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01zfan · 4 months

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delusional | j. sc

ex-bf!sungchan x fem!reader | 5k words

this was originally a request but i lost my mind somewhere along the way. i hope this is to your liking

contains: weed smoking, consensual high sex, unprotected sex, cheating, sungchan is lowkey toxic till he meets his match. basically you and ur ex are in the middle of an idgaf war.

“i can’t believe she hangs out with him now.” sungchan points from his lunch tray to you and the man you’re walking with.

sungchan would’ve never taken you for the type to date someone after him. sungchan had that thought with all of his girlfriends. eventually the girls would move on and each time sungchan would be flabbergasted. how could any of his exes ever find someone that would put up with their attitude, pay for everything, and fuck them like he did? sungchan would always be the one to end things, making girls crawl back to ask him to be on their roster. he would always oblige of course, all of his exes were gorgeous and amazing in bed. but he just was never ready for commitment.

you were different from them. when sungchan gave you the same rehearsed lines he told the girls before you, all you did was shrug your shoulders. you didn’t beg him to stay, or ask what you did wrong. you didn’t try to bargain, which is what the girls usually did first. instead you just left his dorm and never came back. sungchan waited by his phone for your desperate late night text or a sobbing voicemail. it never came. he even embarrassingly waited after one of your classes to see you disheveled, not caring about your appearance after going through such a hard breakup. but you were shining and smiling, dressed well. sungchan ignored the pang he felt in his chest when he saw how happy you looked. that pang, however was quickly replaced with anger when he saw your new boy toy trailing behind you.

“she’s always been friends with haechan.” eunseok doesn’t even have to look behind him to know who sungchan is talking about. you and your lab partner have been the topic of every conversation since he saw you two together last week. without even meaning to, sungchan found a way to incorporate you and your new boyfriend into every conversation.

“they were always in the same group, there’s a difference. now he follows her like a fucking lost puppy everywhere on campus.” sungchan sets his food to the side.

“he’s lost his appetite.” shotaro laughs and eunseok has to hide his smile behind another bite of food.

“i’m full.” sungchan said, dropping his fork on his plate. his two friends are no help in consoling him. he sees them try and hold their composure, to take him seriously. sungchan has of course brought girls over to their shared apartment. shotaro and eunseok bared witness to the steady stream of women sungchan surrounded himself with. when they’d bring them up in conversation, sungchan always had to be reminded of which girl they were talking about.

“oh the girl from biology? yeah she was crazy.” sungchan said nonchalantly, clicking through shows on netflix.

shotaro and eunseok have told sungchan multiple times that he was the problem. they even made a rule where sungchan could no longer bring over girls. the pair were confused when you started popping around the apartment in the daytime. usually sungchan had his sexcapades at night, trying to sneak his girls out in the morning before his roommates woke up. but suddenly you were there and sungchan would bring you up, not needing any reminders on who you were.

eunseok covers his mouth with his hand trying to hide his laugh.

“oh it’s real serious.” eunseok says.

shotaro joins in. sungchan looked at you and your new man. you two were coming towards his table. sungchan straightened his posture and cleared his throat. shotaro and eunseok looked behind them. when they saw you two coming towards the table they turned back to sungchan wide eyed and tight lipped, still holding back laughs.

sungchan shot them a look that said behave, but you walked by them like it was nothing. you barely spared a glance in his direction. you had a certain pride in your walk, or maybe it was a bounce brought on by not having to carry your books. haechan trailed behind you, holding your things underneath his tray. sungchan wanted to scoff at haechan–to laugh at him for becoming your errand boy. until sungchan remembers you having him the same way. he held everything of yours. sungchan would take them from your hands wordlessly, he hated seeing you carry things when his hands were free. but that was different from haechans’ situation. he did it in a chivalrous gentlemanly way. haechan did it in a pathetic and desperate way.

you sat with haechan at a table in the back corner. sungchan recognized your friends, but he couldn’t name them. maybe they were your other friends. why would you let haechan meet your friends so fast? it took you months before you let sungchan meet your friends.

“that’s tough dude.” shotaro said.

“real tough.” eunseok agreed.

although shotaro and eunseok were talking to him, sungchan wasn’t looking at them. he was too busy looking at how you were sitting next to haechan. whatever someone said made you laugh. nobody is more funny than him so why were you laughing so hard? you had your hand on haechan’s shoulder and pinched it. the same thing you used to do to him. sungchan wanted to get up and go over to your table. he was starting to feel like he didn’t even exist to you anymore. then you looked at him.

you leaned back in the chair and locked eyes with sungchan. he was expecting you to look away, the way girls would look away when he caught them staring. instead you held eye contact, your look was neutral. sungchan’s eyes widened and now he was the one compelled to look away. when you waved at him, it took less than a second for sungchan to wave back. sungchan half expected you to start crawling over to him, refusing to stand your ground any longer. but you just look at him and smirk, going back to your conversation.

“she’s got you good.” shotaro said.

“real good.” eunseok said.

sungchan gave his friends the most intense glare of his life. this had no effect on the two while they continued to eat their food. he didn’t even get to tell his friends the worst part of it all. you had made your instagram a private account and locked down your twitter. you were hiding yourself, locking your heaven away from your snooping ex. sungchan wanted the ability to still look at your face and see your thoughts, but it was no longer possible. eunseok and shotaro would just tell him he’s lucky you didn’t block him, but sungchan wondered if blocking would’ve been better for his peace of mind. soft blocking and removing him from everything was like putting you just out of reach from him. you being so close but so far away made sungchan the most desperate he’s ever felt. it was sick, but late at night he would wonder if the girls he broke up with felt the way he did.

after eunseok and shotaro were done eating, sungchan was finally able to leave. he couldn’t leave without his friends walking beside him. that would only make him look more like a loser. so now sungchan walked behind his friends, trying to seem as cool and mysterious and nonchalant as possible while he walked by your table. sungchan felt someone’s eyes on him and he hoped they were yours.

sungchan went on the rest of his day with you on his mind. he kept waiting for a follow request, a text, an email, anything. he just kept thinking about how annoying it was that you weren’t feining for his attention like all his girls before you. sungchan passed by your dormitory on his way home. he looked up the tall archaic building, staring at what he believed to be your window. he thought about the nights he would spend there when your roommate was gone.

sungchan remembered being cuddled up to you underneath your sheets. he liked when you made him be the little spoon. sungchan would always protest but he loved feeling you behind him and your arms around his large frame. he wondered if you made haechan be the little spoon too. he wondered if haechan was sleeping in your bed while you did your homework. he thought about you sleepily climbing up the ladder of your lofted bed to see him waiting for you. sungchan couldn’t stop thinking about your new man curled up next to you. he wondered if your hands drifted over haechan’s body while he felt you up. before sungchan could get a hold of his thoughts, he was opening the door to your building.

your RA didn’t even look up from her desk when sungchan came in. he went to the hallway your room was in and walked down the hallway.

sungchan used to be proud that he knew his way around this all girl dormitory. he thinks about the hushed whispers of girls sneaking him in, or reading directions off his phone. he couldn’t tell you were half those girls’ rooms were now, but he still remembered yours.

sungchan stood in front of your door. he couldn’t bring himself to knock. sungchan knew he stuck out like a sore thumb. anyone opening the door would question him, and he could get in big trouble if the RA found him wandering the halls of the all girls housing like a ghost. but sungchan didn’t care. he suddenly felt antsy, imagining you on the other side of the door. before he could knock, his phone started going off in his back pocket. maybe it was divine intervention. sungchan grabbed his phone and nearly dropped it when your photo and caller ID took up the whole screen.

he quickly looked around the dorm hallway, completely empty except for him. did he know you were here? did your RA let you know your crazy ex who is completely over you was waiting outside your door?

sungchan started tiptoeing down the hallway through a back entrance where he wouldn’t have to see the RA. he didn’t answer your ring until he was in the courtyard outside of your building.

“hello?” sungchan was out of breath. he pulled the bottom of his phone away from his mouth. he had to seem as unaffected as possible.

“were you working out or something?”

“why are you calling me?” sungchan mustered all of his strength to sound curt, but he was walking around in circles with a hand in his pocket. he kicked a rock around with a smile on his face as he heard you thinking on the other end of the line.

“i left my pipe at your place.”

“i gave it to eunseok.” sungchan says. which is partially true, he gave your glass pipe to his friend for safe keeping.

“can you bring it to me?”

sungchan wanted to tease you for reaching out to him first. he was no idiot, he knew that the pipe was just an excuse to call him.

“what’s in it for me?” sungchan asks.

“maybe i’ll let you inside my apartment so you don’t have to wait outside my door like a fucking stalker.”

sungchan hangs his phone up immediately. how’d you know he was outside your door? he thinks back to your RA, how she looked kind of familiar. realization hit sungchan like a freight train when he recognized the RA as one of your closest friends. despite his embarrassment, sungchan was ecstatic to get a semi invitation into your apartment again. so he ran the half mile to get to his apartment.

sungchan was grateful that neither of his roommates were home. he was in and out in a flash, stealing a joint from eunseok’s collection. he left a ten in the place of the joint, and a text for the pipe that he was going to run to his ex like an errand boy. this was so unlike him, to be at someone beck and call. but he couldn’t help it, not when he was thinking about being in the warmth of your apartment.

sungchan walked back into your dorm the same way he did prior, this time the RA was staring him down. he gave a wave, trying to save face. sungchan was sure they were laughing at him in whatever groupchat you had, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

when he knocked at your door, you left him waiting. when you finally opened it, your eyes went to the pipe and the joint first.

sungchan walked into your dorm. it felt like a century since he had seen your place.

“you can sit down. you look like you ran a mile.” you say, shutting and locking the door behind you.

sungchan obliges, he was tired from running around campus doing your bidding. when he sits at your desk he sees various weed paraphernalia, ranging from a vape to a bong. he sees a miniature pipe. before he can chide you for having too much stuff, you come to him with two cups of water.

“get on the bean bag instead.”

sungchan got up a little too quickly from your desk to sit on the bean bag. it was next to your seat but a lower. his long legs had to be bent so he could sit up right. he felt your shag rug underneath his feet. it was soft and he picked at it with his hand.

“is this new?” sungchan pointed at your shag while you packed the bowl.

“present.” you said simply. sungchan wanted to trace over the slight frown you had from concentration.

“it’s soft. i like it.” sungchan says.

you look up from packing the bowl and smirk.

“haechan picked out the color.”

sungchan tried his best to control his expression but he couldn’t help frustration that flashed across his face. you basked in him trying to show you he didn’t care. he was really too easy. you put the bowl into the bong and prepped yourself.

“your RA just let me walk in, you know. she should be fired.” sungchan laughed.

“you know she’s my roommate right? she saw you come in and texted me.” you say matter of factly. atleast sungchan was right thinking he knew her from somewhere.

“you ready?” sungchan held his lighter to the base of the bong, ready to ignite the bud sitting in the bowl. he wasn’t normally this chatty when smoking a girl out, but he found himself wanting to say as many words to you as possible.

with your lips to the mouthpiece you nodded, and sungchan lit the left side of the bowl. it was something random he remembered about you, how you always said the left side was the best side. you looked at sungchan and smiled. he could feel you looking at him and had to clear his throat to stop himself from smiling. he was too easy sungchan thought. maybe him and haechan weren’t so different after all.

you took the hit from the bong like a champ, breathing in the smoke till the pipe was clear. once you pulled away, you sucked in an extra puff of air, to really get it in your lungs.

“attagirl.” sungchan said softly as he watched your chest raise up, staying there for a moment. you let the air out, staring at sungchan as you did so. he looked a little different. was he wearing a different shirt than when you saw him in the dining hall?

eventually the hits started getting to you. you considered yourself lucky to be a lightweight when it came to weed. just from two bong hits and the joint you felt floaty. you looked at sungchan’s hooded and bleary eyes, wondering if yours looked the same.

“you still smoke?” you asked sungchan. he nodded, holding back a cough while he handed you the joint.

“taro and eunseok rubbed off on me. i don’t do it as much as i used too though.”

“eunseok rolls the best joints. thank him for me.” you cough after taking another hit. you were definitely high now.

“how do you know eunseok rolled this?” sungchan looked at the joint in his hand. he was pretty high already and he could tell you were too. his tolerance had been lowered since you two stopped seeing eachother. sungchan now only smoked when his two roommates did.

he held up the ashtray to you. you took in one last drag then knocked off the ash. it was half gone, but that’s more than enough for you to enjoy later. instead of answering sungchan’s question, you motioned for him to come in front of you. he obeyed you almost immediately, sitting in front of you. you bent over until your mouth was ghosting over his. focusing on his lips, you slowly pushed the smoke cloud into sungchan’s mouth. he took all of it while looking directly into your eyes. his eyes were open so wide you could see his sclera was red and bloodshot. when his hands reached up, you put your hands on his shoulders. it stopped him from reaching up to your face and pulling you in for a kiss, the thing he’d always do when you two smoked together. sungchan instead let his hands rest on your knees. when all the smoke was out of your mouth you pulled away like nothing happened.

“he put mullein in here. to help with the irritation and everything.” you handed the joint to sungchan for the final time. he put out the joint and placed it in a small plastic cylindrical container.

sungchan knew that you put your weed in the tiny wooden box that was next to him on the rug. he had seen you do it a million times before. but sungchan also knew he needed to feel you in his space while you leaned over him to get to the box. so he handed the container to you, and you entered his orbit smelling like vanilla and something else, maybe something new that you put in your hair. you linger there for a moment and he’s tempted to lean in and kiss your cheek, to pull you on top of him. sungchan has to close his eyes when you put your hand on his knee to push off of to get in a comfortable position back in your chair.

after you placed the joint in the desk, you leaned fully into your comfortable chair, feeling like you were going to become one with the cushion. you looked at sungchans’ hand, that had moved up from your knee to your thigh. thought about tracing the veins on his hand. you thought about putting your hand on his and dragging it further up your leg. you were definitely high now.

“that’s nice of him.” sungchan pretended like he remembered what the hell you guys were talking about. “should we open your window?”

“just stay right here.” you said, leaning even more into the chair. sungchan let his hand trace shapes on your thigh.

you try to think about how cruel it is of your ex to breakup with you and expect you to come crawling back. sungchan’s reputation preceded him, you had been warned about his behavior. you try to think about how he loved you and left you fast, trying to remember what you did wrong. instead all you can think about it why you stuck around for as long as you did. you try not to think about how nice it would feel to fuck him on your new shag rug.

“i’m guessing your roommate won’t be back for awhile?” sungchan has a look that sends shivers up your spine. you nod.

“haechan is coming over in like thirty minutes.” you add.

“you gonna cancel on him?” sungchan’s hand creeps higher and higher up your leg.

you get off the chair, pushing it out of the way and you sit in front of sungchan, looking him in the eye.

“no, i’m telling you that you have thirty minutes.”

almost instantly, sungchan pulls you closer to him. your hands find his chest, fisting the fabric of his tee that is keeping you from seeing his abs. you clumsily find the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up for him to get the hint.

sungchan pulls away from you to take his shirt off. it’s thrown somewhere in the room and he pushes back into you, lips finding yours quickly. usually when you guys had high sex it was different. it wouldn’t be any less intense than it was currently—with sungchan pulling your pants down and pushing your bra up to reveal your boobs—just slower. if sungchan wasn’t under a time constraint he would’ve loved to draw out your pleasure, making you cry out his name for your whole building to hear. he wanted to spend the day kissing you, leaving marks on all your body parts he hasn’t been able to see. to make you come crawling back to him, to beg him for more. but now he had to settle for a quickie before your new boyfriend came knocking at your door.

sungchan pushes you down to lay on the shag rug. your bottoms and shirt are gone, only leaving you in a sports bra that is pulled down. you see your ex do a once over of your body. you don’t know if it’s because of your high but it takes forever until sungchan touches you. it's just one finger and a light touch. he drags his finger from the valley of your breasts all the way down to your navel. you’re twitching just from this, brought on by a certain horniness only weed gives you. your gasp is depraved and desperate as sungchan spreads your legs by your thighs.

“you fucking haechan now?” sungchan asks. he looks up from you from between your legs. you want to push his head down, so he will shut up with his stupid jealousy and do what you called him here to do. you prop yourself up by your shoulders to look at him.

“if i am, it's none of your business.” you bend your knees, debating on closing your thighs around sungchan’s head.

“that’s a yes?” sungchan kisses the soft skin of your thighs. he looks you in your eyes as he sucks harshly on your skin. “there’s no way he is fucking you right.”

you let out a sigh and lean your head back.

“oh yeah?” you say, trying to egg him on. sungchan was always chatty during sex but the jealousy dripping from every sentence made you squirm.

“there’s no way he knows how you like it. or how to handle you” sungchan kisses your clit. you hate how affectionate he’s being with you, especially after breaking up with you. like he’s still your boyfriend or something. you move your hand to the back of his head and lightly push him into your heat.

“you’re wasting time.” you say lightly. sungchan looks at the digital clock next to your bed. he ducks his head into your heat, instantly getting to work. you let your body rest on the shag again. already you feel like you’re losing your mind. as much as you hated to admit it, you weren’t getting fucked the way you needed to. having sungchan in between your legs devouring you made you realize how depraved you really were. the weed in your system also made every sensation feel new and exciting. you were moaning, body lifting off the bed when sungchan started fucking you with his tongue. when he picked up your bottom half to bring even closer to him, you were done for. within five minutes, sungchan pulled from you with slick covering the bottom half of his mouth.

“such a good girl for me.” sungchan said to your lower half, leaving one final kiss. sungchan moved his body up yours. before he could give you a kiss, you flipped over, sticking your ass in the air. you decided he doesn’t get the privilege to kiss you in between moments of intimacy.

“so mean to me baby. after i just made you cum too.” sungchan fake pouted as he took off his pants. you said nothing back to him. when sungchan returned behind you, he roughly pulled you back so your ass was touching his dick. when he was high, sungchan’s intrusive thoughts always won. that’s why he started slapping your ass with his dick, fixated on how your ass jiggled with each hit.

“i haven’t fucked any girls since we broke up.” sungchan murmured. he was moving your ass around now. you were so pliant for him while simultaneously refusing to give him the validation of being your ex. he wanted you more than anything.

“you don’t have to wear a condom.”

“awww you won’t give haechan any pussy? still hung up on your ex or somethin’?” sungchan’s hands rested on your ass. he tried to sound indifferent as he teased you, but hearing that news made him undeniably happy. haechan wishes he could see you like this.

sungchan slowly spread you out one last time. he held his dick in his hand and summoned all the spit he had in his dry mouth. after a glob of spit landed on his length, he did a few quick pumps. when he slid into you, you both let out prolonged whimpers and moans. something about the way you were already clenching around him made him dig his teeth into his lip.

when he was fully inside of you, sungchan moved one hand to the small of your back to press you down. his other hand spread your thighs more so he could slot in between him. with each movement, you sucked in a little bit of air. you purposely clenched around him just to revel in the fact that he was inside of you completely. sungchan slowly pulled out just to go back in just as slow. you reached out a hand to him and he held your hand, pinning it against your back.

sungchan could barely control himself as he looked at you in your current state. your walls fluttering around his dick while you had a vice grip on your rug. he thought about how you had such a pretty backside while he ran his hand down your spine. sungchan wanted to say he missed this view, that he missed you. instead he gave your ass a light smack.

“still as big as you remember?” sungchan smirked. you clenched around him again. he was obsessed with teasing you in bed. you always would react to whatever he’d say and he loved the fact that you had a mouth on you too.

“i’ve had bigger.” you say, biting your lip to hold back a moan. sungchan gives you another slap.

“i think she disagrees.” he says while picking up his speed. “i can barely move she’s holding me so tight.”

sungchan looked at the clock again. he had about ten minutes. it was strange how time passed when he was having fun. he wanted to get lost in you, but he had to focus on making you feel as much as he could in the next ten minutes. he moved a hand down to your clit. he rubbed slow circles. he laughed because it was hard to multitask, the weed making his brain fuzzy.

“what’s so funny?” you moaned. you tried to sound rude but the spot that sungchan was hitting made you fold. before you knew it you were rocking your hips back into him, whimpers falling from your lips.

“just wanna make you feel good, baby. i can tell you haven’t done this in awhile.” sungchan said. he was starting to get lost in the feeling of you too.

“thank you.” you moaned. you had no control over what you were saying and thinking anymore. the slapping of skin and moans filled the room and the view of sungchan fucking you filled your mind.

“such a sweetheart.” sungchan intertwined your fingers with his.

he gripped your hand tightly, increasing his speed. you were at his mercy, other hand searching for something to stabilize your body. you tightened your grip on his hand. sungchan leaned over, pushing you down to a position that had him hitting deeper than before. you turned to jelly underneath him, moaning louder than before. he brought a hand over your mouth while he brought his lips to your ear.

“you hear that?” sungchan said, biting your earlobe. you didn’t have to listen hard to hear the squelching. the lewd wet sound filled your ears. “she’s saying she misses me.” sungchan smiled against your ear. him talking to you like that had you seeing stars, whole body on fire.

“i’m gonna cum.” you say, muffled behind his hand. sungchan understood you perfectly, cooing to you while he picked up the pace of his hips and fingers.

you came undone while sungchan sucked on your neck. he continued his ministration on your clit as you said his name in broken cries. sungchan came shortly after you clenched around him. his thrusts went from hard and slow, trying to give his all to you. he continued to thrust even after you were both done with your high, enjoying the overstimulation. when he was done he didn’t pull out, but instead collapsed on top of you.

you let him stay like that. it felt nice being surrounded by sungchan again. his body was sweaty and warm against yours, and his arms wrapped around you made you feel secure. even though you could feel yourself getting crushed, you reveled in it. this would be the last time in your life you’d ever see sungchan so you let him stay like that, even after hearing knocks on your door.

#requestz #01zfan: sungchan #sungchan smut #riize smut

600 notes · View notes

pedgito · 5 months

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𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter One: Decisions

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

Chapter Summary: The night of your arrival is anything but what you expected, realizing that not only was your cabin double-booked but the unexpected guest is more than willing to leave you stranded to savor his peace. A handful of stubborn talks and a big decision later, you realize that Joel might not be that much of a stranger at all.

Chapter Warnings: (7.2k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, fem!reader, weapons of convenience, reader being mesmerized but how handsome Joel is, copious amount of lusting, book talks, age gap, Joel has secrets, reader has a difficult relationship with family, two beds (but that won't last)

You should feel terrible about this. Distraught. Riddled with a crippling sadness over a lie that grew from your own selfishness. But, there’s nothing but tremendous relief as you shove your things into the trunk of your Uber and crawl into the backseat, starting the three hour drive into the deep Piney Woods of Texas.

You should feel horrible.

But, the silence is nice. You’re especially thankful that your driver wasn’t a people person at all, pointedly avoiding any communication outside of a greeting. It feels business-like, transactional. You couldn’t be bothered with the niceties and cheerfulness that surrounded the holidays. It made you sick to your stomach, chewing on your bottom lip without a thought in your mind as you inch closer. A three hour drive turns into two, falling asleep somewhere along the way, only waking up fifteen minutes away, somewhere along a rocky drive down a scenic, winding road that pulls a beautiful cabin into view.

It was lit up, decorated like a fucking christmas tree.

You grimaced slightly, but despite that, it was still everything you expected. It wasn’t too large or spacious, you wouldn’t feel so alone out here for the few weeks you were planning to stay and it wasn’t too cramped either. You felt if you uttered the word perfect it would turn into a jinx, so you kept yourself together and dragged yourself out into the cold, frigid air when the car pulled to a stop. The driver helped you with your bags, you remember to leave him with a big, gracious tip that left him more than satisfied, and he was on his way without a word.

You took a big breath, expanding your lungs and breathing in the fresh air. You didn’t feel suffocated here, something you noticed immediately. It wasn’t because of the lack of city pollution. Dragging your bags up the steps are a challenge, but you manage even with the rickety wheel that snags on a chipped piece of brick, unlocking your phone to remember the code that the owner had sent you earlier that morning, fumbling until your fingers came to life and pressed the code into the lock, a satisfying click of relief in the mechanism and you turned the doorknob.

Finally.

The heat blasts your face like a furnace, thawing out your limbs as you move quickly, efficiently and with too much urgency to escape the nighttime cold. You don’t notice much at first, among the amenities that came with the cabin, a fresh bottle of wine on the table and a note tucked under, something you would guzzle down sometime later. There was a fire going, low and crackling—seems unsafe, but what the hell did you know? It had to be the owners, assuming they came out earlier in the day in preparation for your arrival.

There’s blankets littered throughout, draped over the back of a couch, dark and covered in an unseemly plaid pattern, another stack of smaller blankets placed on a nearby cushion. Freezing to death seemed to be their immediate concern, obviously. You wandered aimlessly in the dark, scoping out both a light switch and the kitchen, noticing the stock of food, things that wouldn’t perish easily, probably for emergencies, but things are even more interesting as you approach the fridge, bathed in the fluorescent light as you look at the also stocked fridge, not fully, more sparsely, like someone who couldn’t decide on what to eat or maybe only cooked one meal a day. It’s then when a thought dawns on you that feels impossible, a lingering suspicious as your eyebrows pull into a taut line, fanning over the marble slab of counter-space, eyes landing on the window that hung over the kitchen sink behind a wretchedly patterned curtain, spotting the old truck parked outside the back of the cabin.

Your mind filters through a thousand and one reasons on why it would be there, but whatever is there in your mind is quickly snuffed out by the creaks of rickety floorboards and a hall light flickering on in the distance behind you—you reach and ultimately fumble for anything nearby to use as a weapon, landing on the single-most deadly thing in your line of sight that you can grasp quickly. There’s a knife block a few feet away and it’s the only plausible thing your brain can think of in a panic, unsheathing and turning on your heels to the person standing several feet away.

He is large, you can tell as much. Still mostly covered by the shadow of darkness that blanketed the rest of the cabin, you could make out the scruff of some facial hair, his tall stature, and the axe he gripped by the neck.

A fucking axe.

You were, no doubt, about to be murdered. It was the only thought on your mind, because despite the hard grip on the handle of the knife, you were no match.

But, then he speaks.

“Got about ten seconds to start explain’ what the hell you’re doin’ in this cabin.” As expected, his voice left little room to argue—but you had paid to be here. Fucking paid. You had every right.

Fuck this guy.

You grip the knife a tighter, knuckle-white grip as you raise it in a feeble attempt to seem threatening, “I booked this place for a month, I’ve got the front door code—who the fuck are you?”

You’re surprised that it works, but the rigidness in the stranger’s shoulder relaxes slightly and the butt of the axe hits the floor as he rests against an adjoining wall.

“Don’t think none of that matters,” He replies with a reverence of annoyance as he flicks on a nearby light and illuminates the living area of the cabin—shit, that’s where it was? Part of you was glad you hadn’t found it, wondering if he had been waiting in the shadows since you stepped inside the cabin, “you need to drive back into town and explain the mix up.”

Drive back? A fucking mix up?

“No.” It’s a steady answer, no quiver in your voice. You lower the knife, but it’s still held tightly at your side. And as the stranger steps into clearer view, you can’t help but memorize his face.

You know, in the case that you might need to describe it to the police if you weren’t already dead by then.

It’s almost unfair how threatening he looks without trying and yet somehow, irreverently handsome. It feels like a silly thought to have, but you weren’t blind. He’s older, much older than yourself. Hardened features, a sharp jawline covered with a thicker beard kept trimmed but still patchy in spots, face worn with worry. He was undoubtedly human and vulnerable, just like you. You can’t see much about his stature beside his height and tanned skin, muddled out by his pajamas, though he seems like he probably does some heavy lifting.

And meanwhile, your staring is noticed. He remains several feet of distance but his eyebrow quirks upwards slightly, arms crossing over his chest and—oh. He is the last person you would want to spar in a fight, biceps pulling taut and bulging slightly.

“Sure you didn’t book the other cabin down the way?” He sounds like he’s questioning a child, such a ridiculous mistake to make.

Oh, how could you be so stupid?

There was no mistaking which cabin you booked, because obviously, the other one was already booked out. This one wasn’t.

At least, it wasn’t supposed to be.

“Look,” The knife clatters against the counter and his eyes track it before averting back to you, “I get that you probably think this is some mistake on my part and whatever grumpy attitude you have, I also get it,” You really fucking did, feeling the beginnings of your blood boil with frustration, “I booked this trip two months ago, I triple checked the address, the owners sent me the door code yesterday morning. There is no way I booked the other cabin.”

He doesn’t even flinch, not a muscle. He’s unconvinced, unamused, and rearing on the edge of throwing your bags out himself just to get you out of here.

“Jesus, fuck—” You rip your phone from your coat pocket and flip through your apps until you land on the email full of information, booking address, dates, and all, and slide the phone across the counter, because despite his willingness to kick you out on your ass, the murderous aspect subsided the moment he dropped the axe.

Now, he just seemed like an asshole.

He approaches slowly, eyeing the phone skeptically before making it seem diminutive in his grip, squinting moderately as he brought the phone closer and looked, expression dropping by the millisecond as the realization settled in. And you start to feel triumphant, like you might’ve actually won the argument. There was still one problem at hand.

He was still here. You were still here.

And neither of you were going anywhere.

So, instead of trying to compromise, he doubles down.

“I was here first.”

“You’re fucking kidding me?” In a world of assholes, he was their all triumphant leader, “It’s below freezing, I Uber’d three hours to get out here, and I have no service. I’m not leaving.”

This, ultimately, had to be your worst nightmare. Double-booking? In the middle of the woods with a complete stranger who obviously had some murderous tendencies if his first instinct was to grab a goddamn axe? And no service?

“You didn’t drive here?” It’s the only thing he asks, bypassing everything else.

“You know, I think I just said I didn’t.”

“You had someone drive you three hours out in the woods with no way of transportation anywhere for,” He takes a second glance at your phone, noting the booking dates, “four weeks?”

Admittedly, it was done on a whim. You hadn’t thought out the fine details, but you knew there was a small store a few miles north that was run by a nice old lady that provided to some of the people who did live out in these woods year round. It was the one thing the owners had added as an addition to the obvious plus of the cabin being so secluded. Plus, the cabin was stocked with some food, or at least, it was.

You wanted no contact. But, obviously you weren’t going to get that.

“Kinda part of the whole getting away for the holidays memo,” You reply sarcastically, “I would’ve managed, mind you.”

Maybe. You would’ve figured it out eventually, but that didn’t matter. Things weren’t going as planned now. You interject again, crossing your arms to match his stance briefly before throwing your arm out flippantly as you waved a hand toward the untraversed hallway.

“This place has two bedrooms, doesn’t it?”

A two bed, one bath cabin. You remembered that much.

He clears his throat, “Yeah.” He sounds so foreboding it makes you ache with an anxiety you had tried so hard to escape from.

“And seein’ as you’re here alone,” You didn’t need to make any assumption otherwise, he seemed like the lonely type, “and I’m here alone—I’m staying.”

“For the night.” He corrects, “Then I can drive you into town tomorrow morning and you can get your refund and find a ride home.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, snatching your phone off the counter and stowing it away in your pocket again, finally taking the steps to bypass him and reach for your bags.

The thing was—you weren’t leaving. If there was anything to be learned about you, it was how undoubtedly stubborn you could be. This cabin was just as rightfully yours as it would be anyone else who paid for the time. It was money you had worked to save up, money you had shoveled out to secure yourself a relaxing holiday and it wasn’t about to be ruined.

His voice startles you as he, somehow, had moved closer without you noticing. He was reaching for your bags too, because despite his grumpiness, he was still that guy—of course.

“Don’t. Touch.” You glance at him with a warning, which he takes, thankfully. He retracts and lingers briefly as he snuffs out the fire before he returns to his own room, you can only assume.

And even if you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, you still barricade your door that night, suitcase stacked on suitcase, bag on bag, and you’re almost sure he can hear it if he’s still awake. You hope he does.

But, when your head hits the pillow, all tucked away in the bed that would become yours for the next month, you immediately fall asleep despite the lingering threat outside your door.

It all feels like a horrible dream until your eyes open the next morning and again, you’re here.

Then there’s a lingering smell of bacon, breakfast cooking in the distance and the house is warm, inviting, welcoming. Damn.

Fine. You were curious. Still annoyed, but not as much after a night of sleep. You could approach this at a different angle, with a better attitude and maybe work something out with the stranger outside of your bedroom.

You stretch your limbs until the protest and steady on your feet, wrapping one of the spare blankets at the end of the bed over your shoulders and around your body as you trudge toward the living area, connected kitchen off to the side as you round the corner of the hallway.

Your eyes settle on his back first, thankful he doesn’t immediately lock eyes with you when you enter—his muscles stretch as he fiddles with something on the stove, shoulder blades pulling inwards as he shakes the pan gripped in his right hand, still dressed in his clothes from the night before and his hair mussed up in the back from sleep and it feels odd to admire him for a moment, but you really can’t help it.

There was a time when you’d scold yourself, but a lifetime of horrible boyfriends and even worse hook-ups, you knew that you had needs and feelings and you weren’t the type to ignore them or make excuses. Whoever he was, whatever his name may be, he was handsome. It was the first thing you thought about last night, despite the presence of possible murder, and it was the only immediate thing on your mind at the moment.

It had been months. You were giving up a little lee-way to feel bad for yourself.

But, then he’s speaking and it startles you to near death.

“Mornin’.” He greets with a reverence you are not expecting. He sounds relaxed.

The fucker sounds relaxed. Like he hadn’t tried to kick you out on your ass the night before. Your face pulls up in a disgruntled scrunch and you have the gamble to look confused. Because, yeah. This was not the person you met last night—given you were technically an intruder in his mind.

Maybe he wasn’t a complete asshole after all—No. Nope. You barely know him.

“You gonna keep starin’ or eat some breakfast?” He asks a little less polite, but it’s rude enough to elicit a response. Because, yes—you were starving.

So, stare and eat.

You take a seat at the barstool tucked under the island and assess the field, a mix of simple breakfast items: pancakes, eggs, bacon, toasts with varying levels of char, and a small bowl of mixed berries.

This feels…a little too much. But, you dig in with a ferocity that stomps out any current concern.

“Look–” He starts after a long bout of silence, having turned off the burner and beginning to assemble his own plate.

“If this is an apology breakfast for being a complete asshole,” You shake your head, cheeks puffed with the fluffiness of a pancake, slathered and drowned in syrup a few berries swimming in the pooled up sugary mess as you forked them and stuffed them in alongside, “apology accepted. Forgiven. Whatever.”

You couldn’t be bothered to care at that moment. You’d stood your ground, you weren’t leaving.

“It’s…not.” He eventually manages to say, interrupted by your schpiel, cutting his way through his eggs before forking a piece into his mouth, chewing slowly, “Look, I didn’t want send you off with an empty stomach, might not be great at this,” He waves a vagrant hand—Oh, so…talking to people, being accommodating, this last could drag on and on and—”but it’s not your fault, I guess.”

“It’s not,” You quickly retorted, the space between your brow scrunched into a permanent scowl at this point, “are you—You’re still trying to kick me out? No….no.”

“I was here—”

“First, yeah. I heard you last night.”

And part of you hears the echoing of your mother, that pestering and insisting tone she carried.

“Try new things, sweetheart. Meet someone. You never know what will happen.”

Of course, that didn’t apply to complete strangers. She meant it in the context of: find a nice boy, date him, marry him, and give her grand-babies. You were never going to be that person.

You tried. Hard. Dated for a year, then two, and that ended in a mess of tears. You hated thinking about the effort you attempted to put into a relationship that was doomed from the beginning. You both ended up at different colleges and it was all for naught. And through college, you swore off boyfriends, slept around, and it was easier. But, it was less than exciting.

In fact, it was boring.

But regardless, the sentiment stuck around. You weren’t trying to trick this man into falling in love with you, but you weren’t going to let him displace you on a holiday vacation.

Screw this guy.

“This cabin has two bedrooms and plenty of space. I booked this place until the end of the month and I’m not giving it up,” You state matter-of fact, “You’re not driving me back into town and you’re not going to boss me around like you have some authority over me. I don’t even know you.”

The man seems speechless for a moment, chewing silently at his breakfast.

That was exactly what he assumed would happen—that he could, basically, command you into leaving. Thankfully, you didn’t do well with authority.

“Actually, how do I know you aren’t some squatter?” You ask suddenly, fork clanking against the plate as it falls, “Why don’t you show some proof that you paid to be here?”

It shouldn’t surprise you when he reaches for his own phone, taking his sweet, sweet time to scroll until he finds the proof and slots the phone your way. It doesn’t surprise you. You only wanted the proof.

But, you can’t help the way your eyes bug out when you read the dates, matching up almost perfectly with your own, give or take a few days—which is why he arrived before you. He was here until the day after Christmas, just like you.

Your luck, of course.

You slid the phone back toward him and pushed your plate aside, thankfully full up on breakfast, but still frustrated. Things weren’t supposed to go this way. It was supposed to be a month away, a month of seclusion. But, that obstacle was standing opposite of you.

You sigh heavily, shrinking under your blanket and burying your head into cupped hands, digging the heels of your palms in until you see stars, coming up for air only after the plates start to clink against each other from movement.

“Okay,” You take a breath, lifting your head slowly, “I’m guessing you came out here to be alone,” It’s only an assumption, but it seems glaringly obvious, “so did I. So, how about we just do our best to avoid each other?”

“Seems kinda hard,” He argues, “seeing as we’re under one roof.”

“Well, we eat together. Or we don’t at all. I don’t need you cooking meals for me—but outside of that or just some occasional passing by, we don’t have to talk.”

It wasn’t a well-thought-out plan, but…

You’ve had enough roommates to have mastered this skill by now. Just because you were under the same roof as someone didn’t mean you had to get along, though it was ideal. It was a month. You could manage.

Keep your things locked away, doors locked too, always keep your guard up, live the entire vacation with the lingering thought that maybe he might have underlying murderous tendencies—and guessing by the even blanker look on his face as he examines you, your mind really starts to wonder.

“Fine.” He agrees.

Wait.

“You’re serious?”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re givin' me much of a choice.”

You smile triumphantly, a little too eager to gloat.

“Unfair, isn’t it?”

You couldn’t resist. And you brace for a rigid retort, some grumble under his breath. But, it never comes.

Instead, he chuckles. It’s so slight you almost miss it, but his chest shakes with a silent laughter before he’s returning to his neutral state and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Must be used to gettin’ your way.” He’s eyes flick up, hands buried into the dishwater he’s managed to start up under the rumble of conversation—there’s definitely something there, a glint in his eyes.

You feel like you’re imagining things. You definitely were.

“Not at all, actually.” You contradict, tapping a lone finger against the countertop, “So—can I ask your name? Seein’ how we’re going to be around each other for the next…month.” It feels unreal as it rolls off your tongue.

A month with a total stranger. Perfect idea.

“Joel.” He answers simply. You have to take his word for it. But, you don’t sense a lie. You respond with a polite utterance of your own name and that closes the conversation out.

You watch in silence as Joel cleans, his pointed wandering around the kitchen, a purpose behind his steps as he moves. He’s so…broad. So large.

Much larger than any man you’ve come to know, or seen, really. You blame it on the fact that college boys were just that…boys. They weren’t men. Not like Joel.

He carried it in his voice, his demeanor, the age on his face that worked—and so well, at that. You never had a reason to look at men, older men. The type that would complain about you being half their age, how you reminded them of their own daughter. You would wretch away in disgust and flee a million miles in the other direction.

But, Joel. He wasn’t like that at all. He hadn’t given you a reason to think otherwise—and here you were, lusting over someone you knew nothing about. Pathetic.

“Starin’ ain’t polite,” He chides, no malice in his tone but it pulls you away from your quickly fleeting, depraved thoughts, “parents never teach you that?”

“I never listened much,” You shrug, but there’s an urge to apologize given the close quarters and conditions you were agreeing to live under for the next few weeks, “and it’s a bad habit, sorry.” It feels a little less than sincere, but Joel takes it with no issue.

But, there’s a sight you don’t catch as you retreat back to your own room.

Because Joel—his eyes follow you the entire way, wondering just how much of a mess he wrapped himself up in when he agreed.

—

Your eyes dry up with how long you’ve stared at your phone screen, staring at the small letters that spell out No Service and huffing out a small sigh as you rolled over in bed, shifted to find a comfortable spot…nothing.

You shift again, still not good enough.

This was going to be a nightmare if you secluded yourself in the bedroom, cooped up on a bed that, while decent, wasn’t your own.

Maybe booking this trip was a terrible idea.

You shouldn’t have lied to your parents about your reasoning for a spur of the moment trip to the deep woods of Texas—even though you had booked it out weeks in advance.

And that you were taking the trip with a boy that didn’t exist, which was a bigger lie to add to the already rapidly growing web you’d weaved.

“You don’t know him,” You’d told her, “I’m not ready to introduce him.”

Because, really—how the fuck were you supposed to introduce someone who didn’t exist?

You sit with a defeated jolt and reach for one of your bags, the only one filled with things that weren’t absolute necessities. Mostly books, a music player, stuff that would, hopefully, keep you busy if you got bored while you were here alone.

Alone was a foreign concept now.

Somewhere in the fog of thoughts you find a book, covered tattered from years of wear, years and years of rereads that never got old.

You could make yourself disappear somewhere on the couch in the living room, but not stuffed into a corner in a bedroom when you had an entire house at your expense.

Joel wouldn’t even know you were there.

—

Joel wasn’t even here.

When you step out into the hall, floorboards creaking underneath your weight, the silence otherwise is deafening. You traverse further, his bedroom door shut tight.

Well, maybe he had the same idea you originally did, tucking yourself away into your room. You shrug to yourself and continue the path to the couch, noting that Joel had started another fire. The cabin was well-insulated but it was a nice touch, the soft crackling of the burning wood and kindling, the feel—it was very…appropriate.

You settle into the cushion and finally feel that little slice of comfort you were searching for, feet curled up somewhere beside you with a blanket draped over your lap, book flipped open to the beginning.

This felt perfect. Or close to it. You tried to ignore the fact that you weren’t alone, not at all. But, it was damn near close.

And the peace lasts, for an hour, that is.

Turns out, Joel did leave.

To where? No clue. But, he comes in with snow covered boots and a heavy winter coat, cheeks flushed pink and the ghost of his breath appearing in front of him as he stomps his feet out on the doormat. He closes the door before you can offer a protest his way, removing his winter gear layer by layer…

You force your eyes away, rereading the paragraph you were on a few times before you find your place again and continue through the story, face buried in the book as you raise it slightly, left arm slung over the back of the couch as you lick the index finger on your right hand, flipping the page.

Ignore him. It was easy.

But somewhere along the way, Joel appears closer.

“Lord of the Flies?” He looks bemused, puzzled, shocked. Like an expression of—Really? You?

You return the look, even stranger as you tilt the book away from him, noticing the way his hand grips his winter gloves in a tight grasp, eyes shooting up to his face.

“Yeah.” It’s a simple answer, nothing to elaborate about.

He could read—fucking fantastic.

His eyebrows raise in disbelief, but it doesn’t feel antagonizing. “Remember readin’ that when I was young,” He comments, “still holds up?”

“I’d say so,” You respond, offering him the attention he wasn’t inadvertently asking for, “why?”

Joel seems so…lonely. From a glance, at least. He’s got a sadness around his eyes that you never noticed until he had approached you so closely. He was only a few inches away from the back of the couch, just out of reach, and he sways a little on his feet like he favors one leg over the other and he hangs his head ever so slightly.

You weren’t here to question him or even attempt to know him, really—but you can’t help it.

“Just curious,” He settles on, “can’t remember the last time I sat down and read a book, really. Don’t think I’d have the patience for it now either, but y’know…”

You didn’t.

He looks like he wants to say more, but he settles for silence. And, it doesn’t feel weird this time. He retreats a moment later, footsteps echoing throughout the cabin before the question comes to mind, retching itself out of your mouth before you have the consciousness to stop it.

“Wait, how old are you?” You ask curiously, attempting the math on your fingers, back and forth, eyes squinting in confusion as the book falls over your lap and your turn to catch a final glimpse of him.

“Kid, you’re gonna hurt yourself thinkin’ that hard.” Joel jokes lightly, something you haven’t seen before, but then he answers simply, “Fifty-six.”

Oh. Huh.

You nod slowly in response before turning away, burying your head back into the book in an attempt to avoid whatever look comes your way. The click of a door is a sigh of relief as you stop reading entirely, resting the book against your lap as you take a moment.

The snow was falling heavily, blanketing the ground with inches of fluffy white. It beckons the question of why Joel would even traverse out in this weather—or why he would’ve subjected you to this had he forced you back into town and back in a car to the city.

He must’ve liked his loneliness too and here you were, wrecking those plans like he had wrecked yours.

But, maybe this was a good thing.

Maybe you had saved Joel from his own loneliness, unknowingly.

And maybe he had saved you too.

—

As the night winds down, separate dinners aside after Joel allowed you free pickings of whatever was in the kitchen that he brought along with him, you find that the bottle of wine still remained unopened, the note addressed to no one in particular.

Not you or Joel. It was fair game and you’d won.

By now, the sun is long gone and the only light that came through the windows were the twinkling bright lights that hung outside and the flush, orange glow of the never waning fire, like a constant reminder of Joel’s presence in the house. He refreshed it every few hours and you watched as he did so, hunched over as he knelt, sleeves bunched up around his elbows and sometimes shifting completely onto his knees as he replaced the logs or waded up some extra paper to toss in.

You eye the bottle curiously—it was nothing special. A store bought Chardonnay that tasted good enough to enjoy, but it wasn’t something to brag about. If it could get you drunk, it was worth a million bucks.

You rummage around the kitchen until you find an appropriate glass—something wide, deep, and refillable. The tip of the bottle clinks against the glass as you pour, teeth biting as the inside of your cheeks as you decide that…mmm, no, just a little more.

“Bottle ain’t runnin’ from ya.” Joel comments, again to your surprise and it makes you jump, hard. Hard enough that a splash of spirits dampens the front of your shirt and you scowl in the older man’s direction.

“Stop doing that,” You're more than serious, deadly serious. At least, you try to be.

Unfortunately, you’re not at all as threatening as you think you appear to be. And Joel has a glass dangling from his own fingertips, only a sip left of dark brown liquid and you surmise that he had the same idea. A nightcap before bed.

Or, in your case, half a bottle of Chardonnay.

Joel deposits the glass into the sink silently, ignoring how you aggressively dab the front of your shirt with a hand towel to soak up some of the alcohol, like it wasn’t his fault. Inadvertently.

“Are you always that jumpy?” Joel asks after a minute or so, lingering around the edge of the island, tired eyes and even more tired pull of his lips, not quite a smile, not much of a scowl either.

“Forgive me for being a little on edge,” You retort with a sass that, quite frankly, is unwarranted. But, you’re feeling snarky and the moment calls for it, “I’m rooming with a strange man who greeted me with an axe.”

“If I recall, you pointed a knife at me all the same,” Valid point, pointless argument to make against you, though. “And weren’t you the one who put your foot down about stayin’ here?”

Yes, you did.

There’s too long of a silence because, really, you aren’t sure how to cut the tension—and maybe it was one-sided, but you couldn’t help but still retain some anger, some jealousy that you weren’t here alone.

“Alright, so maybe we can’t ignore each other like you want,” Joel explains, in reality it does seem impossible, but you had been hopeful, “doesn’t mean you have to scamper like a cat when you see me.”

Your bottom lip pulls in between your teeth before you’re pressing the glass to your lips and taking a hearty sip, steadfast in your silence.

Joel face contorts in thought, like he’s trying to think out his next few words careful, rubbing a hand through his scruff, speckled with patches of gray throughout, a particular spot just below his ear that his thumb reaches, just at the hinge of his jaw and he rubs.

And, you’re staring again.

Joel doesn’t say anything this time if he does clock it.

“I came out here same as you, enjoyin’ my time alone.” Joel explains, feeling the deep timbre of his voice as he speaks, “I don’t have any intention of tryin’ to hurt you, nothin’ like that. Let’s just…be cordial.”

Even if that meant faking it.

Though, there’s a sincerity to Joel when he speaks that strikes, not often found with the people you’ve met in your life. And you know why you’re being so bitter, so abrasive and biting, but that resolves softens slightly,

Maybe it was the Chardonnay.

When had you finished off the glass?

“Cordial?” You repeat, echoing the sentiment.

“Yeah,” Joel nods, trying to offer up a different definition, “Friendly, polite.”

It’s clear that even despite his aura of loneliness, he seemed to deal with strangers often. You were a stranger to him. It wasn’t the first thing that struck you, so worried about your own safety that you had snuck into his idea of his own territory, now that territory was being shared.

“No, I know what cordial means,” You reply flippantly, a little jaded by the gesture that he felt he needed to explain, “—I just, I was gonna offer you a drink then.”

Even though he very obviously already had his fill of what you can only surmise was bourbon, noting a bottle shoved away on a nearby alcohol designated shelf.

“A gesture,” You lay the sweetness on thick and Joel rolls his eyes half-heartedly, seeing right through you, “of—good faith, I guess. We can forget we were ready to murder each other last night and start fresh.”

“Darlin’, m’not much of a wine man.”

Darlin’. That was new.

You start to realize that when the sun goes down, his regional accent thickens up, forced out by exhaustion but it’s nice, comforting almost. It reminds you of back home, despite your lack of enthusiasm of being around your family, it gives you the hope that maybe you and Joel aren’t all that different from each other.

“Then, just sit.” You shrug, nodding toward the small table for two squished in the corner of the alcove, right beside a cushioned seat buried in the shape of the hexagonal wall, window view as far as your eyes could reach, distance buried in a thick bush of trees but if you squint hard enough, you can see another cabin off in the distance. The cabin you should’ve booked, but couldn’t.

Maybe this was your own personal reckoning.

Much to your surprise, Joel does take a seat.

When you’re both finally seated, comfortable, you ask the first question:

“Where are you from?” You ask curiously.

Forward, that’s for sure. Joel could respect it, but still has a reaction to remain taken aback.

“Come on, you can lie and I wouldn’t know any better,” You remind him, “fine, I’m from Austin, born and raised.”

Joel’s chin hits his sternum as he chuckles, looking away briefly off into the distance and you laugh a little in response, confused.

“What? Is that funny or something?”

“No, no—I’m…I’m also from Austin,” He admits, the likelihood not impossible but it is surely a fucking coincidence, “lived there my whole life.”

Well, maybe you’ve crossed paths before, but Austin was a big city and it seemed unlikely.

Your eyes narrow, attempting to read him. It’s more of a gag at your expense, watching as he looks just as skeptical of you, brown eyes examining your face as intently as he could. You have to ignore the feeling to shrink under his gaze, intense and all-encompassing, it feels suffocating, but not in a way that makes you want to escape.

It wasn’t like that at all. In fact, it was welcoming. Like a safety blanket. He blinks once, twice, speaks when things grow awkward—

“I’m not…lyin’,” Joel admits, “that isn’t a lie.”

“You’re not supposed to tell me, Joel.”

Joel cracks a half-smile, wrestling with the aching joints in his hands as he squeezes his hands together, hands that have been through things, surely: hard work, years of labor, covered with small scars from burns and scrapes, you can only assume.

“The whole idea is that…we don’t know each other. We aren’t going to see each other after this,” You tell him, curled up in the chair, wine glass resting on your knee and a fist nudged up under your chin, “you could tell me your deepest, darkest secrets and it wouldn’t matter because I’m not supposed to know if you’re lying or not.”

“So, if I ask you what someone like you is doin’ out here during the holidays instead of where you should be—with family or kids your age, what’ll you tell me?” Joel asks curiously, taking the bait and returning it with a challenge.

You have no reason to tell the truth. But, you also don’t have a reason to lie.

“My family is suffocating.” You shrug indifferently, “They helicopter my life and I didn’t want to face it this Christmas, so I fed them some story and booked a trip out here for the month.”

His eyes soften and you have to hide your reaction behind a sip of your wine, knowing that any sympathy sent your way was not welcomed. You didn’t want it or need it.

“Am I allowed to ask about the story?” Joel questions.

It’s almost surprising, seeing him suddenly interested in your game.

You giggle quietly to yourself, lips pressed against the wine glass before you pull it away briefly.

“They think I’m out here with a super secret boyfriend that I refuse to introduce to them.”

He can see how cheeky you’re being about the whole thing, seemingly relishing in the enjoyment of torturing your parents. You’ve got your eyes on him too, staring at him again. He’s noticed it one too many times.

Dangerous. It’s dangerous. Again, he doesn’t stop you.

His breathing is calm, solid—he’s settled in his seat and relaxed, something you haven’t had the chance to witness. Joel is so…normal. It reminds you that in any other circumstance, if you had met him at a store or somewhere in town, that you wouldn’t spare him a second glance. He’s handsome, sickeningly so. But, you would’ve passed him up without a thought. He would’ve done the same.

For…different reasons, perhaps.

But, these were special circumstances.

You note how his hair is probably a little outgrown, curling around his ears and a deep, deep brown. Almost black but not quite. He doesn’t seem like a guy who styles his hair, allows it to lay how it pleases and doesn’t fuss much over his looks. But, the longer you look, the more mesmerizing he becomes. There’s a tan line on his wrist from what you can only assume is a watch, but he isn’t wearing it now—he must work in the sun, noting the way he’s sunkissed on just about every other part of his exposed body, up to the beginnings of scruff that starts below his chin, near his neck. His toned arms that could definitely swing an axe without a problem. You don’t linger on his legs for even a second, knowing that even for you it would be too far. But, he crosses them at the thought, like a cue—or a tease. Was he….

No.

You continue idly, trying to mask yourself like you were lost in thought, tracing a finger around the lip of the wine glass, “If they knew the truth, they’d shit themselves all the same.”

Joel chuckles softly, a low grumble that is barely audible.

“Spendin’ your Christmas with an old man, half your age. I’m sure that’ll comfort ‘em well.”

He never asked, only assumed. But, basing it off your evident naivety, he couldn’t be far off.

“Eh..give or take a couple years.” You shrug, resting the glass on the table and crossing your arms. “They’ve always treated me like a kid, always questioning my decisions. I just wanted one holiday without it. Without…anything, really.”

Joel looks away, like the thought of that stings him, burrows at him in a different way. You want to ask, but refrain, no matter how strong the urge.

“Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’.”

And there it was again.

You can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto your face despite yourself.

Joel doesn’t understand, looking at you inquisitively, something he’s become used to around you in the short time he’s been here, “What?”

“Darlin’.” You mock his southern draw playfully, echoing his deep voice despite your differing pitches, “Reminds me of home.”

“Jus’ slips out from time to time,” Joel admits, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” You assure him with a more welcoming smile, “I don’t mind.”

Joel shakes his head in tired amusement, rubbing his fingertips against the worry lines in his forehead before they shift down his face and you can see the exhaustion in his face. He doesn’t look well-rested at all, not even on a vacation meant for that exact reason. You feel guilty now, keeping him up into the late hours of the night for your own entertainment. He looks away again, off toward something that your eyes don’t follow.

You moved rather silently as you stood, picking up your mess and stowing the bottle away in the fridge returning to bid a goodnight to Joel, who was no longer much of a stranger anymore. But, he’s already asleep—somewhere between the time it took you to clean up and put away the alcohol, he had passed out.

He’d stayed up for you, noting how soundlessly he slept now.

You don’t have the heart to wake him up, quickly assess your surroundings and find the thick hand-woven blanket resting over the back of the couch and pick it up, draping it over him carefully. He doesn’t shift an inch, cheek resting against a close fist, the other hand closed just as tight where it rests in his lap, seeming like he was always on guard, even in his sleep. You’ve never been more intrigued by a stranger, even if this was fleeting and foolish, you wanted to understand him. And as much as Joel was trying to fight it, he wanted to understand you too.

Thank you for reading this to the end! If you enjoyed please extend a like or reblog (with a comment if you'd like, i love reading them <3) to support writers, it helps a ton!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #MMITW #my writing #pedrostories

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destructive-path · 2 months

Note

can you write ellie with dacryphillia?

heres a really rough quick drabble 4 u! (not proofread)

mdni(18+) nsfw, bdsm?ellie pulls out the belt idfk (lovingly), dacryphillia (duh) free palestine

“sorry i cant tonight. i have plans with my ellie.”

your ellie.

its true. she was yours, and you were hers. like yin and yang. polar opposites creating harmony. like two puzzle pieces come together to create a beautiful picture.

everyone in the town knew you two to be inseparable any time it was allowed. it was rare one of you would be spotted without the other. slowly people began addressing you as a unit, instead of your individual selfs, because you were hers. and she was yours. neither of you minded this, infact something about it made you two even more close.

“right. plans.”

the “plans” you had mentioned was a delicate way of putting things. your friend, however knew the truth. whilst you and ellie were infamous for being a perfect pair, you two were also infamous for being the LOUDEST couple in the late hours of the night.

warmth rose on your cheeks as you adjusted your pack and turned to your shared home with your girlfriend, where you knew she would be waiting for you.

“ill see you later!”

you waved as you walked in the opposite direction of your friend. you were only a few steps away from her before you heard her whisper-

“lesbians.”

as she turned on her heels and made her way to the kickback you had denied her invitation to. but not before shouting-

“GO EASY ON HER FOR ME HUH? DONT NEED HER SLACKING ON PATROL.”

—

everyone knew ellie to be a bit closed off, quiet. when she stumbled onto your little town bloody and bruised, alone…you knew you had to take her in. her first few months there she never said much of anything to anyone. she did make herself useful. always volunteering for any work, or patrol shifts. most people thought she was just eager to show her appreciation for being rescued. you- however, knew better. you knew she desperately needed a distraction from her thoughts. whatever she had been through prior to becoming a member of your town haunted her. you could see it.

eventually ellie opened up to you. most people had given up on cracking her harsh outer shell. but not you, no you were determined to learn everything you could about ellie. so you worked for it. made yourself available to her at any moment in fear that you would miss the time she was feeling venerable enough to share what brought her here. what made her this way.

you never pushed her to share. or forced her to be as into you as you were into her. and ellie appreciated that. you were always just there. ready to talk when she needed, ready to distract her if she got too in her head. she got used to that feeling of having you close. eventually her feelings became something more, and eventually you both opened up and became completely obsessed with discovering new things about each other. and the rest was history.

no one ever saw ellie the way you did. people in the town knew you to be persistent. always ready to lead. you gave orders like you were born to do it. so naturally when you and the quiet woman had become a pair, people assumed you were in the place of dominance in your relationship. but oh were they wrong.

you and ellie were polar opposites in life, and polar opposites in the bedroom. you two had created a space where you could give in to your deepest, darkest desires. after the first few more vanilla sexcapades something more dark crept its way between the sheets. something more real.

it started when ellie had you on all fours, your chest pressed to the soft mattress. back arched. she was behind you, leaned over your spine as she began whispering in your ear-

“can i make you feel pain baby? want to make you hurt…right. here.”

she squeezed the fat of your ass with her hand, and you were done for.

see, while you enjoyed being in charge, you also missed the feeling of letting go. by day you were a soldier. never bested in a fight, hardly faced with any challenges or fear or pain. you missed it, you had allowed yourself to become so comfortable in this town that you forgot how delicious adrenaline was. how it felt good to be covered in scars and marks and to know you had made it out alive, and that because of it all, you were stronger.

so when your sweet, quiet, girlfriend offered to show you some aggression, a little pain, wanted to leave her own marks on you- how could you deny her? if she didnt ask herself you wouldve been begging for it eventually. but as i said. ellie was the opposite of you. while you wanted to submit, ellie craved dominance.

on one night where she had opened up particularly more than usual you had found out why she became the way she is. to sum it up shortly. ellie had lost everything due to that taste for an assertive outlook on life. she had inflicted so much pain on others to the point where her life had fallen apart. and left her lonely. so when she settled into her new life in your small town she made a promise to herself that she never to get lost in her aggression again. shed be quiet, cool, calm, collected. but, she would be lying if she said she didn’t miss being someone who instilled fear in others. ellie had gotten so used to being the hunter she forgot what it was like to sit on the sidelines and let others call the shots.

but here, with you, she could give in. ellie could harness that animal in her, and you only encouraged it. wanted it. needed it. that side of her is what fit so perfectly with you during intercourse. ellie wanted to see you helpless, crying, sobbing even. she wanted you pathetic and at her disposal. and you couldn’t even call it surrendering because of how much you needed her to do whatever she wanted to with you. nothing was too much. as long as it you, and your ellie? you were happy.

—

you bite back another moan as ellie raises the temperature radiating off your thighs with yet another smack of her black leather belt on your soft skin.

your arms are tied above you, ankles bound by rope tied to each corner of the bed frame.

“where we at baby?”

your hips twist as much as you can chasing something, anything, everything that ellie isnt giving you in this moment.

“th-thirty seven..”

you whisper shakily. then as a reward ellie rubs the stinging pain away on your inner thigh.

“mmhm. good job. you almost there?”

ellie brings her belt back to your thigh, this time just tracing the area where she smacked you previously. then she drags it up your thigh and across your cunt until she reaches the middle of your other thigh. then plants a harsh slap there to match the prior.

“mmnf! t-thirty eight. yes.”

ellie tuts at you. always massaging the sting of her belt away before gracing you with another slap. her eyes move to look up at yours and she can tell you are telling the truth. tears coat your eyes making them appear glossy. they glisten under the moonlight that seeps through the curtains of your shared home. ellie has seen them like this many times before, but each time it takes her breath away.

“poor thing, you cant even make it to forty today? we are no where near your record…”

and it happens again. SLAP. moan, soothe, and you count.

“thirty nine! m-close!”

you whine and squint in pleasure which prompts the warm wet salty tears to finally spill from your eyes. and now you have done it. you lost. and when ellie sees those wet trails the tears leave behind she can’t help but smile wide.

ellie loved seeing those tears. how someone could make crying look so angelic was beyond her. your sobs had become almost mandatory during moments like this. she made it her mission to see you weeping in more places than one.

SLAP!

this time, the belt comes in direct contact with your leaky pussy and the initial feeling is enough to make you orgasm. your whole body convulses as much as it possibly could muster due to how restrained you are. ellie hadn’t even touched you there, she had spent so long toying with you and it felt too perfect that your body had gotten so worked up on its own.

slap, moan, soothe, count.

that was her way. so once she had graced you with contact on your cunt you began to grow excited at what was to come next. your body still shaking as ellie discards the belt in her hands and lowers her head to face your pussy directly. she licks her lips then presses a soft kiss ontop of your folds then says in a cocky tone-

“forty.”

—

A/N: i have never written dacryphillia before so im sorry if this feels wrong or something! i tried to be respectful as possible.

#ellie williams #the last of us #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #lesbian #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie x you #ellie x reader #lesbian wlw #wlw ns/fw #williams ellie #ellie williams smut #wlw

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darklordofthesimp · 1 year

Note

i’m sad and hurting my own feelings here.

ghost is..well ghost, and tries to hide feelings right? okay so imagine this.

ghost falls for someone and feels himself getting attached. the other person is obviously attached too bc the feeling is mutual. he picks up on it and decides to start sleeping with other people to try and make his crush fizzle out. probably thinks it’s just purely physical desire and anyone could fix that. nothing as good as his person could possibly happen to him (YOURE WRONG SIMON GET THERAPY)

his crush finds out about the sexcapade and is distraught. like screaming, crying, and throwing up (quite literally) and soap is comforting them. ghost overheard the ordeal and is just like “what the fuck did i do”

Oh my God. But imagine that in the Anything verse???

Ghost and Sunshine acknowledging each other's feelings on their beloved rooftop. Despite all of their harsh edges, somewhere along the line they fell for each other.

Through thick and thin, despite their bickering and their tension, the stolen glances- the stolen touches- have reminded them exactly how they feel.

Except Simon Riley has fallen too hard. It was fine when it was a crush, it was fine when him and Sunshine had slept together in a drunken attempt to forget a bad mission. That had been seeking comfort in each other.

It wasn't fine when he couldn't stop thinking of them. It wasn't fine when anxiety crippled his breathing at the thought of them getting shot. It wasn't fine when he realised he wanted Sunshine all too himself- to call them his.

He needed to get over Sunshine before his stupidity got them both killed.

You can't form attachments in this job.

You can't love in this job.

So he finds Birdy. Birdy, poor and vulnerable Birdy. They hold Ghost on a pedestal, he helped them through so much, he was there for them during their darkest days and slowly put them back on his feet.

He trusted Birdy.

Simon felt frantic when he opened the door to their room. Although they weren't having nightmares anymore they still struggled to sleep, he'd often come to keep them company because he could never sleep either.

Birdy knew the energy was different the second he sat down on the bed with them.

Ghost said nothing, his fingers trembling as he reached for Birdy- praying that they'd let him touch them, begging whatever deity that Birdy would get him over Sunshine.

When Birdy shuddered a breath, and leaned into his touch, he knew that he had them.

One after the other, the layers of their clothing stripped, one after the other, their walls fell. Ghost never let them all down, only one person could have him vulnerable- and it wasn't Birdy.

The door creaked from behind them as Ghost moved against Birdy's body, their breaths painting the room with lewd images.

A glass shattered against the ground from behind them and Ghost turned over his shoulder.

Sunshine stood in the doorway.

Ghost had left the door slightly ajar in his rush to forget them.

"I just-" Sunshine shook, "just wanted to check on Birdy."

Birdy sucked in a breath.

Sunshines eyes hardened as they landed on Ghost. His eyes were wide and distantly he could feel Birdy pulling the covers over where they had split from each other.

"Sorry to interrupt," Sunshine said. Their voice was venomous. The hatred in their eyes shone bright and Ghost was suckerpunched by the sight.

Sunshine would solve their issue for them in their lifelong attempt to never get hurt.

Sunshine would never fucking speak to him again. That didn't mean mission talk, work talk was work talk- but Sunshine would never speak to Simon Riley again.

----

He could hear them sobbing.

The hushed soothing of a man that wasn't him.

He imagined König's fingers smoothing down their hair, his arms wrapped around their wracking body. He imagined the giant man kissing Sunshine's forehead and whispering sweet nothings against their skin from behind that door.

Simon knew he had no right to be there. No right to stand outside König's room listening to the person he loved hyperventilate.

He'd ruined it all.

His inability to love others, he'd fucked his chance to be truly loved.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #anything lore

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alienpossession · 4 months

Text

Body a Day 19: Father

Read the first part here

I was estranged from my homophobic father ever since I graduated college and lived on my own.

I bet deep down he knows about my whole sexcapade with the football jocks throughout high school and then the buddies I brought along during winter break were more than just regular buds. But he chose to not rock his own boat with outing his own gay son and believed that I just chose to went away from him and lived my life.

I finally reached out to him after 7 years as I projected to marry my partner next year and how fast he's approaching 60. I was anxious because I surely would rock his boat by doing this. Yet, contrary to my belief, he took the news well and even congratulated me. He was warm, appreciative and seemed more focused and less talkative, but maybe that's just his way to process the whole news.

As I planned to head back home to San Diego next Monday, I started to pack my luggage. Then, out of the blue, my father walked in my room only in his underwear, a rather common sight around this house during my visit yet still startled me everytime

"Oh, you are not staying for Christmas, Brad?"

"I told you, I promised Dylan that I'll join his family's Christmas in order for him to introduce me to his family,"

"Ahh, that's too bad,"

"Well, you can join me if you want. You haven't met Dylan after all,"

"No no, that's not what I mean. It's too bad that you'll not be able to join Dylan to celebrate Christmas,"

My father instantly leaped like a crazed beast and pinned me to the bed. I tried to fight the hardest but he's simply too strong and seemingly out of his mind. Then, with a sinister smile, he released his increasingly erect cock from his underwear and let it dangle right on top of my gaped mouth and nose. With precision, he then submerged that fat musty inches of manmeat right to my mouth while his hand held my head to keep my head in its place. His face shown a level of seriousness and rather observant look as I let him have a go with my mouth even though I was fully repulsed by the whole thing. It's like as if despite my mind screaming for help, his presence hypnotized me to not make a scene and let it all happen

As the speed of him pistoning that meat in and out of my mouth increased, I started to sense another presence within me. Something cold and foreign lodged in my throat and I can feel the freezing sensation spread slowly yet surely all across my body. As he grunted and telling me that he's about to cum, the sensation already reached 80% of my body but when the geyser finally exploded, I instantly went blank

---

"Hey Dyl, my father insisted on this so he bought you a ticket to Miami to come join us by the beach! Pack your bag and head down here first, then we'll go to your family's home in Delaware together," texted Brad with a smirk on his face while his left hand busy caressing his docile dad's body. Now it's finally inside the son, it feels truly right at home as the son is more age appropriate to ensure its long-lasting and far-reaching presence on Earth with this overflowing stamina and libido to carryout multiple conversion a day. Dylan's family seemed pretty hot based on Brad's memories of seeing their picture, might be a good way to celebrate Christmas by making all of them just like Brad's dad over here, an empty husk that will do nothing except following the conditions implanted on him

#alien possession #male possession #body a day

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veraghost · 2 years

Text

tag teamed! ❤️‍🔥

𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘢𝘨 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘬𝘺𝘶𝘶 𝘥𝘶𝘰𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 pt. 2

featuring: f!reader, kuroo + kenma, bokuto + akaashi, ushijima + tendou

cw: sub!reader, voyuerism, fingering, dumbification, penatrative sex, online sex?, male masturbation (tendou), creampies, overstimulation, double cerampie?, multiple rounds, praise, if i’ve missed any please let me know

nsfw under the cut, please have ur age in ur bio or i will block you. 18+

masterlist || rules || send in an ask!

ｋｕｒｏｏ＋ｋｅｎｍａ

“baby?” you ask kenma quietly, hoping he hears you through his headphones. when he pulls his headset off, he quickly nods to you, a silent “what’s up” to you. when you explain to him that you miss his company, he pats his lap, and soon enough your straddling his lap, face nuzzled into his neck. but when your this close to him, feeling the heat radiating off his body, you start to become a little horny.

squirming around in his lap, he looks at you sternly - you’re distracting him from his game. you apologize before finding a comfortable position, right on his dick. he notices your issue almost immediately, and pushes a hand into your panties, playing with your clit.

little do you know that he’s not playing alone, and kuroo and hear your little pants and moans through kenma’s headset, and he can’t help but get off with you. kenma stays quiet while you both find pleasure, enjoying the fact that even after all these years - kuroo is still crushing on his perfect girlfriend. when kenma realizes you’re close, he puts his headphones on your ears, letting you hear how good you make kuroo feel.

you’ve never cum so hard in your life.

ｂｏｋｕｔｏ＋ａｋａａｓｈｉ

“fuck, ‘kaashi she feels so tight, so warm and perfect.” bokuto rants on about your pussy - although he’s fucked you so many times, felt your walls clench around his dick, he never seems to get over how perfect you are. akaashi isn’t surprised over, bokuto always ends up talking about your sexcapades when hes drunk, ranting on about how perfect you are.

and keiji can’t wait to sink into you, once bokuto reaches his high, when he fills you up to the brim, keiji gets to fuck it back into your sopping cunt, making you see stars. and that’s exactly what he does, it’s messy and wet and everything you should feel disgusted about, but when akaashi is making you cum again and again on his cock, you can’t help but feel completely blissed out, almost passing out from pleasure.

you don’t know how many times you’ve came by the end of the night, but when akaashi finally fills you up, his cum mixing with bokuto’s, when he accidentally brushes against your clit, you’re almost thankful that it’s over, wincing from overstimulation.

ｕｓｈｉｊｉｍａ＋ｔｅｎｄｏｕ

“look at her eyes, ushiwaka, she’s completely fucked out on you” tendou smirks, a teasing tone in his voice. but you can’t even talk back to him, too lost in the feeling of ushijima’s cock hitting the spongy spot in you so easily, almost hitting against your cervix. it’s almost too much, but you can’t even complain, trying to push his hips to make him slow down, but he’s almost as lost as you are.

and tendou get’s to watch it all happen, stroking his cock on his bed, watching from across the room an ushijima fucks into you. this wasn’t how things were supposed to go - not that you should complain. you had simply gone over to wish ushijima good luck on his game later that night, before spilling juice on your chest and suddenly things escalated from there.

you cum for the umpteenth time, eyes crossing and tongue lolling out of your mouth, and tendou cums at the sight, riding his high out with you. it gives ‘toshi a couple more thrusts before he pushes in one last time and cums, filling you up until it’s spilling out of you.

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icequeenbae · 10 days

Text

Boy Next Door (m) Ch.4 (fin) | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), some altercations, a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 3.7k (pt.4)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

Chapter Masterlist: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author’s note: Yesss, the time has come for the final part of the series to drop~ This is more on the fluffy side tbh, but I hope you find it to be a pleasant ending to this mini-series. As usual, please don't be shy to leave feedback in any way you prefer, I track all of your replies/ reblogs/ asks ❤️ And thank you for giving so much love to my stories, I do appreciate that a lot!!

Tags: @bbh-net @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @lavnderluv @cupreoussyzygy @byunbaek-hyun-04 @blue-rainydays

‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me earlier!!’

Yuki was over for girl’s night, and this time, she wasn’t the only one gushing about her prosperous sex life.

‘I was waiting for test results.’

‘Huh? Test results?’

You realized that you’d just spilled all the beans you didn’t intend to spill.

‘Uh- we didn’t exactly- you know?’

‘What?’ She asked suspiciously, probably not even imagining that you could get so careless.

‘Well…’ You swirled your hand around abstractly.

‘I don’t know what that means- Wait. No, you didn’t!?’ Judging by her lit-up eyes, she guessed right. ‘You little hoe!!’

‘Look who’s talking.’

‘Yes, I’m talking. And I want to know everything. Starting with the result of that test, actually. You stupid hoe.’

Sighing, you rolled your eyes.

‘It’s negative. Thankfully… But it was really stupid of me, I know.’

‘Well, did he at least pull out on time? It’s not a safe option, but the timing is somewhat important…’

‘He did. Although he said, he’s never had sex without condoms.’

‘Damn. I should change what I said to ‘you lucky hoe’! I hope you took that test properly.’

You nodded. That was the first time you had to march into a pharmacy to get pregnancy tests. And you had no clue about how to choose out of the dozens of available options. The only reason you were able to ask for help was that you wore a mask – to save you some face, literally.

But that landed you with a few options and some instructions to follow. You had also gotten your period after your two-day sexcapade with Baekhyun, so you were pretty sure you were lucky this time. But you were still concerned with the long-term options. Something you’d left for the future discussion with your physician.

There were other things on your mind right now.

‘Actually, there’s something else that’s been bothering me.’ You mentioned reluctantly. ‘We haven’t… made it official. I mean- he hasn’t asked me yet. Is that… indicative of anything?’

The thought was bugging you daily.

The words ‘Would you be my girlfriend?’ or anything of the sort, had never left your neighbor’s mouth. And you were the one who shamelessly got drunk, ended up in his bed, made him sleep in it with you, and then… Weren’t you so very eager to jump into having sex with him?

Not to mention that you’d stayed at his place for two whole days, Sunday being filled by more domestic delights, and… Even more sex. It seemed like Baekhyun was focused on you and completely insatiable. You couldn’t remember doing it more than once or twice a day, so you were stunned as you realized you had gone four times. His stamina was surprisingly remarkable.

It was a relief that you had to eventually leave his apartment, for you had to work on Monday. As you ran a bath at your place, you realized how sore and exhausted you were. The fact that just a couple days prior, you got shitfaced was probably a contributing factor, but also, the amount of physical activity was very unusual for your body. Though this was a great type of exhaustion, and you had the deepest sleep that night.

But now, almost two weeks later, you were pretty anxious about how your relationship was progressing. Relaying all of the basics to your friend and asking for her opinion was supposed to make you feel better; however, she shared your concerns.

‘This is weird. So, he had time to sex you up multiple times but not ask you a simple question?’ She frowned. ‘You know how it is here, Y/N… You’re not official until you say the words.’

You knew. And that wasn’t even the only cause for your uncertainty.

‘It’s not only that, but… We haven’t really hung out since.’ You mumbled, expecting a big reaction from your friend.

‘What?! Is the bastard ghosting you??’ She rose from her seat, looking ready to burst into his apartment and give him a piece of her mind.

‘No, he um- he had to go to some distant town for a work assignment. He told me that there might not be any internet connection since they would be on some military base or something like that. He said it would last a bit over a week, and then he’ll visit his family for a few days and get in touch with me from there.’

‘So, has he?’

‘So far… No.’ You admitted.

Yuki huffed, her eyebrows knitting together angrily.

‘Yah. That seems fishy as hell. Why wouldn’t he at least send you a text? Who disappears after having someone over for the entire weekend of fucking??’

‘We weren’t doing it the entire weekend…’ You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up again.

‘Come on! He didn’t ask you to be his girlfriend, disappeared on a ‘mission’ that sounds unrealistic, and hasn’t gotten back to you for almost two weeks? Wow, was I wrong about him.’

You scratched your temple, exhaling hopelessly. She just voiced everything that you thought to yourself. You kept giving him the benefit of the doubt in your head, but she was right. It was too odd for someone to vanish into thin air like this right after what had happened between the two of you. This was the hard truth, and it hit your softest, most vulnerable spot. Your heart.

‘I guess so,’ you muttered, voice a bit scratchy with the inevitable tears you held back. ‘What do I even do now, Yu? I like him a lot, which is precisely why I didn’t want to start anything…’

‘First of all, stop crying. If he decided to do this on purpose, he is a dickhead. And doesn’t even deserve to call you his girlfriend.’

She reached out her hands to wipe the stray tears off your cheeks.

‘Second… You need to grow some balls, Y/N. Don’t let people take you for granted or make you feel less than you are!’ She said in a serious tone. ‘I’ve told you this before: you shouldn’t retreat to your shell when someone attacks. You’re strong, beautiful, and an amazing person, capable of giving them hell if you need to!’

Snorting at Yuki’s passionate speech straight out of some girl power drama, you shook your head.

‘Yes, you are! Stop feeling sorry. If someone hurts you – don’t let them. I don’t mean Baekhyun exclusively. You know you’ve been in various situations lately where defending yourself was vital. Stop being a good, cautious girl who gets into her own head before saying anything. Act the way you want, and if someone is offended – it’s their problem. I’ve seen you speak your mind before, and it was damn powerful. That’s why it’s time that you do it for you.’

It wasn’t hard to guess what she was referring to. You’d been keen on staying collected on the outside and hid your emotions fairly well. You’d never let your struggles show, even when you were going through a difficult time at your previous job. You preferred crying in the restroom during lunch break to letting anyone know. You didn’t want to deal with that. Sad or angry, you processed every thought before opening your mouth and saying something, just because you knew how hot-tempered you could become if you didn’t keep your tongue in check.

However, you did let it slip sometimes, mostly when someone hurt the people you love, as opposed to you. A couple years ago, you had to pick Yuki up from a random party she was stuck at, and there was a guy who made unwanted moves on her. As you arrived at the scene, you had to search the entire house for her until you walked into the kitchen, where the bloke was trying to kiss her while she was shoving him away. You vaguely recalled what you did… grabbing his shoulder to turn him around, kneeing him in the balls without hesitation. Yuki later shared that she sobered up as she heard you swearing excessively at him. You told him everything on your mind, and he was scared to talk back. Apparently, you looked like a force of nature back then.

And although this wasn’t the first time you’d done something like this, it was mostly reserved for someone else. But now that you were contemplating your life… You found that you might’ve been missing the point all along.

‘Actually… You have a point, Yu.’

Your best friend blinked, surprised by your response. She’d been trying to get through to you many times before, and now you finally listened?

‘Why should I always be the one to swallow my pride or feel uncomfortable? I’ve always been a good girl, and where did it get me?’ You wiped your face dry. ‘I’m not gonna do a one-eighty and become a crazy bitch now, but it’s time to let go. I won’t try to reach him or wait for him at the door. If he was one of the bastards who thought I was too boring to have a relationship with, well… Fuck him then. I’m done with feeling bad about myself.’

‘Yay! That’s what I’m saying. You go, girl!’

‘I’m sure I’ll get over him in no time. Yes, we’re neighbors; it’s gonna be awkward. But why should I be the one worried about it? I’ll be sure to let him know I don’t give a shit about him and his stunts if I ever see him again.’

‘That’s the spirit, Y/N-ah! Gosh, this calls for a celebration. Where’s the champagne I brought last time?’

‘I hoped you’d ask. In the fridge.’ You chuckled.

‘Coming right up,’ she winked, already headed to the cupboard to get the glasses.

***

Friday rolled in, having you overcome the struggles of getting work done while having your head elsewhere. Your office hours were so long and miserable that you were dead set on doing your house chores and then going straight to bed tonight. Just to sleep in tomorrow, wake up completely free for the day, and order from your favorite restaurant and chill. If anyone deserved a feast, it was definitely you! Rewarding yourself for getting through the week and spending five minutes not thinking about your personal life was a great achievement in your book. Maybe not great, but a triumph.

Walking up to the entrance, you saw a tall figure there.

It didn’t seem familiar until you were a ten-second walk away. Then you realized – it was that woman. That one who broke into Baekhyun’s apartment while you were there. And the one who called him up about having dinner together at his place.

Your first instinct was to turn around and sneak through another entry point. You hated confrontation, especially in case you didn’t initiate it. At this time, all you wanted was a quiet evening, and it was about to be ruined.

Your pride, however, didn’t allow you to back down. Suddenly, your conversation with Yuki replayed in your mind. She was right; you shouldn’t let anyone treat you that way or make you feel any less. And if you had to withstand a pointless attack, you could simply fire back. With that in mind, you reached the gate.

‘You!’ The voice made you sigh and brace yourself before turning around. ‘It is you! I’ve seen you before.’

‘Congrats,’ you shrugged, ready to walk away.

She grabbed your forearm.

‘Are you going to Baekhyun again?’

‘I find it unlikely that my destination is any of your business. Let go of me.’

She gritted her teeth, squeezing your arm painfully.

‘Listen, whore. I’ve been working on him for months, and as soon as I’ve made progress, you swing by and think you’re-’

‘No, you listen, bitch.’ You ripped out of her grasp, completely fed up with this. ‘I don’t care if you think you’re entitled to have him. But let me tell you this. I live on the thirteenth floor, so if I see you there again, I’m calling the police. Stop creeping around my house and get a life.’

‘You-’

‘Is everything alright?’ You turned to the security, who most likely caught your exchange in front of the gates on CC TV and decided to come check it out.

‘Yes,’ you nodded, pressing your code in and pushing through the entrance. ‘This person is blacklisted on our building, check under Byun Baekhyun. And please make sure she doesn’t sneak in and cause more trouble.’

‘Of course.’ The guard made sure the door was appropriately locked after you.

The woman, whose name you still didn’t know, shouted profanities at your back as you walked away.

You hated confrontation, but this felt good.

Later this evening, you gladly told your best friend about it.

‘Damn, you should’ve called me as soon as you got home! This is so cool,’ she yelled as you relayed the story.

‘I wanted to clean up first. You know we talk for hours… I'm glad I did; I’m sure I’d have zero energy if I had to do it now. I’m already in bed and so sleepy.’

As if to emphasize your point, you let out a loud yawn.

‘How graceful. I am in bed too, but I wish I could see her face when you… Is there a way to get my hands on the security footage?? I’d flirt with your guards just to have a chance to see that!’

You heard someone grumble in the background.

‘I’m sure you’d love to see that footage just as much as me, Seokie,’ she teased.

‘Ew, don’t tell me you’re in bed with Hoseok right now!’

‘What if I am? Jealous?’ She asked, and you rolled your eyes.

‘Sure. I hate you lovebirds.’

‘He’s been eavesdropping on your story about that bitch you put in her place, and he looks impressed.’

‘You go, Y/N-ah!’ You heard Hoseok shout.

‘Thanks,’ you giggled, feeling at ease. ‘That’s at least one source of frustration off my shoulders.’

‘Aw, you’re still upset about that bastard going MIA on you?’

‘I’m trying not to think about it. But… Baekhyun’s either been offline everywhere or has blocked me. I just keep thinking… If it’s the former, what if something happened?’’

‘Oh ,Y/N. I hate that you’re this kind. Next time you see him, tell him off just like his stalker.’

‘I guess,’ you agreed weakly. ‘Anyways, tomorrow is a new day, and I have great plans, so I need to sleep now.’

‘By great plans you mean ordering food and wearing pajamas all day?’

‘You know me so well! Don’t bother coming over, I’m not gonna share. It’s a me-day.’

‘Ugh, what a hoe.’

‘I’m hanging up.’

You put your phone away, giggling at her goodbye growl. She always knew when to tease you to make you relax, and it was one of the reasons you considered her a great friend.

She was always there to back you up and listen to your whining, if needed. At least when you went back to being alone again, you weren’t completely alone.

***

You danced eagerly to the door, ready to pick up your order. It was afternoon, and you were hungrier than a wolf. The delivery guy had just sent you a picture of your package, so you were to simply get it at your doorstep. Which was how you preferred it – living alone as a woman could be slightly creepy, so all contacts with strangers were to be avoided. Your apartment building had great security, but… better safe than sorry.

Thinking all that, you opened the door without checking if the coast was clear. Since you were already crouched to get the package off the floor, you instantly saw a pair of legs in front of you. Male legs. Someone was standing right outside of your door.

You quickly glanced up, meeting the chocolate eyes.

And then grabbed the doorknob, trying to shut the door. But a swift foot in the doorway prevented you from doing so.

‘Whoa, wait a second, Y/N-ah!’

You still wouldn’t budge, so Baekhyun continued.

‘I know what it must’ve looked like, but let me explain. Please, Y/N. I know I fucked up.’

He tried stealing a glance at your face through the crack on the door, but you turned away.

‘Why should I listen to a single word you say?’

‘Don’t you want to know what really happened?’

Trying to make up your mind, you looked down at the package in your other hand.

‘I’ll need five minutes tops to set the table.’ You announced, letting go of the doorknob and allowing him to follow you inside. ‘Be done till then, I don’t wanna spoil my healthy appetite.’

You said that while walking towards the kitchen to get your food out. Baekhyun put something suspicious on the floor and stepped into the kitchen silently.

Expecting him to start the explanation, you huffed.

‘Your time is going to be up before you know it!’

‘I’m sorry.’ He said, voice heavy with guilt. ‘I’m sorry if I made you upset. I know we agreed that I’d stay in touch, and I didn’t. But I promise you I didn’t disappear on purpose.’

You began taking out containers of food from your delivery.

‘My phone was handed in the entire assignment because that base wouldn’t allow any devices inside but our pre-approved laptops. I was planning to text you as soon as I arrived at my family home because when I received my phone back it was dead.’

Listening to him talk, you avoided looking his way. You wanted to process his words without any additional… distractions. It was time to be rational; meeting his warm, guilty gaze again would cost you half of your battle spirit.

‘I left it to charge as soon as I got home, but…’

He made a big, almost theatrical pause.

‘But?’ You nudged, wishing to know the truth.

‘I don’t know how to say this… Uh- Siwoo wanted to take a picture of something outside just to be playful and accidentally dropped it out the window.’

It was your turn to pause. Was he kidding you with that story?? You couldn’t believe he was trying to blame all of this on a child.

Your thoughts must’ve displayed clearly on your face, so he fished his phone out of his back pocket.

It was brand new. It was evident that the model was upgraded, and the color was different, too.

‘I restored the photos from the cloud, I can show you the picture he too—’

The shiny new device was proof enough for you, and you weren’t willing to have him provide you with further evidence of his innocence. Nevertheless, you wanted to make sure he was genuine in his apology.

‘Why couldn’t you at least call our building and ask them to give me a message?’

He stood there, stupefied, for what seemed like an eternity before his expression turned into a sheepish grin.

‘I could’ve… done that?’ He mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

Clearly, the thought had never crossed his mind.

You rolled your eyes and turned to the kitchen counter. The table was set, and you only needed to get the plates. The prettier ones were reserved for the rare occasions when you had guests, so you had to reach for them.

‘Y/N…’ Baekhyun whined, sounding uncharacteristically childish in his desperation. ‘I also brought you an ‘I’m sorry’ present…’

Hearing this made you snap.

‘Why would you do that? It’s not like we’re dating!’

He was taken aback by your words.

‘What do you mean we’re not?’ He asked, completely bewildered. ‘Are you seeing someone else?’

‘No, but-’ It was your turn to mumble. ‘You never asked me…’

Baekhyun looked at you as if you were crazy. Then, his frown transformed into something else.

‘Oh god, Y/N…’ He sighed, leaning on the counter behind you with one hand. ‘I thought it was obvious. I was serious about you from the very beginning, but if you want me to say it, I will say it.’

You waited for him to finish.

‘Please be informed that I’ve considered you my girlfriend this entire time. And I know I fucked up, so… are you gonna break up with me?’

‘I’m debating it,’ you responded gruffly.

‘Y/N-ah,’ He pressed, still hovering over you while his arm inched closer and closer to your frame. ‘I’ll do anything you want to make it up to you.’

Taking in his hopeful eyes, you pointed to the kitchen cabinet.

‘I need plates.’

Following the direction of your index finger, Baekhyun looked up. He reached over you, almost hugging you with one arm, and gave you what you wanted.

‘Thank you.’

He perked up, a question in his eyes. ‘What now?’

Although you were still grumpy, your heart was beginning to warm up to him. So easily.

‘Go sit at the table. I’m hungry.’

Baekhyun’s chocolate orbs instantly lit up.

‘Does it mean you forgive me?’

The hopefulness of his tone made your façade crack.

‘You’ve mentioned a goodie bag?’ You squinted at the huge paper bag he left at the door, just to avoid crumbling right in front of him.

Baekhyun smiled cheekily.

‘It’s all yours. Babe.’

You ignored the term of endearment, turning your back on him to hide your warming cheeks.

‘Get yourself another set of chopst—’

Your boyfriend gave you an abrupt back hug.

‘B-Baekhyun?’

‘I really missed you, Y/N-ie.’ He whispered in your ear, nearly busting your eardrum with a kiss. ‘Also, my entire family wants to meet you…’

‘What?? Already?’

‘Mhm. And here you were, thinking we weren’t even dating,’ he snickered. ‘Once I got you, I’m not letting you go.’

‘You are,’ you huffed. ‘Otherwise, you’re standing between me and food. And I got an appetite, you know?’

‘I know.’ His smile tickled your neck pleasantly. ‘It’s one of the many things I love about you.’

It was impossible to turn into mush faster than you did.

Masterlist

A/N: Okaaaay, we're done with another mini-series!!! Congrats to you and I haha Thank you for following this story till the end <3 And a huge thank you to all of my lovely readers that left their comments to each installment of the series! Ily 💕

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 8 months

Text

Kinks

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~1.7k

Summary: Pietro brings his sister an odd gift

A/N: Continuation of “Out of Commission”

Warnings: mostly fluff, sibling bonding, suggestive content.

Wanda’s confused expression is ignored or not noticed as her brother watches her look at his gift curiously. He'd been in town and ended up in the bookstore looking for something when he'd come across this book. Initially, he’d considered getting it for himself, but then the more appealing idea of getting it for his sister is what made him grab it off the shelf with a wide grin.

“Um, Piet, why?”

The book was a bright purple with equally bright letters for the title. Wanda was still staring at it when her brother reaches out to grab it and starts flipping through it. She assumes he’s read it, but his intentions seem to be more along the lines of showing her how to read a book.

“I thought you could use it to ‘spice up your sex life’ sestra.”

How he said that with a straight face neither Maximoff knew, but Wanda was already grimacing at the idea of Pietro putting any thought into her sex life. That said, he had walked in on her a couple of days ago while she was in bed with you, and got more than an eyeful. She’s very grateful that you’re not here because you’d either join her in confusion or be deeply insulted. Luckily, you’re out with your dog picking up something from the pet store.

Wanda takes a deep breath as she contemplates how to go about refusing her brother’s unique gift. She doesn’t want to consider that he went to the store looking for something like this himself. The less she knows about her brother’s sexcapades the better.

“We’re all good in that department, but thanks?”

At this Pietro finally breaks out into a smile as he watches his sister flush in embarrassment. He’s just teasing because personally he doesn’t want to hear any details at all, but he figured her reaction would be worth it. He laughs and shakes his head at Wanda’s glare before shrugging and flipping to a random page with a picture. He turns it around to show to his sister.

“Are you sure? You don’t need any of this in your life?”

Wanda averts her eyes too late to completely miss the sight of what’s on the page, and she squeezes her eyes shut before shaking her head insistently. Why did Pietro do this to her?

“No! I’m good thanks! Why did you buy this, Piet?”

The older Maximoff shrugs as he considers the real reason why he’d bought the book. He was curious and has currently been having a lot of one-night stands, not that he planned on telling his sister this. Sometimes he thought about settling down with someone like Wanda has, but he’s not rushing. He is happy with his life and his relationship with his family. He sometimes fears that anyone he dated would change the family dynamic too much. That they would somehow keep him from seeing his sister.

He pushes these thoughts aside before returning his focus to his sister and the book in his hands. He smirks before offering his sister a look that she just scowls at.

“I was just being a good brother. Making sure your wife keeps you happy.”

Wanda rolls her eyes as she reaches out to shut the book with a sigh. She doesn’t want this and she doesn’t want to have this conversation with her barely older brother. They didn’t talk about things like this. He just asked general questions about if she was happy and if she wanted anything that she didn’t have. She rarely complained about you, and when she did it was always something silly, quirky. Very rarely did you truly frustrate her.

For this reason, Wanda thinks that her brother is trying to tell her something without actually saying it, and she wants to find out what it is. She frowns as she considers why her brother might look for a book like this. She doesn’t go beyond a few broad ideas that don’t include too much detail, but she dares to wonder if she’s on to something.

“Are you sure you’re not giving this to me because you’ve already read it? Some of this applies to you too, well…never mind.”

Wanda isn’t going to explain this to her brother because God forbid, she gets too detailed a reason for the (as far as she knows) out of character purchase. She’s thought about if her brother would ever settle down, and she’s not sure she can see it. He’s a free spirit and despite being present and dependable for her and their friends, Wanda can’t imagine him bringing anyone else into his life in such a capacity. She would be surprised if he proved her wrong, but she wouldn’t really care. She just wanted him to be happy.

When her brother just scoffs and shakes his head, she’s not sure she believes him. That said she knows better than to push too hard because he’ll simply shut down completely or more likely try to turn it back on her. Wanda briefly considers how you’d feel if she gave you this book. She doesn’t dwell on it because she can’t really imagine a positive reaction from you that doesn’t start with confusion or concern.

“I mean to each their own, Piet. I just have to ask though…are you looking for someone to try all this with?”

She’s not quite serious, but she’s not really kidding either as she watches her brother carefully for his reaction. She’d thought that Pietro had just come to visit her on a Tuesday afternoon to give her an odd gift to tick her off. The longer this went on though she was beginning to suspect that he wanted something from her. Given that they didn’t really talk about feelings much, Pietro tended to beat around the bush when he wanted to talk to her about something, and Wanda put it off for as long as possible until she had to just spit it out when her brother was almost out the door.

When she sees her brother frown and shake his head, Wanda wonders if she’s getting somewhere with all this. She shifts on the couch to give him space to sit down if he wants to, and after a few seconds of silent contemplation he does.

Pietro sighs as he looks around his sister’s rooms and feels his face fall further. He’s happy for his sister and the life she’d been able to build with you. He honestly would have thought that he’d be the one to get married first. Given how busy his sister had been and how hard she worked herself she barely had time to sleep let alone date. As surprising as it was to find out that Wanda was dating you, and as horrible as he’d reacted, he was glad that she’d found you. He just wondered sometimes if he should have tried to do the same thing.

“Pietro. What’s wrong?”

Wanda’s trying a different tactic, but when her brother just shakes his head again, she actually starts to worry. She doesn’t get to try again though before the older Maximoff finally speaks.

“Sometime I think about doing what you did, you know? Finding someone I could spend the rest of my life with.”

Wanda’s surprised to have Pietro admit this. She’s known about his tendency to stick to one night stands instead of dating, and despite it being years later Wanda just let him do his thing. He was an adult, and he acted like it most of the time, and he didn’t need her to mother him. She was only really concerned when he slept with women who got too attached, which happened more often that he’d expect. She wonders if he’s growing tired of having to deal with this, or that maybe he wants more.

He's confirming her suspicions quickly as he sighs in exhaustion and tosses the book aside. He doesn’t really know what he hoped to accomplish by coming to see his sister. He was just stressed and wanted to talk to someone about this. He’d thought about Steve and Bucky, but they wouldn’t really understand his point of view. His sister was the obvious choice, and it only took him two weeks and a trip to the bookstore to gather the courage to come here.

“You make it look so easy, sestra, and Y/n is great. I just-I don’t know if I’d get quite so lucky.”

Wanda’s not really sure of what Pietro means by this. Is he worried about someone accepting his occupation the same way that you eventually had. She would admit that this was the biggest obstacle of her relationship, and it was really the only thing you two had ever fought about. Wanda’s still thinking about how to address her brother’s concern when the older Maximoff speaks up and throws her off.

“She fits in with the family so well, I just don’t know if anyone I found could do the same.”

Wanda offers her brother a smile before she shakes her head at the thought. She would admit that you were one of a kind, and the odds of Pietro finding someone who handled the truth about his life and all that a relationship would entail were slim. He liked how things were right now with the family, but sometimes when he watched his sister and her wife interact, he wants a similar relationship.

“Y/n’s special for sure, but I’m sure you could find someone special too. It just might take some trial and error.”

Pietro sighs in defeat but he nods in agreement as he sits back against the couch. His sister certainly knows what she’s talking about given that she’d lived the hell of trying to find the right person. That said, he realized that if he really did want to put the effort in, he could maybe find the person for him too. He smiles a little before turning to see Wanda watching him with a frown. He just nods mostly to himself before deciding that he might take a break from one-night stands for a while.

“You’re right, for once I guess. Thanks, sestra.”

Wanda rolls her eyes at her brother’s response but she doesn’t comment on it as she looks to the discarded book on the coffee table.

“No problem, but take that book with you please. I don’t want to explain this to Y/n.”

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x y ou #silver springs #silver springs drabble #silver springs au #mob au

127 notes · View notes

rosewould · 2 years

Text

take care; bc

pairing; dom!bang chan x sub, afab!reader

words; 3.5k

genre; idol!au, smut, fluff, sprinkle of angst

warnings; mc is slightly a tsundere (hopefully not too annoying), references to mc and Chan's casual sexcapades, sappy, just regular missionary but I promise it's fun, unprotected sex

preface; what happens when you take two people with differing love languages and throw 'em together??? Read to find out. This was supposed to be a qau, but I decided to make it a thing because I liked it.

Bang Chan is a dependable man. He has to be with so many people counting on him. First, he had his members to look after. Though it can be stressful, it’s rewarding. He wouldn’t mind doing this for a long time. Then came his juniors. They always come ‘round, equipped with questions and requests for advice. Especially the leaders. He views them as his family as well, so it doesn’t bother him one bit. Guess you could say he’s grown accustomed to this role of his.

So when you came around, he had his mentor cap ready. You weren’t under the same company, but he became aware of your existence from the comparisons. Of course the public would compare. You’re both leaders. You both crafted your lineups yourselves. You both are producers. And lastly, most importantly, you guys are strict on how you and your members uphold morals. If you do something wrong, you should apologize for it and promise to do better.

If anyone knows how much is on your plate, it’s Chan. So of course he reached out, just to let you know to call him if you needed anything.

“That’s very kind. I’m doing pretty good, though.” You reply, kind but still forthright.

“Wait, huh?”

You chuckle and it makes Bang Chan want to groan. People just couldn’t be this productive, this perfect, and be doing “pretty good”. That’s simply not how humans work. Look at your goddamn smile accompanying your perfect laugh.

“I kinda think balancing everything is… enjoyable? I don’t know, that sounds crazy.” You look to be processing your thought since you don’t even believe it yourself. Your eyes wander before you nod. “Yeah, it is enjoyable. I guess I like being busy.”

Bang Chan is still short-circuiting, his head still cocked to the side, brows furrowed with his mouth hung open. After trying and failing to understand, he falls back on “Huh?”

“I know, I think it’s weird too.” You shrug before the corner of your lips quirk up. You look content with the bomb you just dropped on Chan. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but the stress seems neverending. It’s unhealthy at this point. The fact that you could balance all that, with more members as well, and still look and claim to be so calm is beyond him. “Sometimes I feel like I was just built for this lifestyle, you know?” You say, gesturing vaguely before looking at him for confirmation.

Built for being pushed to and beyond your limits with minimal rest, food, and mental health care? Who possibly could be made for that? Subconsciously, Chan came to two different potential conclusions. The first didn’t feel great when it materialized in his brain.

Maybe you weren’t working as efficiently.

He immediately felt like an asshole for even thinking it, but after days of thinking after he bumped into you, he knew in his heart there was a hidden explanation. So he sat down to talk to you, leader to leader. He told you how he chose his members and asked you how you chose yours. You hum as you think, looking down at the dining room table in your dorm. You splay your hands out on the table.

“Twelve is a lot, and it’s hard to pull off a lineup with that many members and it not feel bloated.” You start, narrowing your eyes as you wrangle your thoughts. “For so long I kept comparing each girl to the concept I was briefed on and being completely lost. I only had five girls. Then I realized I had to stop worrying if they fit the concept perfectly. What matters is if the members complement each other.” You slide your hands together as a visual aid for your explanation.

“I spent hours watching and rewatching the videos of the girls displaying their talents. I got a good feel of what each of my five brought to the group and what was missing. I picked the rest based on what I thought our lineup lacked and from there, I focused on making sure no one stuck out like a sore thumb. Sometimes I even considered removing myself.” You look up from the table as you snort. He meets your eyes with utter captivation written on his face.

“Please continue.” He urges excitedly.

“Okay, well I realized it was okay for two members to stay in the lineup together even if they were really different. As long as there were enough girls there to complement each of them, therefore balancing everything out. Does this make sense? I feel like I’m all over the place.” Your shoulders slump as doubt tugs at your features.

“Oh, definitely. This is actually pretty impressive,” Because he expected you to half-ass it. Of course you weren’t. He could tell from each video he watched of you. The way you carried yourself. How you spoke. The way you keep your members in line while not seeming the least bit cold. Someone doing a piss poor job would’ve displayed signs of inadequacy, at least a small one. No, you were spotless.

He could tell through the screen from your confident, captivating smile. It was even more apparent when he saw you in person for the first time. You were a star. You shined brighter than most other idols. You stood taller. You were the definition of promising. When Chan looks at you, he can’t help but want you to stay that way. He’s seen what this industry could do to people, and the thought of it one day taking your smile away… he just didn’t want to witness that.

His eyes followed you as you wandered into the kitchen. You were always up and running around, barely taking a moment to rest. You had frequented his dorm enough to traverse his kitchen no problem.

“Ooh, do you want some dakgalbi? Maybe I can make some kimbap on the side, too.” You look back at him excitedly as you pull out a package of chicken from the fridge. No way you’re a good cook as well. Do you cook for your members?

“Here, let me help.” Chan says, feeling restless watching you.

“Half of the things you’ve said to me involved the word “help”.” You laugh. He ignores you, already standing next to you in the kitchen. As he chops vegetables, he can't help watching you gather everything you need. So busy.

“At the end of the day do you just collapse into your bed? Not even taking off your clothes or anything-”

“No,” You shout over him, “I take a shower and do my nightly skincare routine. Then I read a book and go to sleep.” You give him a self-satisfied look on your way to set seasonings on the counter. He hadn’t even factored in your flawless skin. That’s a good way to describe you. Lacking flaws.

It reminded him of his second explanation he had yet to explore.

You were lying.

Once the food was finished, you dust your hands off before letting out a deep exhale. “Okay. Time to clean!”

“Absolutely not.” Chan says pushing you out of the kitchen. You protest and fight against him, but there’s no use with those muscles. You huff and cross your arms, watching as he starts putting the ingredients away.

“What, you think I can’t handle a couple of dishes?”

“Yeah.” He says simply, not sparing you a glance as he shelves the spices. You scoff and waltz back into the kitchen.

“I’m not a child, you know.”

“I never said that, it’s just,” Chan sighs, dropping his hands by his sides. “Do you do all the cooking and cleaning at your dorm as well?” He turns toward you as he inquires.

“Yes. It’s a part of my schedule, I try to do it every day.”

“Oh my god!”

“It’s not that big of a deal, I’ve told you so many times I like being busy!”

“So, what, you’re gonna add cooking and cleaning for Stray Kids onto your schedule?” He suggests as a joke but when you shrug, he rolls his eyes.

“I’m joking. I wanted to cook, so I cooked. It would be rude to leave a mess behind.” You approach him and swipe the pan from his hands. “Now let me clean up after myse-”

“Ah~” Chan lifts a slice of kimbap to your mouth and pops it in. You close your mouth around it awkwardly and gawk at him in disbelief. He swipes the pan back with a smirk. The words you’re saying are a garbled mess so Chan just pushes you away again. “Go sit down and eat. I’ll make you a plate and deal with the mess.”

You clumsily swallow the half-chewed food as you twist yourself around, this time able to successfully resist.

“Hey- You!” You point your finger in his face as you plant yourself directly in front of him. “Stop it!”

“Oh calm down. I promise a little rest won’t hurt you.” He pats your head. What, just because he’s been a leader for longer than you he thinks he can boss you around and tell you how to live?

“You wanna know what I think?” You step forward, not anticipating how close his face would be.

“What’s that, baby girl.”

The name nearly knocks the wind out of you. You falter for a moment, but remain steadfast. “I think you just can’t handle that I function differently. Everyone doesn’t go about their life the same way you do.”

Chan hisses derisively, leaning his head slightly to look down at you. “Is that so?”

“Yes! I don’t need to be coddled, Chan!” Your confidence is back at full volume as you stare back at him. Chan raises his eyebrows before setting the pan on the counter.

“I don’t look to coddle you,” Chan says as he repositions himself at his previous proximity. “I just wanna lighten some of your load.” His voice gets softer as he brings his hand up to brush a piece of hair out of your face. He tucks it behind your ear and his hand lingers longer than you expect. His hands are warm and despite their callouses, inviting. All of a sudden the fire fueling you to glare back at him was weaning, and looking into his eyes didn’t feel as uncomplicated. You blink, mouth fumbling over a rebuttal. What was it you were going to say again?

“Just tell me how I can make things easier for you.” He lowers his voice even further, bringing his face closer to yours. Your noses almost touching.

“I-I don’t need things to be easier. I’m doing just fine, why can’t you accept that?” You ask, genuinely stumped. Chan seems to finally understand why you were so adamant. He shuts his eyes with a sigh.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’ve been undermining what you’re capable of, haven’t I?” His thumb strokes your cheek and you can’t help but flutter your eyes shut. Your heart is beating so intensely against your chest you fear something may be wrong. “I should’ve been more mindful of how I was making you feel.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” You say unconvincingly. To your dismay, his warmth is suddenly gone. You open your eyes to see him staring to turn away.

“Since I helped make the mess, I’ll help clean. You can kick me out-”

You grab his arm, pulling him back toward you. He looks at you in confusion.

“I didn’t say to stop touching me.” It was a sad final attempt at trying to keep your walls raised. When Chan laughs at you, you can’t help but feel piteous. He notices the look on his face and sighs, raising his hands back to your cheeks.

“Was that your sad attempt at asking for attention, baby?” He raises his eyebrows, dark eyes questioning you. You panic, looking away as your cheeks start to feel warm. God– wait, your cheeks. Can he feel how hot they’re getting? You groan, clenching your eyes shut.

“You’re always so confident no matter what, and now you can’t even look at me.” He sounds surprised. He raises your head and you hesitantly open your eyes. You’re greeted with his dimpled smile crinkling his eyes and your overactive heart seemingly freezes at the sight. “I have no problem doing this for you.” He rests his forehead against yours. You can’t deny it anymore. It feels so right. But it wasn’t enough.

“Just this…” You say, voice barely above a whisper. You clear your throat. “And more of it.”

A smile tugs at Chan’s lips. “I think I can manage that.” The next thing you register is his lips on yours. You soften into him, feeling weightless.

You still never admit when you were struggling, but Chan can feel it. You’re a completely different person when he’s inside you. Hell, the moment his skin touches yours you become completely pliant. You make no effort to be in control, instead yielding it all to him. And Chan happily accepts it.

All of your noises are high-pitched, breathy, and soft. You shut your eyes tight while he fucks you. God forbid you open them, it takes a lot of convincing to get you to look at him. It’s a side of you he’s never seen before. One that disappears as quickly as it appears.

Outside of his bedroom you’re still that flawless go-getter with her head held high. The two of you barely talk about your escapades until you ask for it.

“Touch me please,” or something along those lines is all you say, maybe with a grab of Chan’s hand to boot. It doesn’t matter how many times you say it, it makes his day every single time. He knows better than to laugh now. You’re already so self-conscious about asking. If your voice were any quieter when you did, he fears he wouldn’t hear you at all.

The more time he spends with you, the more he understands why. The reason is still unknown to him but he came to realize you have a hard time opening up. It may be because you don’t like burdening people, it could be something deeper. He didn’t feel the need to pry. It was more than enough to watch you unravel underneath him.

You were waiting politely on the bed behind him. He smiles softly, resuming his work so he can finish and start your usual routine. With one last click of his mouth he exhales loudly and spins around to face you. He stretches his hands high, loosening up after being in the same position for hours. He sits and waits, knowing you prefer to come to him on your own. So he just rests his hands behind his head with a stupid grin. You take a deep breath before speaking.

“Can you come here?” You murmur, so utterly unaware of the puppy dog eyes you sport each time you ask him for something. You were so fucking cute.

“Of course baby.” When Chan approaches you it’s like you start to magnetize. His proximity draws you closer to him. It’s impossible not to have your hands on him all the time. The moment he grabs you and swings you over his lap, the air changes. He engulfs you in a big, tight hug and you instantly melt. The air you inhale feels fresher. You hug him back and curl your fingers into his shirt. As you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck you feel completely engrossed. When you closed your eyes, it was like you were floating.

“I need to be taken care of today.” You gasp against his skin as you circle your arms around him tighter. So tight that Chan can’t pull back to check if he was hearing things. “You what?”

You still don’t pull back, but you wait a beat before repeating yourself. “Please take care of me. I really need it.”

Chan feels like someone was squeezing his heart. He was having trouble breathing correctly. This was an advancement he couldn’t ruin, so he wordlessly flipped you onto your back. He positions himself in between your legs and captures your lips. You kiss him back with so much passion, more than he’d ever received from you. It was becoming harder to not let on how much your words moved him.

“I’ll take care of you baby, just relax.” Breathes against your lips before slotting his in between them again. You’re already making small noises, sweet gasps and sighs after each kiss. He was scared to say so, but there was no denying how needy you were. It was rubbing off on him.

He reaches down in an attempt to rid you of your sweatpants without disconnecting. He sighs frustratedly when it doesn’t work and pulls away. You whimper at the loss of warmth and he stops to look at you. Your eyes were glassy, lips swollen, brows slanted. It takes you lifting your legs for him to remember what he was doing. Chan doesn’t take his eyes off you when he slides them off, so he almost misses that you have no underwear on. “Fuck,” He swears sharply as his cock throbs. Arousal throngs through him so intensely he thinks he’ll pass out. Then he looks up at your pitiful expression.

“Please.” You ask weakly.

He can’t stop himself anymore. His lips are on you after mere seconds, drinking in all your noises. “I’ll do anything for you.” He manages in the small window of time you’re not completely devouring each other.

He shoves his own sweats as far down as he can without pulling away. Feeling his hot tip brushing against your mound drives you even more mad. You’re buzzing from how much you need to feel him. To feel full and embraced.

Chan swipes his cock through your folds and lets out a shuttered breath. You’re dripping. He slides in so easily that he’s already fully sheathed inside you the moment he pushes in. “Holy shit…”

You throw your head back and let your mouth drop open. You finally manage to push out a wanton moan after a few seconds of still silence, the two of you letting the pleasure sink in. Chan sounds desperate and filthy when he groans. He’s impossibly hard and stiff inside you. Everything just feels so right it leaves you both wondering why it feels so good this time around.

You’re so wet and tight around him he can’t help but hiss as he rocks his hips back. By the time he pushes in again both of you are moaning messes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Chan squeezes, finally picking up a steady rhythm. Each time he thrusts into you it’s heavy with an obscene slap and squelch filling both your ears. It’s the perfect amount of pressure to send you reeling, make you curl your toes and buck your hips. You weren’t quiet and breathy anymore. Your moans were loud and full, resonating in your chest and filling the quiet room.

It fuels every languid roll of Chan’s hips. Every time he pulls back, he feels how much you’ve coated his shaft. The cool air hits it and makes him want to stay balls deep inside you forever, surrounded by your warm wetness.

He slides his knees forward, pushing himself further inside you. He pulls back less, instead grinding against you. It was like he read your mind. He was closer now, chest pressed against yours with one of his hand caressing your face. You look up at him. No hesitation or shying away from his gaze. He’s able to look into your eyes as he makes love to you.

Tears were streaming down your face and he kisses every streak they left behind. Your heart feels like it’s expanding from all the affection. Your moans are becoming more frantic and desperate as you hug him closer to your body. You chant his name between trembling breaths. He shushes you, planting soft kisses on your lips.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He’s putting up a front as if he’s not about to fall apart as well. “Just let go for me.”

You push your tongue inside his mouth, eager to taste him. His tongue massaging yours was exactly what you needed. You whine as your hips jerk against him, dissolving into pure pleasure. You feel dizzy, crying out as you cum around his cock. You tug him by his shirt and he gets the message. He wraps his arms firmly around you, his strong biceps making you feel secure. With a few more lewd moans, Chan is spurting hot bursts of cum into your swollen hole. You shudder against him, thin whines floating from your lips.

Chan continues to kiss you as you come down, whispering soothing words until your eyes flutter shut. He stops to lean back and look at you. You look so blissful. He always thought you looked calm, but perhaps he didn’t quite know what a calm expression truly looked like on you. He could tell you were about to drift off to sleep.

“Thank you.” You breathe. He smiles before kissing the tip of your nose. “You don’t need to thank me.” He brushes his thumb over your cheek bone, looking down at you fondly.

“I’ll always be here to take care of you.”

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

#800 #bang chan #stray kids #kpop #chan #skz #smut #fluff #angst #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #kpop smut #skz smut

877 notes · View notes

lolahasmoxie · 1 year

Text

I'll Tumble for You - E.M.

WORD -

WARNING - Mentions of smut, mentions of injury, fluff, drugs

Random thought. Enjoy!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Sitting in an emergency room on a Friday night wasn't how you had planned for your weekend to start. Yet here you were, wearing Eddie's boxers and a hooded sweatshirt, as you waited for the doctor to come in with your x-ray results.

"Eddie, get out of there." you chided as your boyfriend started looking through the various cabinets in the waiting room. He turned with a slightly guilty look before sitting next to you.

"Can't help it; we've been here forever."

"Yeah, no thanks to you!" you grumbled as he took your hand. "I told you to put the grips on the shower floor, but no, you said we would be fine." Before Eddie could offer a rebuttal, the door opened, and a doctor appeared.

"Sorry about the wait; so I have a few questions before I give the diagnosis. You told the triage nurse that you fell in the shower?

"Yeah," you started as you absently rubbed your leg. "we just got a new tub and haven't had a chance to put down some grips." The doctor nodded in sympathy as he wrote a few notes on your file.

"Yeah," Eddie interjected. "We need to put some down before we decide to get freaky deeky in there again for sure." Eddie turned to look at you and felt his face drop when he noticed your absolutely horrified expression. He then looked to the doctor, who barely contained his laughter as he made another note on the chart.

"Well," the doctor said, coughing to cover up his laughter. "X-rays don't show tears or a break, so it looks like a nasty sprain. Stay off the leg for a week, and use ice and ibuprofen as needed. The nurse will be in shortly with dismissal paperwork and a pair of crutches." You nodded to the doctor, your hands playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. He paused at the door, turning to face you and Eddie. "And my advice, no more shower sex."

Eddie gave the doctor a thumbs up; you buried your face in your hands and muttered "jesusfuckingchrist" under your breath. Eddie's hand rubbed your back when the door closed.

"See, baby, you'll be fine in no time!"

"You realize we need to move and change our names now, right?" You looked between your fingers at Eddie and frowned. "And could you please wipe that shit-eating grin off your face while you're at it?"

"C'mon," he said before moving to sit between your legs. His warm hands came to rest on your calves, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your skin. "So the doctor knows we have a healthy, invigorating sex life. It's not a big deal,"

"You're not the one who got an injury during sex, asshole," you said with a groan.

"At least the slip happened after you came, right?" He giggled when you smacked his shoulder, but he knew there was no real anger behind it, not with the small upturned smile on your face. "C'mon, we'll be out of here in a jiffy, and then I'll take you home and order a pizza, ok?"

You nodded and continued to make small talk while you waited for your paperwork and crutches. Eddie kept trying to reassure you that no one would find out about your little sexcapade, but when the nurse walked in, you both knew that wouldn't happen.

"You going to stew in silence the rest of the ride home?" Eddie asked as you headed back to the trailer.

"No one will find out; you're being paranoid," you said as you parroted Eddie's words back at him, arms crossed across your chest.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that Ashley Bennett was a nurse?" he asked as he turned into Forest Hills. The biggest gossip from Hawkins High had apparently returned home after graduating from Indiana University. After speeding out of the room, you knew she hadn't outgrown the habit of being a horrible gossip.

"Name change. We have to change our names and move now."

"Babe, we are not moving or changing our names." Eddie parked the van in front of the trailer, both of you noticing Wayne's pickup. Eddie hopped out of the van, then ran to the passenger side to help you.

"Hey, you two," Wayne said as he descended the trailer steps. "I came over when Eddie called. Everything is all finished; what the hell happened to her?" Wayne asked as he pointed at you.

"You called Wayne?" you asked, mortified.

"Had to," he replied before turning back to his uncle. "She tripped in the shower and sprained her knee. Can you stand in front? I'll get behind her while she goes up." Wayne nodded as Eddie placed the crutches under your arm. It was slow going, but with the Munson men covering you, you made it up the stairs in one piece.

"There you go, sweetheart," Wayne said as you plopped on the sofa. "All this from a fall?"

"Well, we were having sex when she fell," Eddie interjected from the kitchen.

"OH MY GOD, EDWARD!" you yelled at him, face again buried in your hands.

"And that's my cue to leave," Wayne said with a straight face. "Don't use the shower for 24 hours; you gotta let them dry first before you use it again. I'll call tomorrow." With a wave, he bid you both farewell, and once the door was closed, you could hear Eddie finishing up on the phone with your favorite pizza place.

"Babe, you ok? Do you need anything? Pillows, meds?"

"How about a new boyfriend who doesn't tell his uncle I got injured having sex with his stupid nephew." you groaned as you rested against the back of the sofa. You glanced back at Eddie, a lovesick look on his face as your brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, what did Wayne mean about letting them dry first?"

"I called him while you were getting your x-ray," he said as he helped you place your leg on the coffee table. He placed a pillow under your knee, his hand resting on your thigh. "I asked him to come over and put down those shower decals since I was an asshole and didn't do it the first time."

"You make it really hard to stay mad at you, you know that, right?" you asked as you reached out to cup his chin. Like a big overgrown cat, he hummed in contentment and leaned into your touch.

"Can't have my best girl mad at me," he said softly. "Now, the pizza should be here in about 30 minutes. What could we possibly do to pass the time?"

"I'm pretty sure you have something planned," you replied with a slight grin.

"You know me so well," he said as he retreated to your bedroom and returned momentarily with his rolling tray and supplies. He sat next to you on the sofa and put an arm around your shoulder, kissing your temple softly. "First, I'm going to roll us a joint. Then we're going to dine on some pizza," you paused as he leaned in and nuzzled his nose against your cheek.

"And then?" you asked softly, turning your head until your lips were just inches apart.

"I know you're still mad at me for having no filter, so I plan on eating you out until you either forgive me or pass out."

"I love you, even if you are a freaking loud-mouthed butthead," you muttered, leaning in and kissing your boyfriend.

"Love you too, Princess."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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theemporium · 8 months

Note

Imagine this Charlos origin story:

You’re Charles’s shy!girlfriend and everyone thinks you have such a cute vanilla relationship ,when in reality you’re ✨super freaky✨, like so opposite from how you present that during a break on media day, Charles starts spilling your sexcapades, and Carlos thinks he’s just messing with him; there’s no way sweet, innocent you could be that wild. And later when he gets back to the hotel and in the middle of riding him, Charles says something like, “Oh, if only Carlos could see how dirty you really are. He wouldn’t believe his mind.” And you’re like, “So show him.” So Charles manages to text him, “emergency, come quick” ;) and he has Charles’s extra key. Poor Carlos bursts through the door in a panic but freezes when he sees you absolutely wrecked, like tears streaming down your face, screaming in ecstasy, and he just stands there in awe with the door open. Charles looks up and they lock eyes, then he grunts between thrusts, “Either in or out, mate, just shut the damn door.”

-✨

GABSAHJAABIhqjshshash🫠

okay but afterwards carlos just doesn’t know how to act around you. like he sees you watching him from the other side of the garage and he instantly gets kinda flustered because he thinks it’s a one time deal but he can’t stop thinking about the two of you and how he wants more

and imagine you’ve kinda cleared it with charles, but maybe carlos has a bad race and dnfs early so he’s sitting in his driver’s room all pissed off and angry

and you come in and he’s kinda like, “I don’t wanna talk to anyone right now”

and you shut the door and lock it behind you before being like, “we don’t have to talk”

and you walk over and straddle his lap and he’s so confused and horny and just lost and your hands are on his chest and you’re leaning in and suddenly you’re telling him to take out all his frustrations on you (maybe even telling him to take some photos/videos so charles isn’t upset he missed out)

and carlos just absolutely WRECKING you before being like, “oh my god I can’t believe I did that, I just fucked my friend’s girlfriend”

and you’re just kinda giggling because you two have been trying to seduce him for months and he’s not picking up on it😭

#cece answers #charlos.thots #✨.anon

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nashusglasses · 8 months

Text

2. i'll work it physical (m)

+ based off nsfw prompts: 28. “I’ll make it worth your time.” & 15. “Wanna bet?”

read: part one

note: I am a glutton for horny idiot stories. Even better when they feed off each other’s energy so bad it’s just like…. Constant enabling. GOADING. That’s the word!!!! I listened to loveeeeeee song by rihanna the whole time writing this if ur into that :3

note 2: This fic is just pure indulgence of oc and gojo's party sexcapades before all those *feelings* get involved heheheheh

PAIRING. gojo/reader SETTING. college au WARNINGS. stupid ex girlfriends, good ol' fashioned fingerbang in a bathroom SUMMARY. He’ll make you forget about her.

You didn’t cry when Emi broke up with you. She was always taciturn, and it’s not as if you were completely blindsided, either. You’ve always had a nose for disinterest. She’d stopped responding to your good night texts those last few weeks you were together, kept canceling Wednesday cafe dates where you’d play footsies to distract her from doing homework. Maybe you’d reached a threshold. Footsied her to annoyed oblivion, but she always laughed whenever you did it.

Throwing away an almost-one year relationship, though. You couldn’t lie through the sting in your eyes when you got back to your dorm that night. Not when Natsume’s a nosy bitch who has to know every minute detail of your life. You collapsed into a fit of half-sobs because you refused to be too distraught over someone who couldn’t find the time for you anymore. That’s lazy, Natsume said into your hair. You always liked when she petted your head for comfort. She let you sleep next to her while you wallowed in post-break up misery. I’ll punch her the next time I see her.

That was two months ago. Two months since you’ve seen Emi’s dyed-blonde head, the pretty dimples that came with her smile. It changes tonight.

Sigma Phi is never cheap with their ragers. Neither you or Natsume are in a sorority but you’d be dumb to miss out on sponsored alcohol and free cool ranch Doritos. The house is the tallest on Greek row, all high ceilings and shiny wooden banisters. The kitchen is where you keep comfortable. Away from the strawberry smoke, sticky floors everywhere you take a step. You’re waiting for Satoru to get you your soju when you see Emi walk through the front door.

Her roots are growing out. She’s got glitter on her eyelids, a shiny neck with the scented oil she uses because she’s always hated using perfume. If you step close enough you know she’ll smell like rose petals. Like the sailor’s bewitched limbs twitching with every sweet note of that siren’s song, you’re almost taking a step forward to follow her further into this stupid loud party.

As if he’s cued, Satoru gets in the way with two red cups in hand. “No yogurt soju so I got orange instead. Mixed it with orange soda so it’s ultra mega orange shit. Why the hell are you tiptoeing? You’re like two feet tall.”

“Shut up.” You make a grab for the cup he offers you, tipping back a generous gulp for a show of thanks. “It’s—I saw someone. I think.”

He swivels around. “Who?”

“My ex.” You almost flinch at the term. Moreso at the thought of Satoru calling you bitchless than having lost someone you genuinely cared for.

“Didn’t know you had one.” His eyebrows are furrowed with confusion, leaning back against the counter. He flicks an annoyed hand at the stale chips scattered everywhere.

“It’s. Yeah. She wasn’t really around to show face towards the end, so.”

“What’s her name?”

You could think of a million but you don’t feel like spitting venom. You’ve got your distraction for the night. You hope Satoru notices you’re wearing your shortest skirt. “Emi.”

“Emi? Utada Emi or Hirano Emi?”

“The first one.” How he knows more than one is beyond you. Satoru hums at your confirmation.

“She’s in my aerodynamics class,” he says. “What happened?”

“I don’t—I don’t really wanna talk about her.” Because if you do, you’ll probably start thinking about how she made your pillows smell good with that fresh linen scent. Or how she left you little origami cranes on your desk. Or the way she sounded in the morning with drool stuck to her chin—

“Oi.” Satoru snaps his fingers in front of your face. “You good? Sorry I asked.”

“It’s fine. Or. Not really. Whatever.” You finish your drink with record speed. Anxiety crawls through your chest, makes you wonder what the hell Emi could be doing here. Or who she could be doing here. Suddenly you think about an empty room, her clumsy feet traipsing up those carpeted stairs. Looking at someone else with doe eyes like she did when she wanted you on top of her. You crush the red plastic in your hand.

“Satoru,” you say blankly.

He’s not even halfway done his drink. “Uh huh.”

“Do you know how to make a girl come in five minutes?”

“Depends.” He levels you with a curious stare. Like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’ve got for a challenge. “Can I use my hands?”

“Whatever body part you want.”

“Then yes. Who’s asking?”

“Wha–who the hell else?” You hiss. “You finishing that?”

Satoru looks down at his cup, then back up at you. And when he doesn’t immediately respond you just swipe at his hand to guzzle down the ultra mega orange shit. It’s not half-bad. A sweetness easy to swallow, not like the Casamigos he took with Suguru earlier.

You let the dizziness settle. Satoru stares you down. “I’ll do it in two,” he says. “Wanna bet?”

It’s cryptic. And then you remember what you asked him. You squirm with the heavy suggestion.

“Bathroom,” you order, and Satoru leads the way first.

Natsume’s sitting pretty at the bottom step of the stairs. She’s got a blunt pinched gently in her mouth, lights up with her inhale when she sees you. She dims into gossip when you come up to her. “Oh my god. Did you see–”

You nod, not that keen on hearing her name when you’re off to forget it. Satoru skips past and up two steps at a time with nothing more than a hey roomie. Natsume’s mouth quirks up in acknowledgment.

“Don’t scream too loud. Or do anyway. I can’t feel my fucking fingers from the music.”

She slaps your ass when you pass her. “Take a shot with me after,” you call. Natsume winks. Satoru’s got the bathroom door wide open for you to walk through when you catch up.

For a frat, the space is clean. No nasty caulk jobs and the toilet paper holder’s actually full. You’ve got no time for more analysis when Satoru slams you against the door. “Jesus,” you groan.

He swallows what little else you have for complaint. His mouth is sweet on yours, coaxing your tongue for taste. “Nice skirt by the way.”

Satoru’s hands are greedy where they pull. Cupped under your jaw, teasing a touch on either side of your tits, then right down to your ass where he squeezes. Hard.

“Keep going,” you mumble. Biting down on his lip when he grips you tighter, and you feel the coarse rut of his boner when he presses you harder against the door. “God. Get me wet.”

“I’ll make it worth your time.” He breathes wet kisses on your neck. Sucking deep till you twitch in simmering pleasure.

“You fuckin’ better.”

He sneers in response. But he kisses you like he’s just as electrified. Needy for whatever high he’s promising to deliver on, and you want it fast. He juts into you, lifts your leg around his hip just to get the angle right.

“Okay. Fuck–just.” You take his hand, fit it snug where your panties ride up on your pussy. He laughs against your teeth.

“Get me wet,” he mocks, playing with the arousal you just denied. You blush. Desperate measures. You’re glad your body responds to his this quick. Only to your detriment, because he knows you’re terrible at bluffing, and now he’s laughing at you. “You’re funny. Two minutes?”

He circles your clit with a rough finger. Too much, not enough. In the haze of your muddled head, the visual is enough to spark that heat. You’ve always liked his hands. There’s something about seeing it disappear under your skirt, like you’ve got something to hide. You offer a moan when he teases a finger inside.

Satoru leans a hot mouth into your ear. “Your girl ever get you like this?”

Your eyes are wide open. From his provocation, and now he’s got one finger snug up your pussy. “Oh my god.”

“You don’t need to answer,” he teases. “I know she didn’t.”

“You–” He sets a slow rhythm. Deep where it counts, grinding the palm of his hand till you moan from your chest. “You’re evil.”

Again. He knows you’re bluffing. That wet sound every time he moves is proof enough. You’re just talking because you’re not embarrassed anymore. You’ll let him have his way with it if it means you don’t have to think about anything else.

“Don’t be shy,” he prods.

Another finger, this time with less drive. You buzz from the intrusion. Knocking your head back on the door when he bottoms out, absolutely not shy with the sounds you’re making. Satoru kisses you into muted excitement.

You don’t think he’s timing it. You sure as hell aren’t. As if you were ever scared he wouldn’t deliver. “Go faster,” you urge. This is probably one of the only two bathrooms available for use. You could at least taint it quicker than anyone else can.

“Cute. I like when you’re bossy.” You initiate a kiss this time. Slipping tongue and an indulgent moan down his throat, and that’s what spurs him on.

His drive is back. Drawing out more wetness with earnest fingering, the guttural noises straight from your gut. Your eyes roll back with the feeling, heat unfurling faster than the blood trying to reach your fucked out brain.

“Fuck, oh my god.” Your fingers curl into his biceps. “That's–yeah, oh my god I’m. Close–!”

He crowds you in again, forehead on your sweaty one. Nothing to say, letting your panting do all the talking for the both of you. His fingers hook into every wet spot, ramming the edge of his hand on your clit till it’s battered into ultra-sensitivity. You twitch with his every move.

“You better fuckin’ come over tonight,” Satoru groans. You’ll look down at that hard dick later. You know he’s fostering the pain with quiet lips. How considerate.

“W-Whatever. Yes I’ll–just–oooh fuck.” He’s jacked the speed to eleven. No more pretense of easing you into it. The sound is enough to get you off, wet thrust for wet thrust. “Satoru,” you whine.

He kisses your nose. “Hmm?”

“If I squirt it’s on you,” you warn.

“You say that like a threat.” He shows no sign of stopping, too. He’s impatient with anticipation, and you’re fading fast. “You’ll give it to me?”

You were kidding. Sort of. It’s not off the table. All you know is the heat is building and you’re about to explode. “Ye-es!”

“So do it,” he presses.

He curls his fingers with every sharp jut against your core. You hang your head low, letting that high come to you, and you unfurl with the release. Shaking through a tiring orgasm, clawing tight on Satoru while you squeal. “Oh fuck.”

He’s relentless with the come down. Drawing out those waves with taut fingers, focusing deep. You don’t squirt but his wrist is disgustingly wet.

“You’re hot,” he says when you drop your leg. You slump against him with a groan. “Look. Prune fingers.”

You don’t look but you know he’s wiggling them. Always in awe with what he can do to you when you’re down for it. You’ll let him bask in your orgasmic glory, because you’re just as good as getting him undone.

“Yeah yeah. Let’s get back, I wanna see Natsume before we leave.”

You shift your skirt till it's decently covering your ass again. Satoru washes his hands. You both ignore the bulge in his sweatpants.

Then someone knocks on the door.

You think you’ve always believed in fate. Some cosmic divinity keeping a watchful eye on whatever energy waves you’re spreading out into the universe. Because when Satoru opens the door for you, it’s Emi, and she’s looking disheveled, but not in a good way.

A pang of sympathy echoes in your chest. Your fingers twitch forward, already thinking of how to move her hair behind her ear.

Satoru beats you to a greeting.

“You look like shit,” he jests.

Emi ignores him. Stares right at you, and your breath stutters. You’re not as taken by her beauty, this time. Not when she shot you down, dug her heel into your heart, got it all muddy. You grab Satoru's hand. He doesn’t say anything when you curl your fingers into his.

“Take care of yourself,” is all you croak out. This time, it’s you leaving her behind.

Natsume’s gone from her bottom perch. You don’t feel like finding her anymore. Satoru keeps you close to him when you walk back downstairs.

He stops you when you don’t stop walking towards the front door. For the second time tonight, he asks: “You good?”

You shake your head. “No. But we’re going back to your place. Distract me some more.”

Satoru’s smile is wicked in its suggestion. “I can do that,” he confirms.

He doesn’t let go of your hand the whole way back to his dorm.

#gojo scenario #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk scenarios #jjk x reader #gojo scenarios

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