gave her a hug, resting my forehead against her.

"Everything's gonna be ok."

"I know." I sighed. "Let's just get today over with. Grab that diploma and skedaddle."

Bella would definitely have to repeat high school at some point and I counted my lucky stars that I was not in her shoes in that regard. Or any other regard. My sister was a fucking danger magnet and the whole Victoria shit was just a big red neon sign that proved it.

There was a knock at the door and Bella opened it to see Alice. The vampire was bouncing on the tips of her toes already, and the gleam in her eyes scared me. Maybe if I let Bella go first then I could make my escape-

"I'd take Y/N first. She's planning on making a run for it."

Edward you twat. Where did you come from??

Edward just shot me a crooked grin as I glared at him from over my shoulder, Alice already dragging me up the stairs. With a sigh I sat on my bed like a good girl and let Alice do her thing. Thankfully I had already done my makeup, and Alice was content to give me some red lipstick for a pop of color.

"Alec will like it, promise." She gave me a wink and I swear I turned at least fifty shades of red.

"He's not even supposed to be here today. Do you know something I don't?" I eyed her skeptically, but the little bit of hope I was feeling was obvious.

She smiled at me sadly. "Sorry, Y/N. But speaking of lover-boy."

Alice turned to her bag and brought out a small ornate box, handing it to me with all the care in the world. From Alec?

I let my fingers curl around the box, admiring the designs carved into the dark colored wood. It was old, which was quite obvious, and while I had an inkling that it was a piece of jewelry, I was in no way prepared for when I opened the box. It was a small ruby pendant, about the size of my pinky nail, dangling from a golden chain. It had with a rough rectangular cut that rounded out a little at the bottom. I was immediately mesmerized, stroking the pendant in wonder.

It reminded me not just of blood, but of something else that I couldn't quite remember. It was then that I saw the note wedged into the top of the box. I unfolded it with shaking hands, overwhelmed and giddy.

For my Persephone. Congratulations. -A

My mouth popped open. Oh. Oh this boy was clever.

The ruby wasn't supposed to be blood, it was supposed to be a pomegranate seed. Like one of the seeds that Hades offered to Persephone. In the end, eating the pomegranate seeds forced her to return to the underworld to live half the year there with Hades. It was my favorite Greek myth, and I couldn't help but draw parallels between her story and my own. They were rather crooked parallels, but I wasn't too bothered by that.

I could feel the tears start to well up. I don't think I've ever received a gift that was so thoughtful.

"Oh hun. No. No." Alice was there beside me in a heartbeat, wiping the tears before they could fall.

"They're happy tears, Alice." I said with a small smile.

Well, not completely happy, I wished he was here of course. But I would be seeing him soon enough.

"I know. We don't wanna ruin your makeup. Let me help you put it on and we'll take a good portrait to send him, yeah?"

"Thanks, Alice. You're the best ever."

I only wished I had realized just how soon we would be seeing each other.

'I am in so much trouble.'

My anxiety, paired with the adrenaline rush, was practically so high I was pretty sure it was orbiting the moon. Jasper was by my side, doing his best to soothe not just me, but poor little Bree Tanner.

"How bad is it gonna be, Alice?" I whispered to her, wringing my hands together and bouncing on the tips of my toes. "How much trouble am I in?"

"Relax." She soothed.

"So pretty fucking bad. Do I have time to run?"

I was this close to hyperventilating.

I wasn't even supposed to be here. Bella almost had my head when she saw me on the back Jacob's wolf form, poised and ready to help. With what I wasn’t entirely sure in that moment. I had come up with the harebrained scheme to help muddle Bella's scent with my own by switching the matching jackets we had received for Christmas years ago. Emmet had made the comment a while ago that our scents were pretty similar, so I just kind of ran with the idea. It had worked so well that even Edward hadn't seemed to notice when Bella had slipped on my jacket instead of her own. It had helped split the army at least. Having two humans with similar scents had sent them all mixed signals, so it had kind of worked.

Or so I was telling myself.

So here I was, exactly in a place where I wasn't supposed to be, and the Volturi would be arriving any minute. More specifically Alec and the other elite guards from what Alice had said. None of whom I've had the pleasure of meeting yet. Including his sister. This was like… meeting your significant other's family for the first time.

Well, this was gonna be one hell of a hello.

"They're coming." Alice's panicked voice did nothing to calm me down.

Jasper put a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to help. "Try to relax, Y/N. It's not you he's going to angry with."

I simply nodded and fiddled with my necklace, the ruby seed feeling cold and smooth beneath my fingers. That helped a little as they appeared from the fog, and I found myself catching my breath when I saw Alec's silhouette emerge. He removed his hood and nearly froze when he caught sight of me. I gave him a small smile and a wave.

He let out a snarl that almost sent me hiding behind Jasper.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

"Y/N is safe." Carlisle soothed. "We never would have let anything happen to her."

"This is the second time your coven has dragged her into something dangerous." He hissed, voice low and deadly.

'Well, if we're gonna get technical about it Alec, we never would have met had it not been for that first time.'

Edward shot me a look.

What? It's not like I had said it out loud.

Wringing my hands, I stepped forward slightly before finally gathering the courage to approach him. He met me half way, gathering me into his arms. I let out a deep sigh of contentment as I buried my face in his jacket.

"I know you're angry." I whispered. "But I couldn't let something happen to Bella. They weren't even aware of what I was doing until it was too late. I'm sorry. For scaring you."

Alec said nothing for a long minute and I could feel the tension practically eating me alive.

"Alec." The red-eyed girl spoke, watching and taking us in.

Jane. His sister.

He simply nodded and left me standing there before returning to his position by her side. My heart dropped. He hadn't even bothered to say anything. I turned swiftly, blinking back tears. While I was sorry for scaring him, I refused to be sorry for my actions. Bella was my sister, and I would do what I could to help her. I stood a little behind Alice, staring at nothing and trying my best to turn off my emotions.

Jane spoke again. "Impressive. I have never seen a coven escape an assault of this magnitude intact."

"We were lucky." Carlisle answered.

"I doubt that."

I couldn't help the way my eyebrows shot up. Then I had to remind myself that this was Jane, and she had always proved exceptionally brutal in my visions. And this was no different, although it was Felix who did the dirty work this time. Bree was gone.

I didn't even blink at the end of it. I simply stood there, like a zombie when they finally disappeared. And Alec hadn't even said a word. The dam holding back the flood of tears finally broke.

'There goes my red-eyed boy.'

NEXT

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#alec volturi #alec volturi x reader #twilight #volturi #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction

[mabelstone]

hello babie

little angst fic in light of the new matt pics? gruffy stubborn horknee matt? a little christmas miracle?

love u miss u

hi sugarpie miss u more

hope this suffices <3 i couldn't think of a 'christmas miracle' i am sorry xx maybe i'll write a soft christmas fic after this

18+ ofc, you know me by now

Nobody Compares to You

matt stone x reader

word count: 2.1k

***

Being with a prolific near-billionaire with a ridiculously successful TV show and a close-to cult following has its downsides. The copious amounts of groupies, stalkers, etc, etc. Not to mention that he's the textbook definition of a workaholic, which often meant you would go days without seeing each other due to your conflicting work schedules, despite sharing the same bed each night.

You knew this going into your relationship with him and you swore you wouldn't have it any other way.

That was until you found out about the new hire at South Park Studios. A painfully beautiful, bubbly young woman around your age, funny and oh, so intelligent. To your dismay, everyone in the studio had grown very fond of her, including your beloved boyfriend. The part he failed to mention was that she was now his personal assistant, hence why she would text him at inappropriate hours and was practically glued to him each time you visited him at work on one of your days off.

You could look past the groupies and die hard fans as you knew they wouldn't ever stand a chance. But a young woman so full of life, someone who made Matt cackle the way only you and his friends could unearthed something deep inside you. An unmistakable hatred for this girl, though she hadn't done anything wrong, per se. This created a rift in your relationship with him, and though you wanted to blame her, it was painfully clear that it was your doing.

One day you'd surprised him with lunch, taking in a container of his absolute favourite meal that you'd slaved over all morning.

"Oh, thank you, gorgeous," he'd kissed you tenderly, though his words to follow suggested he wouldn't be eating it any time soon. "I wish you'd called... Belle and I just got Chinese, I'm stuffed."

Your smile faltered, peering over at the twiggy blonde tapping away at her laptop with her long, neon orange nails. "I wanted to surprise you. My mistake."

Belle looked up intermittently with an unreadable expression, "yeah, so sorry. What was your name, again?"

"Y/N," you shot her a fake smile that was about as friendly as a kick to the jaw. He mustn't talk about me often. "Ah," was all you could muster, a pang of disappointment flooding your veins.

"I'm sorry," he frowned lightly, a gentle hand taking yours. "I'll have it for dinner! You know me so well."

"So you'll be staying late again?"

"At this rate, it's a safe bet," he smiled sympathetically. He looked tired, no surprise. You sometimes selfishly wished that he'd get a bad cold or something so he'd be forced to stay home with you. "I'm really sorry."

"Meeting in five, Matt," Belle spoke up, her tone a lot friendlier than it was with you.

"I'll get out of your hair then." You didn't say bye, instead speed walked to your car, fuelled by your rage toward his assistant.

Matt: Not even going to say goodbye to me?

Matt: This isn't my fault

You: i just didn't know you were having lunch dates with your assistant

You cursed yourself straight after your message sent, realising just how ridiculous you sounded. Like a jealous teenage girl.

Matt: Lunch date? You mean having lunch with your coworker is now considered a date?

You: does she even know you have a girlfriend?

Matt: Do I really have to share my personal life with my assistant? She does, yes. What has gotten into you?

You: she gets to spend every minute of every day with you

Matt: So this is about her? Don't be so jealous, this is a work relationship.

Matt: Gotta go.

Your eyes blurred with tears as you drove home in silence, your jaw ticking in frustration. You couldn't help but wonder if you were in the wrong. Surely he would have had to pick her as his assistant, right? Why couldn't he have picked a man. Or, as awful as it sounds, a girl who wasn't so attractive. Or maybe a girl who wouldn't have graduated the same year as you.

He got home at 11pm, a bit earlier than you had anticipated. You couldn't sleep though, your mind running wild at the possibilities. With all the time spent with her and away from you, would he fall for her? Would he stop loving you? Was she planning to whisk him away from you? Was your little argument today just pushing him further into her arms?

He walked into your bedroom and didn't say a word. He walked straight into the ensuite and locked the door before you had a chance to speak, closing your mouth immediately.

When he came out, he looked visibly more relaxed, newly grown out curls dripping beads of water onto his skin. He sat in front of you on the bed, only a towel keeping him decent.

"Care to tell me what that was earlier?" His voice was stern, eyebrows slightly raised.

"You tell me," you tone was unwavering as well, arms folded across your chest.

"I wish I could," he huffed, the frustration clearly creeping back. "I can see that you're jealous. But I think theres a bit more to it, isn't there?"

"I miss you."

"Of course I miss you too. But I have to go to work. I can't control the hours!" He raised his voice slightly. Maybe there was more to this for him, too.

"We haven't had sex in two weeks, Matt," you sighed, looking toward the ceiling as that awful, sad feeling reared its ugly head again. "You used to want it- need it, every second day, at least."

"We haven't had time!" He sighed now, running a hand over his face. "I've had to... deal with it myself."

"Does your assistant have to be there for that too? Does she add it into your calendar?" You bit, meeting his eyeline again, that now had narrowed on you, angry brows knotted together.

"You are a brat, you know that?" He spat, appearing as if he were about to double over in anger.

"I'm a brat, huh?" You laughed humourlessly, shaking your head at him. "I spent all morning cooking for you. Every day I do all the cleaning after I've been working all day. I iron your clothes for the next day and have them ready for you every night before I even think to do anything for myself. Before I even have dinner!"

He just stared back, not interjecting for a change. His expression softened as he let you get it all out.

"I have done that for you for four years now! Four years! But I'm a brat, huh? All because I miss you and yes, I'm upset that you have a pretty new assistant. I'm upset that she spends all day with you, gets to have lunch and sometimes dinner with you. She gets to eat and laugh with you, all the while I come home to our house alone. I go to sleep alone and wake up alone. Do you know the things I would do to have lunch with you just once a week? The fact that I'm even explaining myself is ridiculous, I-"

Your rambling was cut short but warm lips pressing gently against yours. Your hands instantly found damp curls, fighting the urge to cry at the fact he was finally at your fingertips, and not when he was snoring beside you in the small hours. He was finally there, finally, you had his undivided attention.

His fingers quickly hooked into your panties, pulling them off in one autonomous motion. He wasted no time disconnecting your lips, positioning himself between your thighs. His warm tongue flitting over your clit sent a shockwave of electricity through your body, a sharp gasp from your lips piercing the overwhelming tension in the room. You grabbed a fistful of his hair without a second thought, grinding down onto that beautiful face. The coarseness of his beard scratched your inner thighs, sending a chill down your spine. With your eyes screwed shut, you moaned his name just as you had imagined for nights on end, his own groan vibrating against your core. You opened your eyes when you thought he'd pulled out your vibrator, soon realised it was just his phone buzzing somewhere on the bed spread. He didn't slow his motions, continuing to lick dizzying stripes across your clit. You felt around for his phone, wishing you hadn't when you saw her caller ID on the screen.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Mm, what?" His voice was muffled against you, only pulling away when you pulled your hips away. "Oh, come on. I can't control when she calls me, babe. It's probably something really important."

You realised you weren't angry at him, but absolutely livid with her. You just had a gut feeling about her. You knew girls like her, you could tell from he minute you laid eyes on here. She just wanted to climb the hierarchal ladder that was your beloved boyfriend. Unfortunately he was going to have to figure that out on his own. You couldn't help but give him the cold shoulder that night.

***

Things had slightly improved between the two of you. You'd been intimate more frequently, things often getting so steamy that one time he'd bent you over the kitchen counter, resulting in very burnt chicken for dinner.

For the sake of your own sanity, you'd stopped torturing yourself with your imagination over his beautiful assistant. He loved you, he was as faithful as they come.

Matt: I'll be home in 30 xx

He'd messaged you that two hours ago. You were worried you'd have to start calling police stations, but he finally responded to your missed calls with another text.

Matt: Long story. Talk soon.

He returned home an hour later, the door slamming behind him. You startled from where you sitting on the couch, having stress drank through half a bottle of red wine at this stage. He scooped you up from your position on the couch, eliciting a loud squeal of surprise from you, followed by the thunk of your wine glass hitting the carpet, effectively painting the rug crimson.

"Don't worry about it," he breathed against your skin. "Missed you," he trailed kisses along your jaw and neck, your breath hitching when he would hit your sweet spots.

"Mm- what happened at work? Where were you?" You grabbed his jaw in an attempt to slow him to no avail. He continued to carry you to the bedroom, physically in front of you, but mentally somewhere deep between your thighs.

"Don't worry about it," he echoed, placing you down onto the bed. You felt a little worried - he only got like this if something really stressful happened. He was usually great at talking about his feelings, especially when something happened at work.

He continued to kiss down your body, trying to strip your clothes with such haste you could barely keep up.

"Babe- stop. Stop." You huffed, finally getting a grip on his tireless wrists. "What happened? Were you with her?"

Then he came back into his body, eyes narrowing on yours. "We're seriously still on this?" He groaned, sitting back on his knees. "I fired her."

"Fired her?!" You couldn't hide the surprise in your tone, but masked the happiness very well. "Why? I thought she was a hoot, no?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," he sighed. Catching your expression, he realised you weren't going to let up until you had the full story. "Jesus- okay, she tried to make a move on me. Happy? You were right." He rolled his eyes.

Now you were beaming. You thought you'd be more upset, but his obvious disgust debunked that thought immediately. "Say that last part again."

"You were right," he rolled his eyes again, playfully this time. "Now take off your clothes."

"Yes, sir!" You laughed too, stripping off your clothes so fast, you'd miss it if you blinked. Immediately, he was on top of you, a growing hard on pressing into your thigh.

"Nobody compares to you," he mumbled against your lips, stripping his boxers without taking his eyes off you, drinking you in. "Nobody."

His words warmed you to your core, words you didn't know you needed to hear. Despite the intensity leading up to this moment, he slid himself in slowly, stretching and filling you inch by glorious inch. You arched your back into the feeling, bare chests rubbing against one another.

"I love you," you breathed, grinding gently into him, both of your hips connecting in slow synchronicity. His warm arms surrounding you, pulling you impossibly closer.

"I love you," he kissed you slowly, "so, so much."

You felt more connected than you had in weeks, months, even. And in that moment, you too though, nobody compares to you.

you know me by now. no proof reading sozzy and this ending sucks balls... but its dry out here

#matt stone #matt stone x reader #matt stone smut

[stayandot8]

Nightlyfe

Thanks for the ask 😘

Genre: Fluff, provocative without being 18+

Relationship type: meeting for the first time

Important Contents: It's a club setting so alcohol, drinking, suggestive (ass-grabbing, intense kissing)

WC: 2.8k

masterlist

Another one bites the dust.

One more man down, proving he wasn’t able to keep up with me. I wasn’t ‘high-maintenance’ per say, I just knew what I deserved and I wouldn’t put up with anything less than that. No man had come close. Well, maybe one. But he was long gone, reserved to that area of my mind that was reserved for those thoughts of him. It had been a year now, and while the pain had dulled, it was still there. The only one that could have been the one had I realized what I had sooner. But that was a conversation for another day. 

The one I had just broken up with was a goner from the start. Having issues with the way I would dress for a night out was the final straw for me; the constant back and forth of why do you feel the need to wear that out and my response of because I want to never being enough for him to just let it go. I was done with him.

The door finally closed behind him. I hoped it hit him on the way out. I was finishing getting ready, waiting for the steady stream of texts from my friends asking where I was. Ever the late arrival, I was used to it by now. 

One last look in the mirror, my miniscule top and shorts hanging just right and face sporting just the right amount of glitter, I grabbed my bag and headed down the stairs of my apartment building, my veins buzzing with the excitement of being single again and on the prowl. My sneaker-clad feet carried me along the streets of downtown straight to the agreed upon starting spot; our favorite Rave club, Nightlyfe. 

The neon sign shone brightly, a bright pink led beacon for all the lost souls wanting to find a home for the night. A place to forget the troubles that ail you, get lost in the sea of strangers, and forget the world exists. Lucky for me, it was a clear night and the breeze of the late summer fueled my desire to let it all go.

The place was packed, bodies and the smell of sweat and other substances everywhere. Glow sticks were hung all along the walls for people to take and sport throughout the night as needed to encourage the rave feel. Blocks of lights made up the dancefloor, which was directly in front of the bar. UV lights were hung everywhere there wasn’t a glow stick pile. People were dancing their troubles away, including a pack of guys, standing around in their own circle and completely oblivious to the world around them. Each of them was wearing a large glow stick necklace around their necks, seemingly to identify each other in the darkness. They seemed to be having a good time or well on their way to one since another was approaching them with a tray of shots. They all took one in one go and put the small glasses back on the tray. One of them was fake-wretching and laughing along with his buddies. 

He was cute. Had dark hair and was wearing all black; black jeans with a black t-shirt and boots with a black jean jacket to top it off. He looked out of place from his group, like he didn’t know where he was going when they first set out. He was the only one not in shorts and in one solid color. Everyone else from his circle was in bright colors that ranged the entire rainbow. 

 From what I could see in the dim lighting, his laughter seemed contagious to his group. Once he started laughing, everyone else did too, whether at him or with him, I couldn’t tell. But I knew his friends were just as attractive as he was. 

Once I finally pulled my eyes away from him, I scanned the place for my friends’ usual hangout spot at the bar. I didn’t have to look long since they were yelling at me and waving me over wildly. Their own brightly colored outfits were scandalous to anyone outside this facility but here, it was the norm. Tiny shorts that if you moved the wrong way too fast, you would be exposing a lot more than just a peek. And the tops… Well, let’s just say there was little left to the imagination. But we liked it that way. It gave us a confidence nothing else really could. 

My friends had ordered a round of something colorful and sweet and shoved it in my face before I could sit all the way down. Being the champ I was, I downed it without knowing what it was. This was the typical behavior with us.

“Sooo? What happened this time? Was he bad in bed? Did he try to take your TV like the last one?” I rolled my eyes. 

“Tried to tell me what to wear. Told me I looked like a slut and he would never be with a girl who dressed like that. So I told him not to be and kicked him out.” They all nodded as I told them what had occurred mere minutes before arrival. 

“Good riddance, I say.” Another one said. “He was holding you back anyways.”

I thought about it, all the things I had been through since getting with him. I stayed inside with him, never going anywhere because he was too lazy to get ready to go anywhere. He would lay around my apartment, eating my food and wasting my electricity and never offer to pay for anything. I was lucky if he paid for dinner. 

“Come to think of it. He wasn’t good for much anyways. He never paid for anything, he never…” I was derailed from my complaints when one of those guys from the dance floor came into view. He was leaning on the bar in between stools and smiling at the bartender, chatting him up and pointing to the different bottles. When the bartender turned to make his drinks, he cast his eyes down the bar, towards me. We locked eyes and I felt it; a rush of…something. It whispered in my ear and twisted my insides. It felt like nerves, but not quite. Go get him. 

I hopped off my stool, my friends watching me while whispering to each other ‘there she goes again’ and picking up their drinks to enjoy the show. The guy hadn’t broken eye contact with me, watching me hop off my stool and slowly letting a grin spread. He shifted towards me, facing me head on. He was the one I spotted earlier, dressed in all black and sticking out like he didn’t belong. But his ease with the people around him, the only way to tell that he was out of his element was his outfit. But all he needed to do was get a cropped tank and some shorts and he’d be right at home. I could see it on him now…

“Hey.” Such an easy word for him, complimented with the softness of his smile toward me. I couldn’t help but smile back. It felt like a crime not to. I nodded back to him, unsure but not uneasy. 

“Sir? Can I get a round of lemon drops for me and my friends down there?” I shouted over the thumping coming from the speakers and pointed down to where they all were chatting, paying no attention to me. 

“Did you want to open a tab or close out with this?” He asked, grabbing his shaker. 

“Put it on our tab, Charlie.” The guy in black said to the bartender. His Australian accent caught me off guard.

“Oh, that’s okay. It’s not necessary.” I tried to retort but he waved me off, like it was nothing. 

“It’s fine, I promise. I have a feeling it’ll come back to me.” I eyed him as ‘Charlie’ made our shots, the sound of the ice rattling around in the metal shaker pulling my attention from him for just a moment. And in that moment, he hopped off the bar stool to draw towards me and turned to the dance floor to watch. I noticed him out of the corner of my eye and swiveled to speak.

“First time here?” I asked over the music. He grinned again. 

“Is it that obvious?” His eyes sparkled when he smiled. I felt the corners of my lips turn upwards involuntarily. 

“Yeah, your outfit gives you away.”

“No one told me I would be coming to this kind of place.”

“Like walking into a box of highlighters, right?” He laughed out loud. 

“I said the same thing to my friend over there.” He pointed to his small group of friends at a table on the other side of the dance floor. “This would have been the perfect place to wear my new wardrobe.”

“New wardrobe?”

“Yeah, my friends tease me all the time that I wear too much black. They want me to wear more colors and this would’ve been the perfect place to try it out.”

“So you usually wear all black?” I glanced over him one more time and noticed the small details I didn’t see before. His chain around his neck was silver, matching the one ring he wore on his pointer finger. He wore earrings to match his jacket, a sort of gunmetal gray, but they were small enough to not overpower his sharp features. For wearing all one color, it suited him well, save for his happy-go lucky charm. It was a stark contrast, but it somehow made him all the more alluring. Like you couldn’t help but wonder what made him, him. 

“I do, when I’m not out in public for work or when I’m forced to wear something else. It’s comfortable and it always goes with everything. You could say I spend a lot of time on other things so the brain power it takes is minimal. It’s…simpler, I guess.” He returned the favor, eyeing my shorts and low-cut top. His quick glance grew slower as he went back up from my feet to my eyes again. Charlie slid a tray loaded with shots towards me across the bar and nodded. 

“Enjoy your night.” The guy in black passed his card to Charlie, flashed me another smile and a wink, and hopped off his barstool. He raised his drink to me in cheers, and walked back over to his table. The music came back into my ears, being zoned in on the mysterious drink-buyer for the last several seconds. It was like coming back out from underwater, everything now coming back into view around me. 

I stood where he left me as my eyes followed him all the way back to his table. This must be how everyone felt when they met him; captivated and desperate to know more. I stared down at the tray the bartender slid my way and wondered what might happen if I went through with my most recent impulsive thought. If things started getting annoying, I told myself if he was still here, I would

Things did. By the time me and my friends were sloshed enough to drag ourselves out to the dance floor, it was the most packed it had been since I arrived. Sweaty bodies and flailing arms were everywhere we turned, the world was starting to spin the more I danced combined with the shots that were being shoved down my throat by my own hands. It was like they had a mind of their own. When my brain was saying no more, you’ll be so hungover tomorrow, my hands would say Good! Do more! I would be paying for this tomorrow. 

My shoes were doing an excellent job of keeping me upright -until they weren’t. 

It was a perfect storm of people bumping into me and not caring who they writhed against that knocked me off balance. It was like falling in slow motion straight to the floor. Or, what I thought was the floor. Instead, it was the back of-

“Aussie!” I exclaimed in my haze. His smile slowly grew when he heard the nickname.

“Hey Lemon Drop! You okay there?” I giggled, stumbling into his now-open arms. His cologne immediately drew into my nose, filling my nonsensical brain with him. It made the music fade out again, zeroing in on him and him alone.

“You smell…nice…” I whispered, not meaning to say it aloud. Stupid brain.

“Thank you, I guess.” He was laughing at me now, but not cruelly. Some small, slightly more sober part of my mind was offended. “Here, let’s get you somewhere you can sit down.” He shouldered me and walked me off the dance floor, where it suddenly became easier to breathe. The air wasn’t as stuffy, and it made it easier to focus on the intoxicating smell coming from this man. I recognized the table after a moment as the one he shared with his friends all night. He tried to motion me to sit at the booth in the corner, but I shook my head, the bolder and drunker side taking over my words.

“I’m not sitting alone.” I stared at his pretty face, those lips begging to be… bitten.

“You won’t be alone, I’ll sit right here.” he pointed to a chair beside the booth. I shook my head again, standing my ground.

“If you sit first,” I pointed to where he tried to move me, “I’ll sit on your lap. That’s the only way I’ll sit.” His eyebrows shot up so fast, I thought they might fall off. I giggled some more at his surprise, but what he said and did next shut me right up.

“Okay, Lemon Drop. Have it your way.” He beamed as he sat and pulled me by the hips down to his level. Fine. After a second, I shifted so that my legs hung off the side and I was sitting sideways and facing him. I placed his arms around my waist and he clung tight as I wrapped mine around his neck and shoulders. A thought suddenly crossed my mind and I looked at him with my best attempt at a serious face. 

“Don’t let me fall.” He laughed at the sudden sincerity in my features and he stared at each of them; my nose first, moving to my lips that I had been biting, then back up to my eyes.

“I won’t.” And his grip had gotten tighter. So tight that we were now nose to nose, our breathing very close. There was no doubt that he could practically taste the liquor on my breath, but I was too intoxicated by him to care. His eyes flickered back down to my lips and his tongue quickly wet his own. I wanted to do that for him. That innermost need to be drenched in him took over, but not before the slightly sober side took over, hanging on by threads.

“Are you drunk…at all?” I whispered to his lips.

“I’d be lying if I said no, but I don’t really drink so it doesn’t take much.” He said it was equally quiet. “I shouldn’t drive but I know where I am and what I’m doing. How drunk are you?”

“Drunk enough to not care about what I’m about to say, but not so drunk that I can and will immediately stop if you say so.” He drew impossibly closer. “You’re single, yes?”

“Painfully so. I’m assuming you are too.” I nodded and he forced me to look at him, into his eyes so he could see mine clearly. “What are you about to say?”

“That if you don’t do what you’re thinking about doing right this second, I’ll-” His mouth cut me off right as I ran out of words. Everything was completely drowned out now; the music, any worry about being seen, concern for my friends and where they might be. All I could focus on was him. His lips tasted like nothing I had ever had before, soft and passionate with just the right amount of desperation for my drunken state to deem this the best moment of the night. Of the past week. Of the past month. 

His hands gripped my hips tight and shifted me once again to straddle him, never breaking contact with my lips. He moaned as he reached for my ass and gripped it. Hard, making me moan in response. He broke our kiss to grumble against my lips, “I’m dying to get out of here.” His voice had dropped significantly, making my desire burn even more so. 

“I live four blocks down the street.” I replied. He grinned, still in a lustful haze. I was sure I looked the same. 

“Let’s go.” He smacked my ass to get me temporarily off of him, but emitting a groan instead.

 “I’m Chris, by the way.”

#stray kids #bang chan #skz #chan skz #skz bang chan #chan stray kids #chan x reader #chan x you #christopher bang #stray kids chris #chan fic #chan fluff #chan smut #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #chan x y/n #bang chan x reader #chan drabbles #chan imagines #bang chan fics #bang chan fanfic #bang chan scenarios #chan scenarios #bang chan drabbles #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan smut #bang chan x female reader #bang chan boyfriend #chris stray kids

[caramelpenguin]

S3 EP6 (thoughts + theories)

I want to get all the insane predictions out so I can look back on how much I clowned.🤡

These are ideas based on the moments that were in the trailer/teasers/stills. Or things that I feel might be addressed before the end...

Hillerska closing down🏫

We aren't directly told what Felice said in her interview. It's left ambiguous. So why wouldn't they tell us? Sure, there's a chance that she just praised the school but....

we got that very small snippet of the forest ridge boys yelling at each other. Could this be because they heard that Hillerska was going to shut down?

Simon (and his family) might move away 👋

they have the money now ig. this could be a reason why the ending, as ive seen around, has occasionally been described as 'open'.

this could be the context behind the shot of Linda's head on Simon's shoulder.

or maybe the 3 of them are doing smthn related to micke?

Abdication or King Wille? And August...👑

I think one of the reasons for August's storyline this season was for us to understand him more as a character so that if he becomes King, we know that he'll actually try or that he may not have been as bad as we thought. (my opinion of August isn't necessary here).

we really see how much the monarchy consumes Wille this season. Though I don't know how we'd approach the topic of abdication in just one episode.

wille has said that one of the reasons he wants to remain Crown Prince is bcos of Erik. Knowing what we now know, i'm intrigued as to what will happen.

will they acknowledge more of August's eating disorder?

August and Sara🤔

I think felice will (eventually) be fine with it. I don't know about Simon.

Things will work out, i'm sure.

Frederika and Stella💵

....they'll kiss in ep6. something will happen between them, anyway.

Shot of the 4 girls hugging

frederika has realises she likes stella by this point??

Roussea?🐎

maybe Roussea will get a slight mention in a conversation with August. Or maybe not. Who knowwwss

Wilmon screaming in the car🚗

is this Sara's car? things need to be okay by this point, right? is it after the lake scene??

Wilmon stare down👀

how? will ? this? fit? in?

is it after the graduation ceremony but before the neon party and the lake scene? does the shot of wille (with simon's hands around his neck) come after this?

is the lake scene not the final scene? is this scene actually the next day during the graduation?

does simon tell wille he's going to move away?

The Neon Party + Lake Scene 💧

the neon party is where they reconcile.

BUT i dont think it'll be a full reconcile. Simon's line 'Can't we just forget everything that's happened? Just for tonight?' makes sense to be here.

the lake scene with the swimming could happen because they both leave the party early, i dunno.

is this the last time they're able to hang out (bcos simon is moving away and bcos Hillerska will shut down)?

but we've all SEEN that it looks sad, which doesnt look all that great for endgame, and we've also been told that this is (most likely) the final scene. so. get tissues ready.

(am i crazy or is there a tiny smile on simons face in this scene? from that edmar promo we got? )

swimming happens after the sadness right? bcos (apart from the tears) they dont look wet.

if its the final scene idk what the hopes r for wilmon endgame icl

MUSIC (+Wille's birthday present)🎶

we know that 'Alice' by Rhys will play at some point. Doesn't mean it'll be a wilmon scene. it could be sara and august OR frederika and stella (?)

normally, there's a song in ep4 that's repeated in the final moments of the season. ep 4 in s3 doesn't end with a song and (from the one check I've done), i can't really hear any of the other songs used in that episode as the final song of the season. then again, i could be wrong

ELIAS SONG?? they could play 'revolution' again to make it a full circle (dont think this will happen tho). they might use a new song. i just rlly hope we'll hear an Elias song and...i feel like we will.

THE TRAILER SONG? I really pray this will be in the episode. I pray i pray i pray i-

we'll hear Simon's new song. I don't know how or when (especially if this is simon's gift to wille) but...c'mon

initially, i didn't think Redlight would appear in YR. Omar has a career outside of the show, but i do agree that the lyrics fit wilmon quite well. also, if we're gonna hear Simon's new song then I don't know how the script would work around Simon singing another song. He told Wille that his present isn't yet finished (which im sure is the song simon is currently working on), tho ig we could argue that he may sing a brand new song.

BUT then i realised that simon doesn't have to sing this song. redlight could just be part of the soundtrack ( it seems that everyone got to that conclusion before me). and the way that it's being promoted this week has me suspicious. I don't wanna get my hopes up, and maybe Omar is just being clever and promoting it during the week of YR hype, so i dont think redlight will be in s3. BUT I WILL BE VERY HAPPY IF IM WRONG❤️

ig we'll find out when the playlist gets updated

Football Field Scene

to my knowledge, we haven't got proof that they filmed there apart from that pic from Lisa (and are we sure this pic is from s3 filming?)

it would be AMAZING if they returned to this setting. ICONIC.

but idk how why they'd return here and how it would fit

it might not be a wilmon scene (could be simon + rosh + ayub, but i think theres a higher chance of it being a wilmon scene than the trio)

question- lisa said it was a wrap with a pic from the football field. which COULD mean that the last scene they filmed was there (tho it might not be the actual final scene) - was this where edmar couldn't stop crying?

💜WILMON ENDGAME?💜

they better or im going to riot

no but srsly, i dont think we'll go down a 'la la land' route. worst comes to worst, it'll be a positive open ending e.g. 'you were amazing. you'll be wonderful. we'll meet again with more freedom.' it'll be even better if there's a time skip here hahahha

like the end of ep5 gave me no hope cos idk how they're gonna get back together in one episode. but anything is possible.

arguably, the promo we've got since then leans towards endgame (?), but i dont think they'd reveal they're gonna be endgame if there wwen't gonna be more issues.

EXTRA

theres so much to cover in the final episode!! so i dont think everything will be acknowledged/addressed. things will be left ambiguous to keep the viewers thinking.

imagine if the break up at the end of ep5 wasnt that huge. that theyre still together (with tension) at the start of ep6, then they kidna ignore their disagreement. this culminates until the end, where they break up ( but very unlikely)

the future letters were there to show august's past. but could there be more to it? could we get a time skip? (again, unlikely imo. but would be sweet if done well)

a reference to the heart simon drew? maybe? probably not...

will simon give wille his orange jumper back? id love to see this on our screens but im sure we wont.

will sara's necklace make a comeback?

where does wille's 'what if I don't want to?' line come in? and the queen's line...

the shot of wille in the library (with that book in clear sight) hasn't yet appeared, right?

simon talking to sara by micke's house....hmmm. i would love a simon and micke interaction

volleyball scene + running into the lake happen as a connection to graduation?

wille with those sunglasses is a moment with felice?

do we hear anything more abt wille's birthday wish?

EXTRA .2

there are plenty of moments that happen that we don't see as viewers. so that jumper simon wears at the start of ep 2 looks like wille's. and if it is, then we didnt see the moment simon stole it wille gave it to him.

and when simon mentioned a mental health foundation, it implied that they may have had a discussion abt wille's anxiety before.

the piano scene in ep2 could have been a piano lesson that wille was giving simon, which probably means a lot more of these happened without us knowing

this makes me wonder how much wille knows about micke??

simon told august that sara's with her dad and all that- so does wille also know?

WHEN I FIRST WATCHED AND FINISHED S1 AND S2 OF YOUNG ROYALS, i knew wilmon would be together by the end of s3. like i was 100% convinced the show would end with them happy bcos that's what it had leaned towards the entire time. the vibe of it just screamed wilmon endgame to me.

i really hope past me was right, bcos the s3 promo really had me wondering. and then ep5 had me proper questioning. but netflix (and lisa) will have to pay for so much therapy if they arent endgame sooo🤷‍♀️

livelovelaugh wilmon ig

edit: ive just listened to omar's interview and now im qquuiiitteee sure redlight wont be in ep6🤷‍♀️

edit 2: will anyone else find out that it was august who posted the video?? will this prevent him from taking the throne??

#i might add to this before ep6 and the doc releases #and if ive missed smthn pls say and ill add it heh #LIVE LOVE LAUGH WILMON #wilmon #yr s3 spoilers #yr s3 #young royals #youngroyals #predictions