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#read some fic or watch chopped
geometricalien · 9 months
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤
awww thank you for including me. this has just been sitting in my box for the past couple of days but HERE I AM- in no particular order:
This doesn't really have a name... It's just called Merman AU
and it's not a 'fanfic' it's half a collection of headcannons for this AU and half snippets from this idea that I posted on tumblr at @haikyuu-aus-cuz-i-cant-write (oops look who has actually written now jfdksalf) basically this is a cross between the little mermaid and the monkey's paw. I really liked this but it was wayyy too big of an idea for me to write and you can see that I stopped after writing Suga's wish which is reallly funny considering this whole idea spawned from wanting a mermaid/human bokuaka AU and i was not near to getting to the meat of the story at all
Things That Hold Us Together: Steel Bolts and Tender Hearts
yes i just recently posted this, yes i've had this in my folders for like 3 years. this one... this was spawned from an old friend - who i don't speak with anymore - offhand comment that a fanart looked like akashi was an android. four hours after they said that i had half of this fic, and they said it was the best writing i ever shared with them. they encouraged me to expand it but i kept hitting a wall and then we had a falling out and through out the years ive been coming back to this trying to add and edit and i decided to reclaim it as my own and publish it. the idea is that it's an introduction to a lighthearted sitcom/romcom between decommissioned war android akashi and engineer who fixed him up furihata
Language Barriers
i cyclically get star trek brainrot and this time it had a dash of akafuri, i really like how i described things in this one since furihata doesn't think in words but emotions and images instead, idk it was a good writing exercise
Horror wip
ive been hemming and hawing at it for literal months now because i have one central driving image behind my eyelids that i want to get to. its just been... harder than usual to get to it. i've rewritten like 3 times trying to get it write. i've currently landed on 2nd person narration with some thrown in spices of 1st person to signify that we are in the being- akashi's- point of view haunting furihata (the you) and its giving me an opportunity to make the reader feel akashi's destroying love from the front seat. my other goal with this is to write some surrealistic imagery soooo yeP
I Will Follow You Down Through The Gates of Hell
i cant not include this. this damn fic/series/idea has been brewing in the back of my mind for so damn long if it was a human child it could hold a fucking conversation. the imagery. the themes. the depth of emotion- AND WE ARE BARELY GETTING INTO THE WAR!? ITS BEEN 50K+ WORDS AND ITS JUST GETTING STARTED (or ending, if you wanna look at it that way) idk its... its been so long since i wrote part 1 that that fic doesn't feel like "mine" anymore? idk but it always makes me smile seeing an email saying that someone else liked the fics too.
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boiohboii · 4 months
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How would that keep us safe?
(Kimi Raikkonen x pregnant!wife!reader)
Inspo
When a formula 1 driver's car fails on them, they would a. be angry, b. go straight to their engineers, c. stay in the team's motor home.. but not kimi raikkonen, no sir, especially not with his pregnant wife on a yacht on her own.
or
in which Sebastian Vettel, Mark Webber and Jenson Button make fun of the infamous ice man for being head over heels for his wife so he just decides to double down.
WARNINGS: not proof read (when do I ever proof read this stuff), no sense of timeline whatsoever, just a small crackhead fic that came to mind. Thank you insta algorithm for the Kimi edits, the man is so fine omg, solid dilf right here people.
Masterlist
"God," yn huffed as she, for an accurate description, waddled alongside her husband, Kimi Raikkonen into the Mclaren garage "if you don't keep it in your pants next time I will chop it off."
"Yes dear." Kimi replied with a smile on his face, hiding his laughter as best as he could to spare himself the lecture that would inevitably make him laugh harder- he can't help it, his wife is much more adorable trying to give him an earful with her puffed cheeks, stomping feet and her belly looking like it's about to pop at any second.
It hadn't even been 30 minutes before yn started to feel the heat getting to her, making her fan herself with the collar of her shirt while glaring at the fan that evidently did nothing to help her out.
"Everything alright dear?"
"No, no!" yn turned to look at her husband "it's so fucking hot i feel like my skin is melting off and your daughter wouldn't stop kicking my bladder so no, nothing is fucking alright!"
While the engineers around gulped, scared for their lives, Kimi bit his lips to avoid smiling at his very cute, frustrated wife. He had gotten used to her snapping at him whenever any little thing annoyed her, he knew it's the least he can do and she always apologises so no harm done really.
"It's okay, here, how about you go watch the race from the yacht? Will that be better?" Kimi whispered as he stood behind his wife with his hands underneath her belly, lifting it up to give his wife some rest.
"Oh my god," yn groaned in relief "I really needed that, I love you."
Staying like that for a few minutes, yn agreed that it would be much better if she watched the race from the yacht in her swimming suit, the atmosphere and the clothing would definitely make it much more comfortable for her. And just as she was about to leave, new company arrived.
"Ohhh, did he piss you off enough to leave him before a race?"
"Damn Kimi, don't make a pregnant woman that mad, especially not your wife."
The voices of Sebastian Vettel and Jenson Button joined the couple, along with the laugh of Mark Webber.
"Oh, shut up." As much as Kimi tells yn that he would rather eat chalk than willingly hang out with these guys, he is indeed fond of them.
"He didn't piss me off," yn pulled her husband down so she could kiss him, smiling upon hearing two of the three newcomers groan and a whistle (of course it's sebastian) "i just feel like I will burst any second so I am going to watch the race from One More Toy"
"What the fuck is one more toy?"
"Oh, it's kimi's yacht."
"Our yacht."
Placing one palm on her belly while his other rests on her cheek, Kimi smiled at his wife "be safe, yes?"
"Yeah, of course."
Giving her a kiss on her forehead, Kimi let go of his wife, watching her head towards his yacht with the help of one of the interns.
"Be safe." Came the mocking voice of Jenson Button
"I'll be so safe." Sebastian continued as they both reincarnated the way Kimi and Yn were standing a few seconds ago; Jenson's hands on Sebastian's stomach and cheek
"I'm going to kill you on this track."
Deciding to join, Mark stood in between Sebastian and Jenson, breaking up their proximity and placing his arms around their shoulders "but how would that keep us safe?"
"An engine failure, yet again from Mclaren."
"It seems like Raikkonen is the one who will retire this race, what a shame."
"Everyone was hoping for him to win this race, he had been phenomenal these past few races giving one stellar performance after the other, truly a waste to see him go this early into the race."
"Well, it looks like Kimi is going to walk to the garage."
"That is insane, it's like a 20 minute walk, no?"
"And we are back, and oh my god, there is Kimi Raikkonen in his yacht, he hasn't got a shirt on, with his wife on his lap, the father to be could not care less in this moment ladies and gentlemen."
"What a legend, the Iceman strikes again everyone, leaving the race to be on a yacht with his family. And oh my god, it seems that the couple are having the time of their lives on their yacht 'one more toy' with snacks all around and their hands all over each other."
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toxicanonymity · 5 months
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Sweet little mess.
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3.2k words, joel x f!reader x tommy | latest fics SUMMARY: Uncle Tommy is back, and you're enjoying a cozy night with the boys. PWP, follows Stuffing, but can read alone. WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (legal), use of daddy/uncle, sharing, fingering, cuckish watching, oral f receiving, jacking off, unsafe PiV, creampies, talk of breeding, MFM kinda, reader can straddle / sit on their laps. Little darkish but soft, reader is very into it, but still a power imbalance with some coaxing (mild dubcon). AU where you don’t overthink this fic or i swear to god. A/N: FIWB. Sharing recs at the bottom, @toxicrecs is rec blog. If you're not into brotherly sharing, please quietly move along.
Being snowed in isn't too bad. You’re grateful for the extra firewood, and you liked watching the boys chop it as the storm clouds rolled in. Now the three of you are settled in for a cozy evening. You're sitting at the end of the sofa between Joel's legs, and Tommy's across the room. They're talking about home improvement projects. Joel’s hand is under your dress, slowly working its way up your thigh, caressing you as they talk. Your dress rides up with Joel's hand, exposing more and more of you. Tommy sits back in the armchair and runs his fingers along his gold chain as he talks. His eyes shamelessly follow Joel's hand.
You were hesitant to give up your stockings after dinner, but Joel coaxed you into a pair of fuzzy socks instead. He likes your legs bare. You're warm enough, after all--so warm your sweater has come off--and Joel is in his happy place. Joel's light touch is enough to make you throb, but the hard bulge of his cock is also pressing against you through his jeans, and his deeper breaths are lifting you on his chest. When Joel's fingers have nearly reached your panties, he lingers just outside the crotch of them, caressing the crease where your thigh meets your torso. You can feel Tommy’s eyes on you, and it makes you tingle more. Despite everything that’s happened, you still feel a little shy with him, and his lustful trance is enough to give you butterflies. 
The length of Joel’s middle finger traces a slow, light path around your thigh crease, as close as he can possibly get without touching your panties, and his cock twitches against you. He brings his other hand to your other thigh. On each side, he traces the leg hole of your underwear up and over the curve of your hip, then back down between your legs. His touch is still painfully light, and you're aching for something more. Finally, one hand slides over to cup your mound. He ghosts your clit through the fabric, then his fingers tease lower, reaching a very damp spot that’s spreading by the second. 
“Mm,” he sighs into your hair, deep and quiet. He and Tommy stop talking. By now, your dress is pulled all the way up and your panties are exposed to Tommy’s lustful gaze across the room. 
“Someone’s all wet for us,” Joel murmurs. 
“Daddy,” you whisper, cheeks burning. 
Tommy raises an eyebrow and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “That so, cupcake?” He turns one of his chunky rings as he watches between your legs. 
Joel’s hand slides up above the hem of your panties, then plunges into them. He gives a low whistle when he reaches your wetness. “Oh yeah,” he tells Tommy. 
Your face and chest are hot. Joel’s free hand pulls your dress up further out of the way. He and Tommy both watch Joel’s massive hand moving rhythmically while it’s crammed into your panties. Your mouth falls open with his practiced strokes. Joel touches you just how you like, and your eyes roll back. You rest your head back against Joel, and his cock fully hardens against you. It presses into you and Joel lets out a barely audible grunt. His hips begin to rock ever so slightly. You’re so lost in bliss, you only vaguely see Tommy’s silhouette slowly crossing the room. He kneels at your feet. 
“Let’s take care of this pretty girl,” Tommy murmurs and his hands slide up your thighs. Joel doesn’t stop fingering you with his hand down your panties. Tommy’s palms slide up your hips, and you flinch when his fingers begin to curl under the elastic band. 
“It’s okay, baby,” Joel whispers. You close your thighs and Joel leans back, slightly lifting you as Tommy takes your panties down. Tommy takes his time bringing them down your legs.
Tommy looks at your wet panties in his hand.  “Ya weren’t lyin’, were ya brother,” Tommy chuckles. Tommy balls up your panties and brings them to his face, covering his mouth and nose. He takes a deep breath with his eyes closed, then takes a lick. “God damn,” he murmurs. He puts them in his pocket, then his hands come to your knees. Joel’s fingers tease your dripping hole, and Tommy’s thumbs trace light circles on your knees, watching Joel’s hand at work. You bite your lip. Tommy nudges your knees a little further apart. 
Joel whispers, “’s okay, baby. Show Uncle Tommy your pretty little pussy.”
You let your thighs spread wide, and your lower belly tingles as Joel’s hand slides out of the way. Then he moves both his hands to cup your breasts through the dress and your nipples harden. Tommy’s hands slide up your thighs, and your hips tilt on their own. The drag of his rings on your skin is still a new sensation. 
“Good girl,” Tommy whispers to your pussy. “Mm.” He uses his thumbs to spread you apart and admires the way you’re gushing arousal onto the skirt of the dress you’re sitting on. “Look at this sweet little mess,” he mumbles. 
Joel is gently massaging your breasts.  “Uncle Tommy can touch ya, can’t he baby?” Joel murmurs. You nod. “Like that, don’t ya?” Joel asks and you nod. Tommy’s eyes sparkle and he gives you a little smile. 
Tommy’s thumb dips into the pool of slick at your entrance, then slides up your slippery seam to your clit. You let out a little sigh. 
“Good,” Tommy whispers as he circles your clit with his thumb. “That’s real good, honey.” He keeps teasing your clit with that thumb as his other hand inches closer, then plays with your pussy.  He rubs your extra slick around, then his middle finger prods your entrance. His finger pushes into you, all the way until a silver ring disappears inside you, and his other hand keeps thumbing your clit. His brow furrows watching his digit disappear into you, and you twitch around it. 
“Close already, ain’t she” he mutters to himself, then glances up at you. “Gonna put my mouth here, k sweetheart?” The thumb on your clit taps it twice. You nod and your pussy clenches around his finger. “God damn,” he whispers. 
Tommy takes his thumb away and rests that hand on your thigh. His breath is humid on your mound as his mouth gets close, with a thick finger still slowly moving in your core. He licks his lips, then plants a tender kiss on your clit as the finger inside you slowly moves. Your hips lift into Tommy’s mouth. 
Joel's hard cock lightly grinds against you. “Good girl,” Joel says with your breasts under his palms. You can hardly stand it. 
Tommy licks down to your hole, where his tongue meets his finger, then he licks back up and sucks on your clit. He adds another finger, and when you twitch around them, he hums “Mm”  into your clit. He presses his tongue just below it and sucks more. 
You whimper, and Joel nuzzles his nose against your ear. “That’s it, baby, that’s it.” 
You’re about to burst. Tommy hums into your clit again and his fingers curl inside you. 
The first pulse of your climax is long and hard and you whimper, “daddy,” closing your eyes and pressing your back into Joel’s chest as your walls clamp down on Tommy’s fingers and your hips lift into his mouth. As the force of your climax overtakes you, you jerk in Joel’s embrace and Tommy groans into your cunt. The way you squeeze Tommy’s fingers makes him shudder, and you whimper again. 
“It’s okay,” Joel whispers as you finish. 
Tommy pulls away and his face glistens from the mustache down. 
“Oh, fuck,” Tommy sighs and palms himself. “She’s somethin’ else, Joel.” 
“Sure is,” Joel answers quietly and proudly, punctuated just for you with a barely perceptible thrust. Tommy breathes heavily and rubs the front of his jeans. 
“Just imagine,” Tommy’s eyes scan your body. “Imagine her knocked up,” Tommy’s brow furrows at Joel, then his eyes return to your body. “Round ’n swollen from all this cum.” Tommy’s breath is heavy. “Fuck.” He looks like it hurts. 
With the look on Tommy’s face, you can’t help but sit up a little bit to try to get a look at his pants. Joel notices and leans forward a bit. Tommy’s jeans are tight with a hefty shape below his belt, curving over the top of his thigh like a large sausage. It makes you wet your lips. Tommy cracks a smile. “Yeah, that’s for you, sugar,” he murmurs. “You did that.” He strokes the solid shape and looks at you hungrily. “Wanna see it, cupcake?” 
“Um,” you hesitate. 
“Sure ya do, baby,” Joel reassures you softly, and you nod. 
-
Tommy gets up on the sofa next to you and Joel. He unbuckles his jeans, biting his lip at you. He unzips, then pulls down his pants. 
He wraps his hand around the protrusion in his boxers and reads your face. “Feelin’ a little shy, sugar. Why don’t ya bring him out?”  
Joel rotates the two of you to face Tommy more. “Go ‘head, baby.” 
You lean forward and Tommy takes his hand away, leaving a massive tent. First, you squeeze his thick shaft through his boxers. Your breath hitches. His eyes sparkle as he watches your face. 
“Why don’t ya come a little closer, honey,” Tommy murmurs. 
“Go on,” Joel agrees. “Sit in Uncle Tommy’s lap.” 
You slowly get up, and Joel palms himself for relief as you straddle Tommy’s thighs. Joel sighs as he strokes himself through his jeans.  Tommy’s hands on your lower back help you balance. You take Tommy’s boxers down below his thick cock and it’s leaking with precum. He helps you take the boxers down further, freeing his hefty balls as well. 
“You wanna touch these too?” Tommy asks and cradles his balls. You must look curious. “It’s okay, ya can,” he smiles.  He reaches out for your hand and you give it to him. He cups his balls with your hand and takes a deep breath. “Yeah, good girl. He smears the precum on his tip while you gently cup his balls and admire his cock. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joel has taken his cock out, and he spits onto it. You turn and stare at Joel’s cock longingly. He looks back at you warmly and says, “When you’re done with that one, baby doll.” You give Tommy’s balls a soft squeeze, then abandon them to hold onto his shoulders with both hands. 
Tommy holds his cock straight up while you hover it. He runs the head of his cock through your dripping folds, then teases your clit with his tip before nestling it at your entrance. As soon as he’s notched there, you begin to sink down. You sigh and he shudders as his cock spreads your insides. “Fuck,” he breathes. He takes a deeper breath with his eyes closed, and his nose twitches. As your body accommodates him, you admire the way his strong chest rises and falls under his chain. Tommy lifts up the skirt of your dress to have a better look. 
“Take it off,” Joel tells him. “Lemme see my pretty girl.” You take your hands off Tommy’s shoulders and Tommy helps remove your dress, leaving you naked. “Good,” Joel murmurs. 
Tommy’s warm palms map your back as he takes in the full sight of your body in the warm flickering light from the fire.  You begin to move on Tommy’s cock, and he rests his hands on  your sides.  Tommy’s hips lift into you, pushing his cock deeper, making you sigh.  You hold onto his shoulders and keep looking at Joel as you ride his brother. “Fuck, she feels good,” Tommy mutters. 
Joel looks at you darkly and nods as he watches you. He spits again and strokes himself slowly.  You bend forward and rest your head in the crook of Tommy’s neck, with your face turned toward Joel. You slowly move your hips, and Joel’s eyes follow your cunt up and down as you take Tommy's length. Joel’s big veiny hand wrapped around his cock makes you twitch around Tommy. Joel is so patient and generous. You think about what Tommy said - they’ve been sharin’ their toys for fifty years. It feels special, getting to watch Joel’s cock and feel full of one at the same time. You twitch again and tilt your hips for more pressure on your clit. 
“Fuck,” Tommy whispers. “Gonna cum already?”
You keep watching Joel, and don’t answer. You’re in a daze. You’re gonna miss this when Tommy leaves town again. It feels like Joel is watching you and fucking you too, somehow. You move slowly at a steady rhythm that matches Joel’s hand on his own cock. 
Joel nods as he asks, “Gonna cum on Uncle Tommy’s cock?” 
“Yeah,” you whisper. You tilt your hips and grind your clit into Tommy’s pubic bone with the heft of his cock dragging inside you, hugged by your walls. 
“Fuck, yeah,” Tommy whispers. 
“Mmm,” you whine, and watch Joel watching you. Tommy’s hands on your ass guide your movements, still in rhythm with Joel’s self-pleasure. 
“Breathe, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers, and you realize you’re holding your breath with the tension. You exhale with a sigh, then Tommy takes a deep breath with you and nods. 
“God damn, you look good, baby,” Joel murmurs, and his husky voice puts you over the edge. You whine as your cunt chokes Tommy’s cock, you tilt your hips, pushing your clit into his pubic hair, and Tommy groans with your climax. 
“Oh, God,” Tommy breathes, “Fuck–Ohh, f–” He looks at Joel. 
Joel nods, “Fill her up.” 
Tommy’s fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down on him, and he erupts.  He sighs, “Ohhh, fuck” and his hips lift into you as the warmth spreads through your core and clench on him in fading pulses. 
Joel scoots closer to Tommy, eyeing where your bodies are joined. When you’re finished coming, Tommy helps you off his lap. Tommy’s cock slides out of you, and he offers a hand for you to hold onto for balance as you move to Joel’s lap. 
You straddle Joel’s thighs. With your thighs spread wide over Joel’s lap, your cunt is spread open and a bit of Tommy’s cum dribbles out as you put your arms around Joel’s neck and kiss him. Joel kisses you tenderly, then looks down between your bodies where you’re dripping on him. 
“Sorry, daddy,” you whisper, embarrassed.
“It’s okay, baby doll.” Joel looks down at his cock suggestively. You sink down on it in a hurry, and your mouth falls open as Joel’s throbbing manhood makes you whole. Tommy tucks his softening cock into his boxers and watches in a daze.
“Oh, baby,” Joel sighs. “Feel even better than ya look.” His hips rock up into you as you ride him. You kiss him again and he holds you close. You feel so full of him, and yet he slides easily in and out with the combined mess from you and Tommy. You can hear a light squelching, and the milky mix is gathering in Joel’s dark pubic hair, making it look grayer . It’s sloppy, and obscene, and it turns you on more. 
Joel watches his cock disappearing into you, and with both your eyes on the mess, he asks, “How’s that, baby?”
“Feels so good,” you whine. Joel’s hands are warm on your hips.  You let him take over, moving you on his cock. You rest your limply in his arms.  Joel grunts and moans into your hair, and you sigh and whimper. You look at Tommy, and Tommy gives you a little smile, then rests his hand on your thigh, under Joel’s wrist.  Your insides are all buzzing, swollen with tension already again. You study Joel’s face. A fine mist has gathered on his temples. He rakes his hair back, then returns his hand to your hip. 
“Mmm,” Joel hums with his cock dragging snugly between your walls. He cradles your head with one hand and brings your face to his for a long, deep kiss that gets wet and sloppy. He lightly bites your bottom lip. He pulls back to look at you again, watching your body with as much hunger as if it’s the first time. 
“Gonna fill ya up, baby,” Joel breathes, then moans, “Ahh–ungh–when you’re ready.” He slows you down on his cock, moving you only with the lift of his hips, using his hands for balance only.  
You nod, and Joel responds, “mmmmm-yyeah,” and explodes with a long, loud sigh.  It’s a massive eruption.  “Ohhh,” he moans and moves you slowly on his cock while the warm bursts fill you up. You look down and it’s overflowing into his pubic hair. 
He whispers, “’s ok–ohhh,” releasing another burst of cum. “Ohh, good girl.” 
-
Joel wraps his arms around you, and you rest your head in the crook of his neck. 
You shiver in some kind of deep contentment, and Joel rubs your back with his big, warm hands. 
Tommy asks, “You cold, sugar?” 
You shake your head, your skin still tingling warm from the pleasure. 
Tommy picks up your dress anyway. He stays seated next to you and Joel and helps put it on you while you’re still plugged by Joel’s cock.  Tommy pulls the dress down over your breasts and lets the fabric hang, covering the mess on Joel’s lap. Then Tommy reaches under your dress, stopping just below your breasts.  The back of his hand holds the fabric out toward Joel’s chest. He moves his hand in a curving  motion, making the dress look like you’re pregnant.  “One day I’ll come back, n’ you’ll be out to here,” Tommy murmurs.  He lets the dress collapse, then pats your lower belly and your face heats up.
“I dunno,” you mutter shyly and glance at Joel, grateful that he hasn’t made you do it. He certainly could. He controls the medicinal tea and keeps the calendar. 
Joel looks at you with kind eyes and shakes his head.”Scares her,” he tells Tommy. “She don’t wanna push one out.”
“Well, I reckon I wouldn’t either,” Tommy chuckles. “That’s okay, sugar.” Tommy cups your cheek and brushes it with his thumb.
“But maybe if we stretch her out good,” Joel muses softly, “Show her what this body can do. . . She’ll come around.” 
“Ohh yeah,” Tommy moans, taking his hand back. He stretches his back. 
“You liked that, right baby?” Joel asks you. “What we did last time?” 
You nod and mostly suppress a smile. 
Joel winks at Tommy, then gives you a kiss on the forehead. 
-
Once Joel lets you off his lap, he takes you to the bathroom so you can go and he can clean both of you up. When you come back to the sofa, Tommy pulls a blanket over all three of you and you snuggle up. Joel has his arm around you and Tommy is rubbing your thigh affectionately. When you get sleepy, you lie down with your head in Joel's lap and your legs draped over Tommy's. It wouldn't be so bad to be snowed in a few more days.
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Thank you so much for reading. Love you all and always appreciate your sweet comments and thots.
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I have another recent Joel x reader ft. Tommy with a different set miller bros: leopard print
And a darker Tommy x reader here: birds of prey
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FIC RECS (@toxicrecs for more)
(Same as the list in Stuffing) - If you like brotherly sharing, a couple of my personal favorites are I can be your pretty girl parts 4 and 5 (but the whole series) by @walkintotheriveranddisappear, Liquid Gold and its prequel Two Hands to Hold by @gasolinerainbowpuddles,If you like the idea of daddy/uncle, @bonezone44 has Joel, tommy, and Ezra. More sharing - Smack My Bitch Up, raider AU by @milla-frenchy. If you wanna suck Tommy's big balls, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin has you covered. Also, @wannab-urs has a new spreadsheet digest dedicated to multiples.
I hear you about notifs not working, i hear you about tags not working (i'm not receiving a lot of my tags either). consider checking my fic notifs blog @toxicfics or the "latest fics" link on my profile header once in a while to see what you might have missed.
: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading
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smileysuh · 8 months
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the alpha's right hand
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🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. Mingyu had thought he’d lost you - if even for a moment - and he’s not willing to lose you ever again. He doesn’t want you running into the woods anymore when you’re having emotions, he wants you running to him, and he kisses you as if to say ‘please, never leave.’ He had always thought Seungcheol would be his alpha, but you’d shown up and flipped his world upside down. Mingyu doesn’t care about appeasing his friend anymore- all he cares about is appeasing you- pleasuring you, giving you everything you could ever possibly want, everything you could ever need.
tw/cw. a/b/o au & power structures, mentions of a bad pack past, one mention of child death, blood/childbirth, exhibitionism/outside sex, clothed dry humping, fingering, mutual masturbation, hand job, big dick!Mingyu, pussy stretching, unprotected sex, pullout method, groping, overstimulation, praise, dirty talk, needy!Mingyu, hair pulling, orgasm control, small noncon/impreg thoughts, etc… I pet names: (hers) alpha. (his) Big guy, puppy.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 14.4k
🍭 aus. a/b/o au, werewolf au, alpha!reader, beta!Mingyu, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. this fic is in the Blood Moon universe, if I end up writing another fic for this au, it will get a masterlist, but until then read cheol here
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Mingyu loves thunder storms. There’s something almost therapeutic about the percussion of the sky, the flashes of light and the smell of rain in the air. It’s been a dry summer, and the water is a much-needed reprieve. 
The beta wolf sits on his sheltered wrap-around cabin porch, a mug of tea in his hand while he watches the sky. Some of his packmates have called him crazy, but Mingyu doesn’t care. They can bundle up inside, but a summer storm is just what he needs to clear his head.
Whats the point of being a wild thing if you don’t appreciate the weather? Mingyu knows he shouldn’t question alphas, but Soonyoung and Jihoon are particularly prissy about rain. Seungcheol, however, doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s out chopping wood, a white t-shirt sticking tight to his muscles while he swings the ax down on a log.
Mingyu had asked if he needed any help, but Seungcheol had refused. The beta thinks his alpha must be bulking up in preparation for his child on the way, and Mingyu doesn’t blame him.
No one would be crazy enough to challenge Seungcheol as head alpha, but in the dark corners of Mingyu’s mind, he supposes there’s always a chance. And with a new baby, Seungcheol is at least partially exposed. Mingyu admires his alpha for taking extra precautions like this.
Seungcheol stops cutting wood, straightening and looking out toward the trees. Mingyu is on high alert immediately, putting his tea down and standing, sniffing at the wind. 
The cedar and newly moist dry earth are predominantly the scents that overwhelm him, but there’s something else too,something underneath the natural pleasantries-
Then Mingyu hears the snapping of twigs, as if something large is coming through the brush a few hundred feet away. Mingyu knows immediately that it’s not a bear, no bears come through their property, they’d be stupid to try- no, the scent is a much more familiar one; wet wolf. But as far as Mingyu knows, the whole pack is inside their cabins-
Seungcheol squares his shoulders as he stairs out at the trees, and Mingyu bounds down the steps to join his alpha, staying a few feet back. The ax in Seungcheol’s hand glints in the grey light. 
“Cheol?” Mingyu asks, looking for guidance. 
“Shh,” the alpha tuts, grip tightening on the wooden ax handle. 
Something large stumbles through the tree line. A huge, amber-coloured wolf. You’re much too big to be a regular canine, and Mingyu knows immediately that the animal in front of them is no animal at all, you’re a person- and his suspicion is confirmed when you shiver, slowly beginning the transformation back into your regular form.
Watching a werewolf shift is always a unique experience, and Mingyu’s breath catches during the three seconds it takes for the wolf to become a girl. You crumble against the grass, naked and breathing heavily.
Mingyu can’t help himself, he immediately tugs off his flannel, running toward you to cover your modesty. “Oh my god-” he whispers. “Are you okay?!”
You nod weakly, letting out a soft groan, and his heart races when you curl up against his thigh, fingers tugging at the denim of his jeans.
“Mingyu, step back from her,” Seungcheol commands, and for the first time in a long time, Mingyu questions his alpha’s judgment.
“But-”
“Just do it,” the alpha growls, eyes flashing red as he bares his teeth at Mingyu. 
Mingyu lets out a breath, but he does as he’s told, retreating from you on the ground to go join Seungcheol.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Seungcheol says to you. “Where’s your pack?”
“I don’t have a pack,” you respond, fingers grabbing at the grass as you lift your head to look at them. 
“I find that hard to believe,” Seungcheol muses. “Alpha females are rare, they always have a pack.”
“Not me,” you shake your head and Mingyu is doing his best to get this whole situation straight. You? A female alpha? There aren’t many of those- not pure blood ones anyways- usually female alphas become alpha when they mate with a male alpha, but you- “I ran away.”
“You ran away?” Mingyu asks in shock.
The life of a loner wolf can be deadly, let alone for a female-
“They tried-” you sit up, wrapping the flannel around your body, “They tried to marry me off to an alpha twice my age. I refused. And then I ran.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Seungcheol says after a brief pause. “But I still don’t see how you ended up here.”
“I heard you’re a pack with three alphas- I thought… I thought if anyone would take me in it would be you.” There’s a vulnerability in your eyes, and a sincerity in the shaking of your voice. 
Mingyu can see that you’re desperate, and it feels as if maybe their pack truly is your only hope- the rain beats down harder, and Seungcheol has a staring match with you while you sit in the mud.
“We wouldn’t know what to do with a female alpha,” he says finally.
“You don’t have to do anything,” you insist. “Just give me a place to stay, a home, a family- and I promise I won’t challenge you. I’ll be loyal, I’ll back you up, I promise. I never wanted to be a pack leader- I never wanted the responsibility, please- I have nowhere else to go- everyone else would marry me off to another alpha-”
“Seungcheol?” a pretty female voice calls through the storm, and both wolves snap their heads towards the sound. Seungcheol’s glowing new bride is standing on the deck of her cabin, one hand wrapped protectively around her large baby bump.
“Go back inside!” Seungcheol shouts, and his wife does so without a second thought. She’s very submissive in this last trimester, and she trusts Seungcheol to make decisions for her best interest above all things.
“You have females here,” you say quietly.
“Not female alphas,” Seungcheol states.
“Still- maybe you need a midwife- birthing alphas can be a rough situation-”
Seungcheol adjusts his grip on the ax. “Are you familiar with midwifery?” 
“Oh yes,” you nod. “I had four younger brothers, I was there during all their births.”
“If you have four younger brothers, why aren’t they with you?”
“I had four younger brothers,” you repeat. Even from a few feet away, Mingyu can see your eyes glistening with emotion, and it’s not the rain. “My eldest brother- he- well, he didn’t want to be challenged.”
“You’re from the Arcadia Pack,” Seungcheol says suddenly, and things click in Mingyu’s head a moment after the words slip from his alpha’s mouth.
The Arcadia pack is a nomadic pack, very off-grid, known for their archaic practices- Mingyu had even heard a horror story about one alpha eating his own male offspring, although, Mingyu had always thought that was just a spin on the Greek/Roman myths, made to scare betas about the dangers of being an alpha. 
You nod, looking down at the ground.
A muscle in Seungcheol’s jaw feathers. “You can stay,” he says gruffly. “Mingyu,” the beta steps forward, “we don’t have any extra cabins, and I don’t trust anyone other than you to take care of her. You can do this for me, right?”
“Of course,” Mingyu nods, already running through his mind what possible things he could cook to warm you up. 
Seungcheol begins to head back to his own home, but then he stops, looking back. “If Wonwoo has a problem with sharing his cabin, tell him to move in with Hansol and Seungkwan until I sort out sleeping arrangements. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of days.”
“Got it,” Mingyu nods enthusiastically, watching his alpha depart.
As soon as Seungcheol’s cabin door is closed, Mingyu’s body kicks into high gear. He wants to rush to you, but at the same time, he wants to warm you up, so he opts for running to his deck, grabbing his discarded tea before jogging back to you.
“Here,” he says, kneeling down to hand the mug to you. “It’s hot, drink it, and I’ll help you inside.”
You accept the cup with shaky fingers.
Mingyu gives you a moment to take a sip, then he reaches for you, grabbing your forearm and pulling you to your feet-
The flannel covering your naked body slips off your shoulder, and Mingyu catches a slight glimpse of your breasts before you’re tugging the fabric back around yourself. The beta can feel his skin heating, and he looks away, swallowing thickly. “Come on,” he says again, “I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
“Sweet beta,” you laugh, leaning on him. “Don’t you know us alphas don’t get sick so easily?”
It’s so odd for him to be around a female alpha. He’s used to taking care of women- his beta little sisters who he’d grown up with, his alpha’s beta wife- he doesn’t know to handle you, not really, and he has no clue what to say as he helps you toward the cabin.
The door opens before you even get to the steps, and Mingyu’s cabin mate, Wonwoo, is leaning in the door frame. 
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he states.
“Well, you heard what Cheol said,” Mingyu insists, helping you up the stairs. “If you don’t like it, you can move in with Hansol and Seungkwan.” 
“Where’s she even going to sleep?” Wonwoo asks, moving to the side so you and Mingyu can pass.
“My room,” Mingyu states. “She can have my room.”
“You? On the couch?” Wonwoo scoffs. “Good luck with that.”
“What’s your problem?” you say finally, looking Wonwoo up and down. 
He meets your gaze. “In my opinion, we already have two too many alphas in this pack.”
“Well It’s not up to you,” you insist.
“You’re right about that, but it doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it,” Wonwoo growls darkly, narrowing his eyes. 
“Wonwoo, please-” Mingyu groans, reaching out to grab his friend’s forearm. “Can you go grab her some clothes from my room, I have to start making some food for her, she’s cold-”
“She’s fine,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.
“Wonwoo, please,” Mingyu repeats, and the other wolf finally lumbers off. “Look,” he says, turning to you again, “the bathroom is through that door right there. The water isn’t that hot, but it will be enough to warm you up while I get some ramen going-”
“I’m used to cold water,” you cut him off, handing your mug of tea to him. “I’m sure even warm would be better than I’ve had recently.”
Mingyu blinks at you. He doesn’t know what to say as you walk away from him, entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you. The sound of water thrums to life a moment later and Mingyu finally shakes himself out of his daze. 
Wonwoo returns holding a pair of sweats and a hoodie, he places them on the floor outside the bathroom door before joining Mingyu in the kitchen.
“This isn’t a good idea,” Wonwoo says quietly.
“She needs our help.”
“It shouldn’t be us,” Wonwoo points out. “It should be Jihoon or Soonyoung.”
“You sound like you’re trying to marry her off to one of them-” Mingyu’s nose scrunches with distaste. “Besides, if we did that, and they did get together, that would be a double alpha pairing and it would be very dangerous for Seungcheol.”
“So dangerous, in fact, Seungcheol might kick them out, or we might be forced to put them down. Two birds, one stone.”
Mingyu freezes, heart thumping wildly in his chest. He slowly turns to his best friend. “Wonwoo… I think you should leave.”
“You want me to leave?” Wonwoo asks in shock.
“I don’t think it’s good for you to be here right now.” Mingyu can’t believe he’s saying any of this- Wonwoo is his best friend- but… Wonwoo’s never acted this way before. Swallowing thickly, Mingyu squares his chest, straightening to his full height while he looks down at his friend. “Yeah, I think you should go to Hansol and Seungkwan’s cabin until we get this housing arrangement sorted out.”
“Seriously?” Wonwoo scoffs, but Mingyu doesn’t back down, doesn’t adjust his stance an inch. He stays steady, and after a few seconds, Wonwoo crumbles. “Fine. have it your way. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when this whole thing ends badly.”
Wonwoo doesn’t even bother packing a bag, he simply grabs his jacket off the couch and heads to the door, slamming it loudly behind him. 
Mingyu finally lets out a breath, deflating, and then, he goes back to getting water boiled for ramen.
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You listen in on the argument in the kitchen. These beta wolves don’t seem to be aware of how good a female alpha’s senses can be. You’re even more sensitive than males, it’s a natural adaptation to help mothers be better suited to take care of their young, and here you are, using it to eavesdrop on two stupid betas.
Well, the big one doesn’t seem so stupid. He seems kind of nice actually. But his friend? A dickhead.
You smile when you hear the front door slam, and you listen to the wolf lumber down the stairs, then the crunch of gravel as he walks away. 
This will be a much easier living arrangement for you. Having one beta male around and in your space is going to be odd, but to have two would have been nearly too much for you. Their scent is everywhere, and when you get out of the shower, you find yourself staring down two towels. 
You opt for the one that smells like the bigger wolf, and use it to dry off, trying to get used to his scent. 
You’d heard one of them set clothes down outside the bathroom door, and you unlock it, opening it a sliver to peer out. You can hear the big wolf whistling in the kitchen while he cooks, and you quickly snatch the clothing into the bathroom, locking the door again.
Your pack has stayed in a few structures before, but many of them were hand built cabins deep in the wilderness. Running water - especially hot running water - is a luxury you’re not used to. When you wipe the steam off the mirror, assessing yourself through the reflective glass, you’re almost shocked to see how good you look.
You’d washed the dirt off your body- it’s been so long since you looked in a proper mirror, and you realize you even look pretty. 
You shrug the hoodie and sweatpants on, marveling at how large they are on your much smaller form. They smell like the large wolf, everything does. 
Standing in the bathroom, you do your best to psych yourself up. You’re an alpha for goodness sake- you don’t need to be afraid. Especially not when the wolf in the other room seems to be a complete softy- you can’t believe he’d given you tea and even his flannel- yeah, he seems nice, but you’ve not met many nice men in your life.
You exit the bathroom, tiptoeing to the kitchen. The wolf must be very preoccupied with his cooking because he doesn’t even look up. He’s focused on the ginger he’s grating, and the smell of the root mixes with the minced garlic already frying in a pot. It’s the first scent that’s not wolfish, and it makes your mouth begin to water as you watch.
“Hi,” you say finally.
The six-foot-two man jumps in shock.
He might just be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, he even clutches his chest.
“Hi,” he sighs.
“I’m y/n.”
He studies you. “Mingyu,” and then, he reaches out a hand.
You look down at his hand, and after a moment, you give it a small shake. 
“Uh…” he licks his lips, “welcome to the pack I guess.”
“Thank you,” you nod, moving closer to look down at the garlic he’s cooking. You find there’s also green onions, and he adds the ginger while you watch. “Are you the pack chef?”
“Something like that,” Mingyu laughs. “I’m Seungcheol’s right-hand man. I do anything he needs, including cooking for new pack members it seems.”
“He didn’t tell you to do this,” you note.
“Okay, maybe I wanted to do this. Seungcheol has too much on his plate, he would have reminded me to cook for you if it had crossed his mind.”
You nod. “His mate is very pregnant. Must be hard for him.” 
“Do you really have midwife skills?” Mingyu asks.
You nod again. “I live deep in the forest, it’s important for all the women to be part of the birthing process, including alphas.”
“Luckily we have a hospital half an hour away.”
“You can’t always make it to a hospital,” you point out. “Alpha deliveries can be sudden, and dangerous. If I was making suggestions to your alpha, I’d tell him to ask any and all female pack relatives to come and stay for a little while. If he has a mother, or sisters, or aunts, or cousins-”
“You really think that’s necessary?” Mingyu blinks at you, stirring the pot of golden aromatics while adding boiling water.
“I do,” you admit. “I’ve heard you’re an all male pack, except for the alpha’s mate, and I’d hoped there would be a few more women around-”
“A few of us have had girlfriends in the past, but nothing that stuck. It can be hard for them to deal with a pack that has three alphas,” Mingyu tells you, frowning.
“Four,” you correct. “It might be easier now that I’m here. I’ve always had good relationships with female pack members. I wouldn’t have been able to escape my last pack without them.”
“If you could help us find some female wolves to join, I’m sure all the guys here would be really grateful.”
“Including that buddy of yours?” you almost laugh. “What is it he said? He wants me to get with another alpha so you can take me out and kill two birds with one stone?”
“He didn’t-” Mingyu stammers.
“Tell me, of your two other alphas, which one do you have more issues with?” you ask, looking Mingyu up and down.
The large wolf sighs. “Soonyoung has been causing trouble lately.”
“Yeah? How’s that?” 
“He was sort of hitting on Seungcheol’s mate for a while- looking at her a lot and stuff-” Mingyu adds the ramen to the pot, and you note how uncomfortable this is making him. He must not like confrontation.
Who would have thought, an alpha’s right-hand muscle man who doesn’t like fights.
“Are they going to have problems with me being here?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.
“I mean- if anything, uh…” Mingyu swallows thickly, and you watch his adam’s apple bob with effort, “they might hit on you.”
“But as you said to that other guy earlier, if I don’t want to be a danger to Seungcheol, it would be wise for me to stay away from them.” You look down at the boiling ramen. “That was a smart observation from you.”
“Thanks?” He rubs the back of his neck. 
“After dinner, I’ll need to sleep,” you tell him. “I ran all day to get here. But I can’t rest in your friend’s room.”
“You can have my room,” Mingyu is quick to assure you. “It’s cleaner than his anyways.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” The wolf opens a cabinet, pulling out a bowl. He spoons it full of ramen and hands it to you.
“Aren’t you eating?” you ask.
“No,” he shakes his head, “this is for you. Something tells me you’ll want to eat all of it, and I had dinner an hour ago.”
He’s right. Ten minutes later you’ve eaten all the ramen. 
Your body is warm, for the first time in what feels like ages. When you head into Mingyu’s bedroom, and slowly lay down on his soft bed, the mattress makes you groan. You’ve been sleeping on hides on the forest floor for months now- 
Before you know it, you’re drifting off to sleep.
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You wake up to sunlight streaming through the window, and for the first time in a long time, you simply allow yourself to bask in it. You curl up against Mingyu’s pillow, breathing in his scent. The big beta obviously wears cologne, something spicy, but you can smell cedar and notes of pine too. He’s a woodsy guy, and it’s familiar to you.
Sitting up, you stretch your arms above your head, groaning softly at the feeling in your muscles. This is what freedom is, and you can’t believe you’ve finally found it.
Making your way to Mingyu’s closet, you find a red and black flannel, and you slip it on, enjoying the softness of it. Then, you grab a pair of boxers. 
When you’d left your pack, you hadn’t been able to take anything, and in wolf form, not even clothes made the journey here with you. All you have right now is mens underwear, and they’re large around your hips, but they’ll do better than walking around with nothing.
The wood floorboards creek as you tiptoe to the door, opening it to peer into the room beyond. 
You can hear Mingyu’s soft snores coming from his friend’s room. When you make your way to the front door, it squeaks on its hinges, and the soft sleeping sounds come to halt. Then, there are footfalls, and Mingyu peers out of his friend’s room, blinking at you as he rubs his eyes with one hand.
“You’re awake,” he says.
“Early riser,” you nod, taking in his bare chest and the pair of sweatpants that are hanging dangerously low on his hips. “I was going to go look around.”
“Okay,” Mingyu sighs, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a groan. “Give me a second and I’ll come with you.”
“You can go back to sleep,” you suggest.
“Nah, you shouldn’t be walking around alone.”
“I’m not in any danger.” You know how to deal with male alphas if you come across either of the two that are bound to be lurking around outside.
“I’m not worried about you,” Mingyu says, disappearing into his friend’s room. “Worried about the other guys.”
You crack a smile. “Yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because flannels look good on you,” Mingyu returns, torso covered in a black vneck, “and I doubt many of the pack know there’s a new alpha yet. Not sure how they’ll react.”
You suppose he has a point, and you stay quiet as he approaches you, slipping his feet into a pair of shoes by the door. Then he looks down. “Give me a sec, I’m pretty sure Cheol’s mate has a similar size foot to you, I’ll grab you some flip flops.”
“I can go barefoot,” you insist.
“You are a wild thing, aren’t you?” Mingyu chuckles, running a hand through his messy hair. “Just wait here, please.” 
He shifts past you, exiting the cabin. Instead of staying inside, you follow, stopping on the deck while he jogs to the small house a hundred feet away. You watch him as he kneels, shifting through some shoes before finding a pair, and then he walks back to you, squinting in the morning sun. 
“Here,” he says, holding them out, “give these a try.” 
You slip the flip-flops on, nodding. “They work.”
“Good,” Mingyu yawns. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
You follow him down the steps, enjoying his lumbering walk. He’s so big- and his strides are longer than yours, but he’s moving slowly, which makes it easy for you to keep up. 
“So this is our pack compound,” he explains, still sounding a bit groggy. “Seungcheol and his mate live in that cabin, and then you’ve met me and Wonwoo-” so his bitchy friend does have a name. “There are seven cabins in total and I’ll walk you through them, we can see who’s awake.”
“Your pack doesn’t wake up at dawn?” 
“Nah, we’ve got a lot of guys who sleep in,” Mingyu says, and from the way he’s still yawning, you can tell he’s not used to being up this early. 
You’ve always liked mornings. Your pack is the type to be up and bustling about, but you think you could get used to the quiet of this place. Birds are singing in the trees, and the dew on the grass from last night’s rain is tickling past your feet as you walk through the area.
“This cabin belongs to Hansol and Seungkwan,” Mingyu explains, pointing at the next lodging you walk past. “They’re good guys, Hansol especially. When we joined all three packs, Hansol and Wonwoo were with me and Cheol.”
“So you’re very close then,” you nod, taking in the cabin with its dark windows. It’s clear the inhabitants are still asleep.
“Yeah, Hansol’s a friend,” Mingyu nods. “He’ll like you.”
“You think so?”
“Hansol gets along with everyone,” Mingyu says factually. 
The next cabin is a short distance away, but unlike the last one, this one has signs of life. There’s even a man sitting on the front steps, and he stands as you approach. 
He’s small in stature, but with the downwind sending his scent your way, you can tell immediately that he must be one of the other two alphas. He certainly holds himself like a man in charge, and you meet his gaze straight on. 
“Jihoon,” Mingyu greets, coming to a stop a few feet in front of the stairs leading to the alpha. 
“What’s going on?” Jihoon asks, scanning your form.
“We got a new member of the pack yesterday,” Mingyu explains. “This is y/n.”
The man scrunches his nose, eyes narrowing. “She’s an alpha.”
“From the Arcadia pack,” Mingyu nods, and a flash of recognition flutters over Jihoon’s features.
“Seungcheol is okay with this?” Jihoon asks.
“I wouldn’t be showing her around if he wasn’t,” Mingyu says, and there’s a firmness in his voice. “She’s going to help with midwife stuff.”
“Oh,” Jihoon’s head cocks to the side slightly. “That’s good to hear.”
“Is Seokmin awake?” Mingyu questions, and you both look past the alpha to see if his roommate is up.
“He’s never awake this early,” Jihoon scoffs.
“Well,” Mingyu turns to you, “guess you’ll meet him later.”
“Are you giving her a full tour?” Jihoon asks, eyes still lingering on your form.
“Uh huh,” Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, yawning loudly. 
“Why isn’t Seungcheol doing it?”
Mingyu lets out a small laugh. “We both know Seungcheol has bigger things on his plate.”
“Bigger than introducing a new alpha female to the pack?” Jihoon cracks a smile. “I find that hard to believe.”
“You don’t have to believe it,” Mingyu sighs. 
It’s interesting how he’s interacting with the alpha in front of him. You’d wondered what the dynamic might be like- but it appears that Mingyu truly only has loyalty to Seungcheol. As the head alpha, this is the way it should be.
Jihoon doesn’t say anything else, and Mingyu’s gentle touch on the small of your back prompts you to continue your tour.
“He’s cranky in the morning,” Mingyu tells you under his breath.
“And he can probably hear you,” you note, looking over your shoulder at the scowling alpha.
“My bad,” Mingyu says, but from the smile on his face, you know he doesn’t really care. 
The cabins are all spaced nicely, giving earshot privacy but still mostly visible to each other as you continue down the dirt path that connects them. 
The next cabin has not one, but two wolves sitting on its front porch, and they both stand like Jihoon had, looking at you curiously.
“What did you bring for us today, Gyu?” one of them asks while the other practically eye fucks you over his bowl of cereal.
“This is y/n, she’s joining the pack,” Mingyu explains. 
“Really?” The prettier of the two bounds down the stairs, grinning. “Since when?”
“Last night.”
“I’m Jeonghan,” the wolf holds out a hand to you. “It’s lovely to finally meet an alpha female, especially one as gorgeous as you.”
The man still standing on the stairs lets out a loud scoff, and then he’s setting down his cereal to approach. “Don’t pay attention to him,” he says, “Jeonghan’s a flirt.”
“As if you’re any better, Joshua,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes.
“I am better,” Joshua grins, holding out his own hand to you. “In every way.”
You don’t enjoy the way he looks you up and down again, eyes taking their time to assess your outfit. You’re very aware of the fact you’re not wearing a bra, and when Joshua releases your hand, you’re quick to cross your arms over your chest.
“Where’s she staying?” Jeonghan asks, addressing Mingyu.
“With me for now, but Cheol’s gonna work out a sleeping arrangement.” Mingyu’s hand finds the small of your back, his touch as light as a feather. “We should keep going with the tour.”
“Need company?” Joshua questions.
“We’re good,” you say firmly. 
With a nod goodbye, Mingyu and you head off again. 
“Are they all like this?” you ask.
“What do you mean?”
You let out a small laugh. “Horrible with women?” 
“It’s a pack trait,” Mingyu jokes.
“You’re not so bad,” you tell him, and when you sneak a glance at the beta, you notice his skin is flushed.
He’s so cute you want to just eat him up.
“I uh…” Mingyu coughs, “that’s debatable.”
“I’m telling you you’re not bad with women, and I’m an alpha, which means you have to listen to me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mingyu chuckles.
“Not ma’am,” you correct him. “Yes, alpha.” 
“Yes, alpha,” he says, not missing a beat. 
“That wasn’t so hard, was it, big guy?”
He lets out a small “shit” under his breath, and you realize you enjoy toying with him. 
“So anyways,” he clears his throat, “this next cabin is Minghao and Jun, but they’re asleep-”
“Over half the compound is asleep,” you note. “Who’s protecting your boundaries?”
“No one?” Mingyu looks around. “I’m not sure what you’re used to from your last pack, but closer to the city, boundaries rarely get encroached on.”
“Oh, so I pulled a big no-no by just showing up, huh?”
“It was unusual, that’s for sure,” Mingyu smiles. 
“My bad.”
The beta at your side only grins as you walk past another dark cabin. You don’t mind not talking, as it gives you a chance to listen to the sounds of the compound. More birds are singing now, and trees rustle with small wildlife. You watch two squirrels chasing each other, and the familiar sight makes you smile.
Yeah, despite the gang of clueless men, you could definitely get used to this place.
“So this last cabin belongs to Soonyoung and Dino-” Mingyu begins to say, and as the words leave his mouth, the lodging’s front door is thrown open.
A white-haired alpha struts out, his gaze fixed on you. 
You stop in your tracks assessing his form for signs of aggression-
While he holds his head high, and walks like an alpha, the man in front of you is at least attempting open body language. He smiles, flashing his canines. “I knew I smelt something sweet,” he says loudly, thudding down the front steps and approaching.
So this must be the Soonyoung that Mingyu had mentioned. The alpha causing trouble.
He definitely looks like a bit of a flirt, and his eyes scan you up and down as the other wolves had. “Let me guess,” Soonyoung says, “Arcadia pack.”
“How did you-”
“Sweetheart, there aren’t many alpha females around these parts. It’s not rocket science.” Soonyoung comes to a stop in front of you. “The real question is, why are you here?”
“She left her old pack,” Mingyu answers for you. “She’s with us now.”
“Trouble in wilderness paradise, huh?” Soonyoung’s grin widens. “Their loss, our gain.”
“What are you doing awake this early?” Mingyu asks, and you see him stiffening beside you.
“I told you, I smelt something sweet.” The alpha is yet to take his eyes off of you, and you meet his gaze straight on, like a challenge. 
“And I smell dog, but I’m guessing that’s you,” you say calmly.
Soonyoung lets out a bark of a laugh. “Damn, baby, you’ve got a mouth on you.”
“Enough of the babys and sweethearts,” you tell him. “My name is y/n.”
“Cute name,” Soonyoung says, but the compliment does nothing for you.
“Mingyu, I think my tour is done,” you sigh, looking to the beta at your side. 
“What? But you just started.” Soonyoung whines, and the tone of his voice grinds your nerves. 
“I’ve seen enough,” you say smoothly. 
“Princess, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Soonyoung assures you. 
A growl bubbles up in your throat, and you turn your icy gaze back to the alpha. “Nothing impressive, that’s for sure. And I doubt you have anything to show me that could change my mind.”
Soonyoung only smiles wider. “I like your fire.”
“Good for you.” You reach out, grabbing Mingyu’s forearm. “We’re leaving.”
“Aw, don’t be like that,” the alpha clicks his tongue. “You’re part of the pack now, it’s time to make friends.”
“Something tells me you’re not looking for any more friends,” you say coldly. “If you’re really that bored, go bug your housemate.”
“Dino’s not anywhere near as pretty as you, and he doesn’t talk back, so it’s not as fun.”
“I’m not here to entertain you.” You’re getting tired of this alpha already.
“Shame,” Soonyoung tilts his head to the side. “Something tells me you’ll be very entertaining.”
“She said we’re leaving,” Mingyu states, and it’s as stern as you’ve heard him be with anyone, let alone an alpha. 
“Well,” Soonyoung sighs, “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
You feel the need to give him a snarky response, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction, so instead, you turn on your heel, heading back the way you came with Mingyu scrambling to follow.
You can feel Soonyoung’s eyes on you, and it sets your teeth on edge. If there’s one thing you hate in this world, it’s presumptuous alphas.
“Sorry about him,” Mingyu apologizes quietly.
“It’s not your fault,” you assure Mingyu, knowing that he has no say over Soonyoung’s behaviour.
“I want to make it up to you,” the beta insists.
“Yeah?” you laugh. “And how are you going to do that?”
“You need clothes,” Mingyu says. “Let me take you to the city, and we can get you something to wear.”
“You know what?” you take a deep breath. “I think that might be the best idea you’ve had all day.”
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Mingyu tries his best not to stare at you. He keeps his gaze fixed on the road the entire drive to town, even as you stick your head out the window and let out a soft sigh as you enjoy the air moving over your skin. He fights the need to ask you questions about yourself, about the life you had in the Arcadia pack, but there’s so much he wants to know.
He tries to be nonchalant as you head into an underwear store, but he can feel his ears burning as he lumbers through the thongs and bras. “I should really wait outside,” he says meekly, but you ignore him, grabbing his hand to tug him along as you pick out panties.
“I need your opinion,” you tell him, holding up two thongs, “Silk or lace?”
Mingyu lets out a deep sigh, eyes shifting to the simple seamless set. They’re more practical for the life the pack lives, and less devastating if they get tort to shreds during an impromptu wolf transformation.
“Really?” you ask, reading his gaze. You hold the red thong up, assessing it. “You really are a simple kind of guy, aren’t you?”
“Are you calling me stupid?”
“No,” you grin. “I just don’t know what I expected from a guy who wears flannel and jeans.”
“You should get what you want,” Mingyu says softly. “You’re the alpha, I’m just a beta. How should I know what you want?”
“Maybe I’ll have to try them all on,” you suggest. 
He feels his throat constrict, and he swallows thickly, giving a quick nod. “Yeah, okay.”
You fill a whole basket with undergarments, and Mingyu feels his heart thundering louder in his chest as you make your way to the change room.
“Oh,” the worker there says when you approach, looking Mingyu up and down, “Men aren’t allowed in the changeroom.”
“How am I supposed to know what he likes if he can’t come in?” you counter.
“I’m sorry ma’am-” the poor worker looks as uncomfortable as Mingyu feels.
“It’s okay,” he assures you. “I’ll just wait out here. In fact, I have an errand to run. You can try all this stuff on and I’ll be back in ten or fifteen.”
He hates the way you frown at the suggestion, but you give in with a sigh. 
Mingyu watches you disappear into the changeroom, and the moment you’re gone, he all but bolts from the store. 
Once outside, he takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. He has to keep his hormones in check- but there’s a need growing in the pit of his stomach, and he’s not sure he can ignore it, especially not if you give him a whole modeling show of underwear-
God, he’s in big trouble.
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“You were gone for twenty minutes,” you say when Mingyu shows up at the lingerie store.
“Yeah, well, it took longer than I thought it would,” the beta sighs, not meeting your eyes.
“What were you even doing?” you press.
“Had to get you a phone,” Mingyu explains, pulling the device out of his pocket. “But it wasn’t just the phone, the sales guy had to talk to me about data plans, and coverage and I-” He shakes his head. “Here, just take it.” 
You look down at the cell, then back up to him. “Why do I need a phone?”
“So you can call people?” he suggests. 
You cock your head to the side. When you’d lived in the wilderness, there was never a need for a phone, let alone the service to make one useful. “Who am I going to call?” 
“Me?” Mingyu coughs awkwardly. “The pack?”
“Fine, I’ll take it,” you concede, grabbing the phone and holding it to your chest. “But only because you’ll have my number. I’m not giving it to the others.”
“Cheol will need it,” Mingyu points out.
“Fine, he can have it too,” you sigh. 
“Did you find some stuff to buy?” the beta asks, looking down at the basket slung over your arm.
“Yup,” you hold up a few pairs of panties. You’d mostly chosen the simple ones, but there are a few racier designs too. “Should we go to the checkout?”
“Yeah,” Mingyu nods, following you to the till. 
When the worker checks all your items through, the cost is pretty high, and you blink in shock at how expensive things like this can be. Mingyu pulls out a card, and pays without a second thought.
He even takes the bag of items, holding it tightly in a hand as you head out of the store.
“Tell Cheol thank you for buying all of this,” you say, immediately assuming Mingyu’s using a pack credit card. Your last living arrangement had had a similar setup, and it’s all you know.
“Oh, uh… Cheol didn’t pay for this,” Mingyu says awkwardly. “I did.”
“You did?” you blink. “The head alpha doesn’t control all the money?”
“No,” Mingyu shakes his head. “We all have jobs and our own banking situations.”
“You have jobs?” 
“Well, Cheol comes from money, so he’s connected to a family business, but most of us do labour, construction, that sort of thing,” Mingyu explains.
“Do I have to get a job?” you ask.
“Sometime down the line,” Mingyu responds. “But for now, I think you should just get used to not being in the forest all the time. You don’t have to pay rent or anything to live on the compound, but if you want to go into town or buy clothes, you’ll probably have to get a job to finance that.”
“Are you sure you can’t just buy things for me?” you tease, poking at Mingyu’s side.
You enjoy the way he swallows, and looks to actually be considering your request. “For now I can,” he says finally.
“I’ll find a job,” you assure him. “I’ve got no references or past experience, but I have things I can do.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Well, I’m pretty good at building things,” you tell him. “My old pack moved around a lot, but when we found places we liked, we could build pretty good cabins out of what was available. They’re not like the cabins you have, but… they’re something.”
“For some reason, I can’t picture you building yourself a cabin.”
“Well,” you consider it for a moment, “let me talk to Cheol, and maybe you’ll get to see me in action yourself.”
Mingyu lets out a laugh. “Now that’s something I’d definitely like to watch.”
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It’s the evening of your second day with the pack when Seungcheol arrives at your cabin door. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” he asks.
“Of course.” You set down the bowl of soup Mingyu had cooked for you, grabbing one of Mingyu’s flannels to put on as you follow the alpha outside. 
He takes you into the field, and the two of you turn to look back at the cabins. “So, I talked to my mom earlier,” Seungcheol says. “She agrees with you about having a few more females come through the compound to help with the birth.”
“That’s good news,” you nod.
“She’s been trying to talk me into it for a while, but, when you showed up and said the same thing- I guess it convinced me,” Seungcheol sighs. “Anyways, a handful of my relatives will be arriving tomorrow. We don’t have cabins for them, so they’ll be bringing RV’s, parking in this field and staying until my mate has our baby. Should be any day now, she’s been having pains recently.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your wife,” you nod sympathetically. You’d watched your own mother go through rough final trimesters, and you can’t imagine what it’s like for a woman without other females around. 
Seungcheol seems like a put together guy, but men with ego can sometimes forget that women can provide things for each other that they can’t. 
“Anyways,” Seungcheol looks at you, “there will be an extra bed or two in some of the RV’s. it’s not a long term solution, but I was thinking you might prefer that over staying with Mingyu.”
“Mingyu’s not so bad.”
“Wonwoo wants his bed back,” Seungcheol smiles. 
“Oh, right,” you nod, gaze shifting to the grass at your feet. “Yeah, I can stay in an RV.”
“I was thinking of asking my mom if we could borrow one, or maybe even buy one. The compound needs more cabins, but those take time, and an RV feels like an easy option in the meantime… Mingyu mentioned you have some experience building structures?”
“I do,” you confirm. 
“How would you feel about being part of the build process?” Seungcheol asks.
“I’d love that,” you say honestly. 
“Usually builds are a pack project,” he explains. “A few of the guys can get a cabin up in month or two- you’d be working with them. Think you can take orders?”
“Depends who’s ordering.”
“Mingyu and Jeonghan usually take care of project plans and direction.” 
“That sounds doable.” 
“Good, then it’s settled.” Seungcheol nods to himself. “The cabin designs we use are for two bedrooms, so you wouldn’t have one to yourself. We’ve been thinking of pack expansion for a while, and with you here, it might be easier to get a female beta to join.”
“I’m really surprised your mate is the only female here,” you admit. “With thirteen male wolves, I would have thought at least a few would have partners.”
“What can I say?” Seungcheol shrugs. “Our pack is a boys club.”
“That’s an understatement.” 
“I heard Soonyoung was giving you trouble.”
You laugh. “Mingyu tells you everything, doesn’t he?” 
“He’s loyal,” Seungcheol nods. “He said you put Soonyoung in his place.”
“I tried, but something tells me Soonyoung didn’t get the message,” you sigh. The alpha has tried to talk to you repeatedly in the short time you’ve been here, and it’s led to you putting yourself practically under cabin house arrest in a bid to avoid him. 
“You still mean what you said about backing me up right? I shouldn’t be worried about you making an alliance with Jihoon or Soonyoung?”
“I’m with you, a hundred percent,” you tell him firmly. 
“That’s good to hear,” Seungcheol admits. “It’s nice to have you in my corner.”
“It’s nice to be in a good alpha’s corner. From what I’ve seen of you, you seem like the kind of guy to follow.”
The alpha rubs the back of his neck, letting out a small laugh. “I appreciate that. Maybe you can convince a few of my cousins to join in when they come, they’ve been pretty adamant about not wanting to have anything to do with me.”
“Well, they’re coming to help your wife give birth, so that’s a step in the right direction,” you point out. 
“I wish I could be as optimistic as you,” Seungcheol sighs. “Anyways, thanks for the chat. I’m glad you found your way to us.”
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It feels nice to have some estrogen amongst all the testosterone in the compound. When the women arrive in their RV’s it’s the first time you feel like you can join the pack for lunch. Picnic tables are pulled up into the field, and fold up chairs are placed around a fire where Seungcheol’s mother roasts meat. 
She wasn’t a born alpha, but she’s an alpha now, and there’s a calm peace that comes with having a matriarch around.
With her, are two of Seungcheol’s aunts, and four cousins. When these seven women combine with you and Seungcheol’s mate, that means there are now nine women puttering about. You’re still outnumbered with men by four, but it feels much closer to even. 
One of Seungcheol’s cousins is very focused on his wife, and she goes into his cabin and doesn’t come out. Two of the others seem to be getting to know Joshua and Jeonghan, which feels like an interesting choice to you. The last cousin, however, is clear that her intentions are set on Mingyu. She follows him around like a lost puppy, and the sight makes you sick to your stomach while you gnaw on your food.
“Look at those two,” Soonyoung says, falling into the chair next to yours. “They’re cute, don’t you think?” 
“Sure, cute.” Your voice is near a growl.
“She’s been into him for years, you know.” The alpha taps his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “Wanted to move here and everything.”
“Then why didn’t she?” You can’t believe you’re humouring him by entertaining this conversation, but you itch to know the gossip he has. Although, you’re not entirely sure you can trust a word coming out of his mouth.
“She was younger then, but now she’s grown.” 
She’s definitely grown, and her low neckline shirt shows just how well she’s grown. 
“Seungcheol would love for her to join the pack,” Soonyoung continues.
“Then maybe she should,” you spit, standing. You’re tired of this, tired of watching little miss Choi Seona hang onto Mingyu’s every word, standing as close to him as possible.
“Where are you going?” the alpha asks.
“For a run,” you say, already tearing off your hoodie.
“Oooh, need company?” 
“No,” you respond firmly. “Don’t you dare follow me.”
If he does, he’ll get a full view of you stripping naked in the field behind your cabin before you take off, and if Soonyoung sees you nude, you might just have to kill him.
Luckily, no one follows you, and you’re able to slip out of your clothes unnoticed, your skin tearing as you transform into a wolf and bolt into the trees.
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You only arrive back at the compound after the sun has set, and instead of heading to the RV, you push through Mingyu’s cabin door. 
Wonwoo is sitting on the couch, and he blinks at you. “What are you doing here?”
“Need to use your shower,” you grumble, hardly looking at Mingyu who is standing in the kitchen stirring a pot of ramen.
“The RV has a shower,” Wonwoo says, and you know he’s not really trying to be helpful. 
“I’m using your shower,” you say, firmly this time, and when you reach the bathroom, you slam the door behind you, locking it.
It’s bad enough that you have to stay in an RV with three of Seungcheol’s cousins, sharing a shower with them might be too much. You hope that by the time you get there, the girls are going to sleep, and you can skip any talks about the day. You have nothing to say to Seona.
The hot shower gives you peace. Your mind has been reeling all day, and it’s nice to finally just relax, letting the water wash over you. For some stupid reason, you hadn’t considered the idea that one of the women coming to the compound would like Mingyu, and you realize now that it had been a major oversight on your part.
Of course at least one of the girls likes Mingyu- what’s not to like? 
He’s big and handsome and kind and caring- 
To make matters worse, the two of them have a history, or so Soonyoung says. 
You wonder if Mingyu has feelings for Seona. You wonder how deep the feelings are.
Pushing the thought from your mind, you finish your shower, taking your time to dry off and slip on your clothes. You’d chosen the panties Mingyu liked in the hopes that one day he might see them- but now, you think that day might not ever come… not of Seona has anything to say about it.
When you exit the bathroom, Mingyu is standing there waiting for you, and Wonwoo is nowhere to be seen.
“Hey, you okay?” he asks, looking at you with concern.
“Of course,” you say curtly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s just… you disappeared at lunch, and you just got back- it’s been hours-”
“Aw, did you miss me, big guy?” you tease, forcing a smile. “That’s cute.”
“I was worried about our deer population,” Mingyu says, and when the side of his mouth quirks up slightly, you realize he’s joking.
“I didn’t kill anything,” you admit. “Just needed to stretch my legs.”
“Do they feel good now?” He looks down at your thighs, bare in the shorts you’re wearing.
“Uh huh,” you nod. “I’m ready to pass out.”
“First night in the RV,” Mingyu muses. “Excited for girl time?”
“No.” 
He laughs. “I didn’t think you would be.”
“Do I not seem like a girls girl kind of girl?” 
“Not really,” he cocks his head. “The good news is they won’t be staying long. Seungcheol’s mom said his mate is really close to giving birth. It’s lucky they arrived when they did. Lucky you convinced Cheol to let them come.”
“I guess we’re all just lucky this week,” you sigh. 
“Yeah…” he looks at you awkwardly, “we are. Or at least… I’ve been feeling lucky lately.”
“Must be nice having a handful of available females around,” you snap, “gives you your pick of the litter.”
“That’s not-” Mingyu’s voice catches. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Sure it wasn’t. Look, I’m tired, I should go.”
“You can take the couch if you want- or my bed, I could have the couch-”
“Wonwoo would hate me more than he already does if I did that,” you sigh. “But thanks for the offer.” 
Mingyu sends you a small smile, and watches you go. As you exit the cabin, he calls out “Goodnight,” and you can’t bring yourself to say it back.
You stomp toward the RV. As you approach, you hear giggles, and you stop, listening by the window. 
“I don’t know guys,” Seona’s voice makes you scowl, “I just think Mingyu is really sweet.”
“He was with you all day,” one of her cousins agrees. “And wasn’t he your first kiss?”
“Shhh! We’re not supposed to talk about that!” Seona whispers, but you can tell the answer is affirmative.
So there is something between Seona and Mingyu. 
Soonyoung hadn’t been lying. 
“I bet he likes you too,” the third cousin muses. 
“He acts like he does,” the other agrees.
You’ve heard enough. 
You can’t stay in the RV with them. Turning, you head back into the woods.
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Mingyu wakes up with excitement coursing through his veins, and it takes a moment for him to remember you’re not in the other room. The morning sun is shining through his window as he pulls on his clothes- it’s funny how only a few days with you has reset his internal clock.
He exits his cabin quietly, not wanting to wake Wonwoo, who has been particularly grumpy since you arrived. Mingyu can’t imagine why though- it’s not like his friend has given you a chance, and he thinks Wonwoo will like you once he puts some effort into getting to know you, the way he has. 
With his hands in his pockets, Mingyu heads to the RV, and he’s pleased to find the door open. He can hear a feminine hustle and bustle, and the smell of coffee makes him smile. “Knock, knock,” he calls softly, peaking his head into the living space.
“Mingyu!” Seona exclaims, rushing over. “How did you sleep?”
“I slept alright,” he nods, scanning the interior in search of you.
“Can I grab you some coffee? I just made a fresh batch, and I make the best in the whole pack.”
“Uh… no thanks,” Mingyu offers her a small smile. “Is y/n around?”
“Nope,” Seona shakes her head. “She never came in last night. We all assumed she was sleeping in one of the cabins.” 
“One of the cabins?” Mingyu’s confused already. “Well she wasn’t with me…”
“Why would she be with you, silly? You’re not an alpha.” 
The smile on Seona’s face tells Mingyu she hadn’t meant it as an insult, but her words still sting. “Well she’s not with Jihoon or Soonyoung, I can tell you that much,” he states.
His words make Seona’s expression fall, and Mingyu also hadn’t meant to be rude, but he can’t help himself. The idea of you spending the night with any of his packmates rubs him the wrong way, and he needs to be certain that the girls visiting don’t think you’re here to find an alpha mate.
“Like I said,” Seona sighs, “she never came in last night.”
“Okay, well, I better go look for her,” Mingyu nods, turning to go.
“But-” Seona starts, however Mingyu’s already walking away, sniffing at the air in the hopes he can catch your scent.
There’d been no rain last night, and no heavy winds, so as he walks into the field, it’s not difficult to catch your smell clinging to the grass. Mingyu guesses he shouldn’t be surprised to find your trail leading into the forest, but at the same time, it makes his stomach twist into knots.
When you’d left at lunch yesterday, there’d been a very real fear in the back of his mind that he wouldn’t see you again, and that fear has returned.
His pace quickens as he reaches the tree line. It’s harder to track you with the forest smells, but Mingyu does his best, stopping at a few points to take deep breaths. You have a note of citrus in your scent, and Mingyu’s come to enjoy the taste of it on his tongue.
But then, the smell stops, and Mingyu finds himself at the foot of a tree. For the life of him, he can’t figure out which way you’ve gone, and he cusses loudly, kicking the pine.
“What the fuck?” 
Your groggy voice causes Mingyu’s head to snap up, and he peers through the branches- locking eyes with you.
“Alpha?” he calls.
“Mingyu?”
He watches you rub your eyes, sitting up on the branch you must have been laying on. “What are you doing up there?” he asks, relief flooding his system.
“Trying to get a decent sleep until someone kicked my bed- why are you out here attacking trees?” you retort. 
“I thought I’d lost your scent-” he tries to explain, which causes you to laugh.
“You were looking for me?” you ask, beginning to climb down.
“Well.. yeah. You weren’t in the RV.”
“Couldn’t spend a night with those girls,” you respond, jumping the last meter and landing on your feet in front of him. “They gossip too much.”
“Really?” Mingyu cocks his head as he looks at you. “Gossiping about what?”
“First kisses, boys, that sort of thing.” You won’t meet his gaze, and Mingyu realizes immediately what you’re talking about.
“Oh,” he says softly.
“Yeah, oh.” You tug your flannel tighter around your body and Mingyu wants to take you in his arms-
“Wait… alpha, are you jealous?”
“No,” you snap. 
“It looks like you’re jealous,” Mingyu points out.
“If you wanna get with Seona then you should get with Seona, why would I care?”
“I don’t want to get with Seona.”
You finally look at him. “You don’t?”
He shakes his head. “It was one kiss, we were both young. It happened years ago.”
“The girls said you were being attentive to her yesterday.”
“As attentive as I can be to Seungcheol’s cousin,” Mingyu explains. “It’s not like I’m going to be rude to her, or any of them.”
“Sometimes I forget you’re just a nice guy,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair and taking a deep breath. Your next words are quiet, “I guess when you were being nice to me, I thought maybe it was more than that.”
He swallows, reaching out to grab your hand. “It was more than that,” Mingyu assures you. 
“Really?” You look up at him and he’s never seen you so vulnerable, so beautiful-
“I don’t just go around buying girls underwear,” he says, which causes you both to laugh. “In case you were wondering.”
“So you’re saying…” you step closer to him, and Mingyu’s body tingles at the proximity. “You like me?”
“That’s probably an understatement,” Mingyu admits.
“Good… I understatedly like you too.” You're still holding his hand, and you give it a small squeeze.
“But-” he blinks at you. “I’m not an alpha or anything-”
“I know you’re not, Gyu,” you laugh. “I think that’s part of why I like you so much. You don’t try to tell me what to do. You don’t try to control me. You just… exist with me. I’m not used to that.”
“I-” Mingyu’s brain is blank. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Maybe you don’t have to say anything,” you suggest, leaning closer. Your gaze dips to his lips, and Mingyu’s tongue darts out to wet them-
You’re about to kiss him, he knows it, and his whole body feels on fire as you close the distance between your chests. 
You let go of his hand, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Do you want to kiss me, Gyu?”
The word ‘yes’ doesn’t even cut it, so instead, he simply presses his lips to your own. It’s not a sweet kiss. It’s not soft, or tentative- it’s hungry, and Mingyu’s hands grab at your hips, tugging you closer. 
Your tongue glides over his own and Mingyu groans loudly, fingers digging into your flannel. He’s not sure what’s come over him, but he simply can’t help himself. He leans down, grabbing at your ass and lifting you off the ground.
Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, a mewl escaping you as Mingyu presses you back against the tree, pinning you there while he continues to kiss you like he’s never kissed anyone in his whole life.
You feel perfect in his arms, and he could get drunk from your lips. Mingyu can already feel his cock straining against his jeans, a need surging through him like never before.
Mingyu had thought he’d lost you - if even for a moment - and he’s not willing to lose you ever again. He doesn’t want you running into the woods anymore when you’re having emotions, he wants you running to him, and he kisses you as if to say ‘please, never leave.’
He had always thought Seungcheol would be his alpha, but you’d shown up and flipped his world upside down. Mingyu doesn’t care about appeasing his friend anymore- all he cares about is appeasing you- pleasuring you, giving you everything you could ever possibly want, everything you could ever need. 
Nothing in Mingyu’s life has ever felt this right before, and he gets lost in the feeling of you as you claw at his shoulders, kissing him harder and taking his breath away.
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You can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe Mingyu has you pressed to a tree, his mouth hot against your own- 
After so many conflicting emotions in the past twenty four hours, this turn of events has you reeling- or maybe that’s just Mingyu. No one has ever kissed you like this before- like you’re the very air they need to breathe. 
He’s intoxicating, and you need more. 
“Gyu,” you gasp against his lips.
He hums, moving his mouth to your throat, peppering your skin in wet kisses that have you groaning.
“Put me down,” you say, voice shaky.
He doesn’t question you, setting you onto the forest floor-
And then you’re pushing at his chest. “Get on the ground,” you command him.
His pupils are blown with lust and he takes a haggard breath, then he does what you’ve asked of him. He stumbles back, landing in the grassy dirt. 
You’re on him not a moment later, straddling his hips and cupping his face, grinding down against his lap while your need for him grows between your legs. You’ve soaked through your panties, but you can’t bring yourself to care-
He feels like heaven below you, seated upright, hands grabbing at your waist and the small of your back, holding you firm to him while you swivel your hips. 
Your kisses move to his throat, teeth grazing by his jugular, and the beta below you shivers. “Alpha-” 
God, it feels so good to have him addressing you properly, to be giving himself to you like this-
“I wanna fuck you,” you tell him. “I wanna fuck you so bad-”
“Please,” he practically whimpers, and the sound has you moaning loudly. 
You apply pressure to his shoulders again, and he falls flat to the ground, looking up at you while trying to catch his breath. 
He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to say anything. 
It’s just you and him, nothing else matters-
A scream cuts through the trees, and your head whips in the direction of the sound. “Did you hear that?” you ask, freezing, your hips coming to a stop while you sit on top of the beta.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Mingyu groans, fingers digging into your skin, urging you to pick up your motions again.
The noise rings again, clearer this time, and you realize immediately what it is. “Shit!” you gasp, jumping to your feet. “The baby is coming!” 
“Now?!” Mingyu sits up abruptly.
“Now,” you confirm. “I have to go.” You lean down to kiss him one last time. “We’ll continue this later,” you promise, and then you’re running through the woods back to the compound. 
Your heart is racing in your chest. You’ve never run this hard before, and your muscles scream at you, but you push on, knowing that you need to get to Cheol’s mate. You need to be there for the birth- it will solidify you as part of the pack, and Hell, lives could be at risk.
You push out of the tree line, eyes zoning in on Seungcheol’s cabin. Women are running around, and a few of the men too. Seungcheol looks wild as you approach, darting up the stairs two at a time-
His hand stops you before you can go through the door. “You smell like Mingyu,” he says.
“Are we really doing this now?!” you ask, breathless. “I need to go help your wife!”
He lets go of your arm, and you enter the cabin, knowing that the next few hours are going to be crucial for not only you, but the entire pack.
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Four hours after arriving to the delivery cabin, you exit it, looking around at the male pack outside. You’d thought it best to leave Seungcheol’s wife with his own family, and after the difficult labour, you need an estrogen break. You also need to let everyone know how things went, especially Cheol, who hadn’t been allowed inside due to the small space already being full of female wolves intent on keeping things as calm as possible.
One look at Seungcheol tells you he’s the furthest thing from calm- and you offer him a small smile. “Congratulations, you have a son,” you tell him softly.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, taking in your blood soaked flannel.
“The baby had the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, but luckily for you, two of my brothers were born that way too. We sorted it out. Your mate, and your son, are both looking perfectly healthy.”
There are tears in Seungcheol’s eyes, and he moves to go past you, to enter the cabin, but then he stops, grabbing your arm. “We’ll have to talk about you and Mingyu later,” he warns, voice low.
“I expected nothing less,” you nod.
The alpha releases your arm, entering the cabin and shutting the door behind him.
Mingyu’s the next person in front of you, taking in your clothes. “I-” he reaches out and wipes some blood off your face. “I don’t-”
“You don’t have to say anything,” you assure him. You can tell by the way his gaze dips to your lips that he wants to kiss you, but you’re much too dirty for that, covered in all sorts of fluids you have no wish to spread across Mingyu’s pretty features.
“You need a shower,” he tells you. “And new clothes.”
“Not a shower,” you state. “I need a nature cleanse after all of this.”
“I know a river nearby,” Mingyu nods.
“Let’s go,” you say softly, ignoring the rest of the pack as you follow Mingyu down the stairs.
An unexpected hand reaches out and pats you on the shoulder, and you turn to see Jihoon nodding at you. “Good job.”
Another hand reaches out, then two more- they’re all avoiding the blood on the front of your shirt, going for back rubs, and you’re shocked to find that the touch isn’t unwelcome.
It feels like acceptance. Like you’re truly part of the pack now.
Even Soonyoung offers you a small smile as you walk past, and your skin feels alive with emotion as you head with Mingyu to the tree line.
The beta doesn’t say anything as he leads you through the forest, and you prefer it that way. You’ve just had to listen to a woman scream and cry and give birth for hours- the silence makes way for the noises of the forest, and they wash over you, relaxing your tense muscles.
Five minutes of quiet bliss go by, and then Mingyu tells you you’re close to the river. You can hear it over the sound of wind brushing through the trees, and the smell of running water hits your nose.
Your pace quickens, and soon, you reach a small alcove. The river has cut a chunk out of the hillside, and the water is still in comparison to the rush beyond. It looks clean, clear, and welcoming. 
Without a second thought, you strip your shirt and bra off, tossing them onto the rocks. Your pants come next, and soon, you’re completely naked, stepping into the cool alcove.
When you look over your shoulder, you find Mingyu gawking at you, still completely dressed.
“Aren’t you going to join me?” you ask, ignoring the icy water as you wade to your hips. 
The beta tears his flannel off, and you turn away, reaching down to cup the water and wash it over your skin. The liquid tints a soft red colour as you brush away the blood, working your hands over yourself until you’re clean. 
You can hear the lapping of water as Mingyu approaches you, and then his large, warm body is wrapping around your back, pulling you tight to his chest.
“You’re amazing,” he breathes, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” you retort, turning in his embrace and encircling your arms around the back of his neck. Your breasts press against his bare chest, and he looks down at you with eyes full of wonder.
His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and then he’s kissing you softly. 
You melt against him, letting out a groan- 
You’d been in midwife mode, but the feelings of what had taken place just before hearing the initial scream come back quickly. The need you have for Mingyu returns with full force and you deepen the kiss, gliding your tongue against his bottom lip. 
He stifles a moan, reaching down to grab your hips, pulling you flush to his body. You can feel his hard length trapped between you, and your pussy flutters at the realization that his cock is as big as the rest of him.
Before you can reach for him, Mingyu’s hand is slipping between you, his fingers seeking out your clit, and you moan loudly in his mouth. “I wanna-” he swallows, breaking the kiss to look down at you. “I wanna say you’re wet, but we’re in a river.” 
“I’m wet,” you confirm, digging your nails into his broad shoulders. “You feel so good-”
His lips move down to your neck, and he finds your sweet spot much too fast. You gasp loudly, tangling your fingers in his hair while you grind down against his hand, his digits rubbing harder on your clit.
“No, you feel so good,” he grumbles, breath hot on your throat, making you twitch.
His touch rubs lower, teasing your opening, and you whimper in his embrace. Your eyes close and you lean toward him, resting your forehead on his shoulder while he presses a digit into your core. 
“Shit, alpha,” Mingyu gasps. “You’re so tight-”
“Guess… guess you better work me open if I’m going to take you properly,” you tell him, tugging gently on his hair.
“Yes, alpha,” Mingyu pants, moving his finger in and out of your pussy, “I can do that.”
When you open your eyes and look down, you’re enthralled by his pretty cock, bobbing just below the water. You let go of his hair in favour of wrapping your hand around his length and Mingyu groans loudly by your ear. 
“You’re so big,” you whisper, marveling at how your fingers can’t even touch as you slowly move up and down his shaft. “My big, sweet, beta.”
Mingyu moans again, pressing fevered kisses against your throat and your under jaw. He likes praise, and luckily for you both, you like praising him. 
“Such a good beta for me,” you continue, gasping when he fucks his digit into your harder, palming your clit. “Stretching me so good- add another finger Gyu, I need it.”
You groan when he follows through, your pussy fluttering to accommodate the second intrusion. 
The cold water is lapping at your sides, his forearm flexing with effort while he finger fucks you closer and closer to the edge. Your own hand is still wrapped around him, and you tease your thumb over the slit, making him gasp loudly.
“You like that, big guy?” You smile, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. 
“Yes, alpha,” he nods, sucking on your earlobe. 
“But you’re not going to cum until you’re inside me, right?” you question.
“No, I can-” he lets out a strangled sound when you pump him harder, “I can wait.”
“Good puppy.” 
He whimpers at the pet name, licking your throat while his fingers continue inside of you. 
You swivel your hips, grinding down against his palm, driving his digits deeper into your pussy while moans slip past your lips.
“Gyu,” you whisper, “I’m gonna cum.”
“Please, cum, alpha. Please cum for me,” he begs, sounding as needy as you’ve ever heard him.
Your pussy flutters at his words, and he continues to edge you on, moaning “please” softly in your ear until you’re on the cusp of pleasure. 
“Gyu,” you groan, closing your eyes as your body tenses-
“Come on, alpha,” he encourages you. “Cum on my fingers.” 
Your brain short circuits as your pussy clamps down on him, waves of ecstasy rolling through you, making you shudder in his embrace. 
“You sound so good,” he praises you, sucking on your throat while his fingers continue inside of you, helping you through your orgasm until you’re gasping and clawing at his shoulder, tightening your grip on his cock. “Fuck, alpha-” he groans. 
“Need you inside of me,” you tell him, letting go of his length to steady your hands on his shoulders. 
He pulls his fingers out of your core, grabbing your ass to lift you up. Your legs wrap around his hips and one of his hands lines his cock with your pussy. His eyes look into yours, as if he’s asking permission, and you nod, bracing yourself for the stretch that comes a moment later.
“Fuck-” you groan, burying your face against his throat as he begins to fill you up.
Two digits were big, but his cock is bigger, and your inner walls work to accommodate him as he pushes in inch by inch.
You’re trembling by the time he’s fully inside of you, your hips pressed together. His lips press kisses to your hair, and his fingers dig against your hips. 
“You feel like Heaven,” he breathes.
“But you better fuck me like Hell,” you retort, swallowing thickly as you get used to his size. 
“You got it, alpha,” Mingyu nods.
Something tells you even if you weren’t in the river alcove, Mingyu could fuck you like a beast carrying you in this position, but the water makes it even easier for him to maneuver your body. It almost feels effortless, if it weren’t for his large biceps bulging as he begins to rut into you.
God, he’s so fucking pretty-
His cock hits all your spots, filling you just right. 
If you’d been lost in his kisses, you’re practically brain dead from his cock. You’re clinging to his shoulders, eyes closed in bliss as he pleasures you, rutting into you faster and harder, making the water lap loudly at your sides.
Mingyu’s groaning in your ear, and the sound makes your pussy flutter around him, which only makes him louder. “Alpha-” he cries desperately, grip digging into your ass.
“That’s it, puppy,” you coo, threading your fingers through his hair. “You’re doing so good for me-”
He’s panting now, and you realize he must be close. You suppose that’s what happens when he gets to finger fuck you to an orgasm but you make him wait after stroking him off.
You hadn’t thought about what do to with his cum when you’d entered the water, and now, you’re realizing you’re going to have to make him pull out.
After just helping Seungcheol’s mate give birth, you’ve discovered you don’t want kids anytime soon, and Mingyu cumming inside of you could pose a bit of a problem to your future plans.
You’re going to hate to do this to him- even though you know he won’t protest.
In the dark corners of your mind, part of you plays with the idea of him refusing to pull out. Of him going full alpha and negating your wishes, of him filling you to the brim with his cum and forcing you to feel all of him. 
But you don’t want an alpha. You want him. And it feels like freedom to be fucking a beta who is going to listen to your every word.
“Gyu,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair.
He grunts.
“You can’t cum inside of me,” you tell him.
“Fuck, right- yeah,” he nods, swallowing thickly. “I can pull out.”
“But you’ll make me cum first, right?” you question.
God, it might just kill him to fuck you while you cum and hold off his own orgasm, only to pull out of you and jack off into the stupid river-
“Yes alpha, I’ll make you cum,” he promises, fucking you harder. “Please, I’m close- I need you to cum-”
“I’m close too,” you assure him, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of his massive cock stretching out your pussy. You can feel a vein running along the underside of his length, that’s how big he is, and it makes your toes curl. “Shit, puppy-”
“Please,” he whimpers, and you realize he’s nearly overstimulated. 
Having Mingyu completely undone while he fucks you is the cherry on top of your pleasure, and you let out a choked gasp, holding onto him tightly while your second orgasm slams into you.
Your pussy clamps down on his cock and Mingyu lets out a loud moan, fingers digging into your hips roughly. He’s panting hard, cussing all sorts of swear words into your ear while he fucks you through your high, taking care of you until you’re done.
The moment you push at his shoulders, he pulls out of you, letting you onto your feet while he wraps a hand around his cock-
“No, let me,” you insist, pushing his fingers out of the way so you can grab his aching length with both fists. 
You press your lips to his neck, kissing him and licking at his sensitive skin while you jack him off, and a second later he’s letting out a deep moan in the back of his throat. It’s something near a growl, and it’s one of the sexiest sounds you’ve ever heard.
“That’s it, puppy,” you praise. “Cum for me. Cum for me, big guy, just like that-”
“Alpha,” he whimpers, body jerking as your touch overstimulates him, and when he’s done, he pushes your hands away from his throbbing cock, struggling to catch his breath. 
He leans down, resting his forehead against yours while you both stand there panting. 
“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you tight to his chest. His heart is racing wildly, and you smile against his skin, pressing soft kisses there. “That was so good,” he tells you. “You’re so good-”
“You did all the work,” you whisper, holding him tighter.
“No, I just did what alpha asked me too,” he argues. 
You decide to let him win this one, and you melt against his warm chest, snuggling closer. 
You’re not sure how long you stand like that, but when Mingyu finally lets you go, he cups your jaw, bringing your lips to his.
“I love you,” he murmurs, and it makes your body tense. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said it-”
“No,” you assure him, pressing your hand on his chest. “I love you too.”
“You do?” Mingyu blinks down at you.
You nod. “In fact… I would have marked you, made you mine, but… I have to talk to Seungcheol first.”
“Right,” Mingyu swallows, “Seungcheol.” 
“You remember your other alpha, right, big guy?” you laugh.
“Yeah.” The beta runs a hand through his hair, gaze shifting to the rocky shore. “We should probably head back.”
“That might be a good idea,” you concede. “Seungcheol probably needs you right now.”
Mingyu nods, grabbing your hand and leading you back to the water’s edge. 
He lets you out first, and you have the suspicion he’s staring at your ass.
“Take my flannel,” Mingyu tells you. “Your clothes are ruined.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” you grin, reaching down for the long shirt that acts like a dress as you wrap it around your naked form. 
Mingyu tugs on his jeans, and you fish your panties out of your clothes, slipping them on. 
“You know, I got these so you could see me in them,” you admit, showing him your ass, “But you hardly got to enjoy them before we got in the water.”
“I have time to enjoy them,” he assures you, pulling you in for a kiss.
He smiles against your lips, and you laugh, looking up at him. “What?”
“I’m just thinking… thinking about the day you arrived here. How I gave you my shirt then, and now here we are, with you in another flannel.”
“You were my knight in shining armour,” you tell him, heart swelling at the memory.
“I can’t explain it,” Mingyu says, “but part of me knew even then- I knew that you were going to change everything. I’m so happy you came to us.”
You beam up at your new mate. “Me too.”
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You’re not surprised to find Seungcheol waiting for you when you arrive back at the cabins. He’s on his porch, holding a tiny bundle of blankets, and he stands when you and Mingyu exit the forest.
“I’m going to go talk to him,” you tell Mingyu.
“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks.
“I think this is something he’ll want to discuss alone, you know, alpha business.” You gently elbow Mingyu’s side and he flashes you a smile.
“Whatever you say,” he agrees, breaking off from you to head toward his own cabin while you approach the alpha watching you. 
“Hi,” you greet Seungcheol, stopping at the steps. 
“Hi,” he responds, gaze following Mingyu. 
“That’s a cute baby you’ve got there,” you offer, hoping to break some of the tension you’re feeling.
“He wouldn’t be here without you,” Seungcheol nods. “My mother said you pulled your weight today, and I wanted to thank you.”
“No need,” you assure him. “I was happy to help… is your mate asleep?”
“Yeah, she needs rest.” Seungcheol starts down the stairs. “Come walk with me.”
The two of you head out into the field, and you wait for Seungcheol to start the conversation you know you’re about to have.
The alpha stops in the middle of the open space, looking back at the cabins. “Is it real?” he asks finally.
“Hmm?”
“You and Mingyu,” Seungcheol clarifies, gently rocking the baby in his arms. “Is it real.”
“Yeah,” you nod, licking at the grass and everting your eyes. “I felt something the moment I saw him.”
“He’s a good guy,” Seungcheol sighs. “An even better beta, and the best right-hand man I could have ever asked for.”
“You’re lucky to have him,” you agree. “And he knows how lucky he is to have you as an alpha.”
“And that’s how it’s always going to be,” Seungcheol breathes. “I’m his alpha. I can’t have him torn between us if disagreements ever arise. I could manage if someone else was loyal to you, but not him.”
“He’s still loyal to you,” you insist. “As I said when we met, I’m not looking to be a leader. He can be your right-hand man, and I can be your… left-hand woman.” You both chuckle at the notion. “No one will challenge you with me and Mingyu at your side.”
“I guess there’s truth in that,” Seungcheol admits. 
“I admire you,” you continue. “Not only did you not choose an omega as a mate, you chose a human, and you made her into a beta. I don’t know many alphas that can say that. I think… I think if you get to choose your mate, I should be able to as well.”
“Is that an alpha suggestion, or your personal opinion?”
“Just an opinion,” you say softly. 
There are a few beats of silence, and you listen to the wind rustling through the trees. It’s shocking how much has changed in just a few days. New life in the pack, both the baby and you. New love too.
“I don’t know you that well yet,” Seungcheol says, choosing his words carefully. “But if Mingyu trusts you, then I guess I do too.”
“Really?” you look at the alpha, eyes widening.
Seungcheol doesn’t meet your gaze, he continues looking out at the cabins, but he gives a curt nod. “If you both like each other as much as you obviously do, who am I to come between that?”
“Well, you’re the alpha, so the decision is really up to you-”
“No,” Seungcheol shakes his head. “This isn’t the sort of thing I want to be a deciding authority on. And… if it’s any consolation, the two of you have my blessing.”
Your breath catches, and your throat feels dry. “Thank you,” you say, voice cracking. “I uh… Thank you.”
“No need,” Seungcheol smiles, repeating the words you’d said to him only a minute ago. “Just…” he turns to face you, “don’t break his heart, yeah?”
“Alpha,” you laugh, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good,” Seungcheol nods. “Welcome to the pack.”
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm such a simp for simp beta gyu-
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🔮 preview. “You’re so pretty,” your mate groans, one of his large hands sneaking up to cup your breast. His thumb brushes over your nipple and you whimper at the feeling. Mingyu sits up suddenly, adjusting a palm to the floor so he can keep himself up while his lips seek out your breasts. He starts by sucking a mark into your skin, letting out a deep sound of pleasure while pressing his face between your boobs. You place your hands on his shoulders, using him as leverage to fuck him harder. The sound of your thrusts fills the small room, and you can hear how wet you are with each bounce. You bet Jeonghan and Joshua can hear it too.
cw/ tw. Protected sex, vouyerism (sex while others listen), slight exhibitionism (sex in an unfinished cabin), size kink, boob worship, mentions of claim marks, big dick Mingyu, praise, dirty talk, mutual orgasm, blow job, deep throating,  etc… I pet names: (hers) alpha. (his) big guy, puppy.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 400
🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader
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bonus
It’s not that working on building cabins out in the forest had been easy, but nothing compares to the difficulties of trying to focus on a build while Mingyu walks around shirtless, skin glistening in the sun with sweat. His scent perfumes the locations he’s working on, and it’s been three straight weeks of you trying desperately to ignore the wet of your panties sticking to your core.
The structure is definitely coming together though, and each day brings you closer to having a place you can call your own. Fucking Mingyu in the RV has been… interesting to say the least. He’s just so big- he doesn’t fit in the tiny bunk bed, so he’s taken to fucking you against the walls, the whole wheeled home rocking-
In fact, a few of your new packmates have come up with the saying, ‘When the RV’s a’ rockin’ don’t come a knockin'. You’re much too used to fogged up windows and biting into a pillow to stop screams from escaping the badly insulated vehicle, and the idea that soon you’ll have a cabin to fuck him in is making you all the more eager to get the project complete.
“When do you think we’ll get this done?” you ask, looking over Jeonghan’s shoulder at the project plans as you finish up for the day.
“Two weeks?” he suggests. “We’ve been making good time on this. Our window guys is set to come in a few days and then after that we just have to set up plumbing and electrical, then furnishings-” Jeonghan lets out a deep breath, considering all the moving parts. “Yeah, I could see you and Mingyu moving in here pretty soon.”
“Mingyu’s not moving in with me,” you insist.
Jeonghan flashes you a knowing smile. “Sure he isn’t.” The wolf rolls up the cabin plans, looking around the space. “You know, even though the windows aren’t in yet, I’m pretty sure if you and Mingyu wanted to christen the place, it’s far enough from everyone else that you could get away with it without Seungcheol knowing and getting mad.”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you smirk.
“That’s me, I’m just full of good ideas,” Jeonghan returns your grin. “But at the same time… if you wanted us to hear you two, if you wanted to be loud, I don’t think any of us would mind.”
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general taglist
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RM! Miguel O'Hara headcanons (SFW)
(Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist
College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader
summary: In light of the most recent chapter of my college au fic, Rigor mortis; here are some headcanons I have for this version of Miguel <3 .
warnings: none, just fluff :)
a/n: trying to get out of bad writer's block with some drabbles. looking through my asks and making my way through them rn!
wc: 0.5k
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He's meant to wear reading glasses but literally never does. You see him squinting at shit all over the apartment, and it only really clicks when you catch him early in the morning (because I know he wakes up at disgusting hours in the day to be productive) and he's got a pair on.
He gives amazing gifts. I feel like he's really detail oriented so he'll take forever to choose meaningful gifts. Not even necessarily expensive; just something that shows he pays attention to conversations: like that item of clothing you loved but can’t afford, something super specific for your hobbies, a whole bunch of books you like because you just mentioned a specific author or genre you love.
Conversely, he's the kind of person that's really difficult to buy gifts for. Everything that he could possibly want, he'll just buy for himself; his interests are too niche for you to buy him tools and things; and he'd give you absolutely bs answers when you ask him straight up. You'd be like, hey, I know your birthday’s soon, what do you want; and he'll say oh, I just want you to be happy, or I have everything I need right here, baby. And you'll be like ok cool, is that yes or a no on the ipad? 
Coffee addict. Has all the expensive machines and fancy filters. He lives pretty modestly, but it is the one thing he'll really invest in. 
Similarly, will collect old tech and gadgets just to fiddle around with. He has a box of junk underneath his bed that lowkey he’s been building up since he was a kid. I feel like he was such a curious kid and all his tías and tíos would pinch his cheeks and pat his head and give him all their old junk because he shows an interest.
Sleeps like a dad on the couch. Especially after a long day. He stretches out on the sofa like a cat with his hand on bare belly and it is simultaneously super fucking funny and kind of hot??? Like you can see his happy trail and that peek of tan skin and you just knoww that v line is sharp asf.
He talks to himself. Especially after a frustrating day, and it's pretty funny to watch. He becomes so animated and will have a whole ass conversation with himself whilst chopping veg, or something. He'd wave the knife around, playing both sides of a situation. It helps him to decompress and logically reason with difficult problems. It's something he will 10000% deny if you bring it up. 
He's funny. Not necessarily laugh out loud, quippy one liners; but he has a super dry sense of humor. He's fond of a deadpan, and will often play it straight whilst saying something ridiculous. I feel like no-one usually gets when he's being sarcastic, but for some reason you do, and it makes his eyes go wide the first time. Like you catch something he says under his breath and laugh; and he's stuttering because people don't usually have the same kind of humor as him. 
long story short, he's a big ol' softie. more bark than bite :)
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staenless · 9 days
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STEDDIE OMEGAVERSE LUNCHBOX FIC PART 2
He put the kettle on to boil, then set the ingredients out on the counter. Kiwis, left over chilli from last night, a wrap, quarter of a cabbage, cheese, the special trail mix he has to travel across town for, yogurt. Was that enough protein? Carbs?
The kettle finished boiling. He steeped his teabag in silence, eyes fixed beyond the kitchen window to that small patch on the lawn. He had taken a hand shovel to it yesterday, swung up and down and chopped up the kikuyu until a neat square had revealed itself to him. The back of his neck stung from sunburn when he'd lain down beside Tommy last night. Today he'd hack and slash a second square, then buy the seeds and sow them before Tommy could get up in arms about it'd look to the neighbours-colleagues-friends that they were growing their own vegetables. How it would look, common and subsistant, and that store bought was fine, better actually, since it came with a label and price tag. He should stick to store bought tomatoes.
Steve thought about the note in the lunch box. Tommy hadn't brought a note back since Steve had started making him lunch, when their parents decided on their courtship. Steve had once thought Tommy kept them, saved them in a memory box like the lovesick fool Steve thought they could both be. He'd felt sick watching Tommy crumple it up without reading from across the cafeteria, had left in a fuss and a hurry to stare at himself in the school bathroom mirror and drown himself in self loathing. He had been stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. And stupider still when he wrote the notes every morning since, unable to give up on the charade to himself or others. If he couldn't have that life then he'd fake it.
He drained the last of his tea, then rinsed the mug. He began to chop the cabbage. The note, safely tucked in his grandma's recipe book, heated the burn on the back of his neck. Tommy had given his lunch away. He'd done it before, no doubt, but for some reason the Alpha who'd gotten it this time returned the note. Had scented the note and returned it, and Tommy hadn't even noticed when he'd tossed the lunch box onto the breakfast bar when he'd returned last night. He layered the cabbage onto the centre of the wrap.
He began to grate the cheese. Steve wasn't mad at Tommy, for passing on his lunch or not noticing the other Alphas scent. Tommy had probably been passing off his lunch for years, Steve wasn't so naive to think Tommy cared about handmade lunches. And in a twisted way Steve was glad the note had traveled safely to his kitchen, had sat patiently till Tommy was in his office having a tumbler of whiskey before making itself known. Had told him someone ate his meal, and had enjoyed it. If the only acknowledgment he'd get was from a stranger, he'd take it. He layered the cheese over the cabbage, then the chilli over that. He folded the wrap closed, sliced it in half, then neatly packed the two halves in the first tin.
The kiwi needed peeling, and he slowly worked his knife round and round under the soft furry skin. Tommy complained about the hair on kiwis the same way he complained about the hair on Steve. Got stuck in his teeth, was offputting and disgusting and had no place covering up something - someone - so sweet and meant for his consumption. The kiwi was neatly sliced then stacked and tilted into the second tin. The trail mix went into a reusable cupcake shell, and the yogurt into a small Tupperware next to it.
Steve's notepad sat patiently on the counter, pen poised above it and tensed with thought. The alphas scent had been soft, likely from scent blockers, yet unmistakably peppery and dry. It reminded Steve of the dry grasses in fields beside his grandma's old farm house. In autumn, when hot dry winds beat the land dry in preparation for winter. Hed run out to the fields, uncaring for the cuts the sharp grass left, and huffed the scent up. It smelt different from anything in the suburbs, more alive than the rickety farmhouses thatch, but ancient in comparison to prickly autumn lawns. Beneath that dry grass sat a distinct peppery smell, like spices heated in warm oil. Pepper and... Lemon rind? Steve wanted to fetch the note out and sniff at it again, but reigned himself in. It was still early morning, he was still packing Tommy's lunch and he was still a doting hustband.
His notepad stared up at him, large and white and questioning his hesitation. He could write anything, Tommy wouldn't read it and there was no guarantee the other alphas would get it. Still, as pen went to paper and he carefully looped his letters, he hoped someone would read the note. Would acknowledge him and his effort, his love that went to strangers and came empty and uncaring home. Just for someone to read his note, to know that he existed, somewhere out there, and he made this lunch with his own to hands. He slipped the note into the tin, then clipped them together with a clack and set them aside for Tommy to grab on his way out. Time to make breakfast.
Sorry this took forever to get out lol, I was lazy and avoided writing. As someone who hasn't written creatively since highschool launching myself into a full multichapter fic was probably kinda a bad idea... But I always was more of a deep-end kinda person so I will persevere.
Taglist: @xxbottlecapx @goodolefashionedloverboi @stevesbipanic @monsterloverforhire
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indulgentdaydream · 4 months
Text
Cooking Lessons
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Jason Todd X Reader
My first x reader fic! Of course I had to go with jason. He’s the love of my life🥰 inspired by me not knowing how to properly cut a bell pepper yesterday and wishing somebody (cough cough, jason, cough) had been there to help me
(ps. for anyone who also doesn’t know how to cut a bell pepper!)
Not proof read!!
Warnings: use of feminine pet names (ex, princess) food mention, knife mention, knife use, one (1) use of profanity.
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Jason walked into the kitchen, sweating from his workout. He found you standing at the counter, your back to him. You had a knife in hand, chopping something up. He opened the fridge to grab himself some water. He could smell the spices of whatever you were cooking in the pan to your left.
He walked up beside you. He placed a hand on the small of your back as he looked down. There was chicken cooking in the pan and you were cutting up a bell pepper, “What you cooking, princess?”
“Quesadillas,” You hummed, focused on your task at hand. There was a cooking book open off to your right, set on top of the microwave
Jason hummed in response, smiling, “Smells good.”
He continued to watch you chop. Your hand moved slowly. You set the pepper on it’s side before cutting it in half, straight through the centre. The seeds inside spread all over the knife. You began to awkwardly cut around the centre, further making a mess of getting the seeds everywhere. He grew a little concerned as he kept watching, “Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“Who taught you how to cut up a pepper?”
Your shoulders dropped a little, your hand stilling. You looked up at Jason with a defeated look, “Nobody…”
He chuckled. He leaned in and kissed the pout on your lips, “May I?”
You nodded. He set down his water before moving in behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his arms under yours. He picked up another bell pepper, a dark green.
He placed it on the board, placing his hands over yours. His chin rested on your shoulder as he spoke, “First, you gotta cut off the stem.”
He guided your hands, enjoying the small giggle that escaped you at the sight of his large, calloused, scarred hands resting over your smaller ones, nearly engulfing them.
He spoke calmly and slowly, “Now, you flip it on it’s head, where the stem was. See the bumps? You cut down to chop those off.”
You hummed, “Like this?”
Jason nods, “Just like that.” He pulls his hands off yours, bringing them back to rest on your hips, letting you do it yourself.
“See?” He says when you finish, leaving the untouched centre, with all the seeds still intact, leftover, “This way, you can take the pieces you cut off, flatten them out, and they’re easier to cut,” He pauses, “Plus, you don’t make a mess of the seeds.”
He picks up the centre for you, tossing it into the small open compost bin sitting on the window sill of the kitchen. You shrug, picking up on of the pieces you had cut before, covered in the tiny white pellets that were the seeds, “I was just gonna wash it off with water.”
He lets out a low, thoughtful hum, “Waste o’ water.”
You mimic his hum and cast him a look over your shoulder, where he still rests his chin, “Not what you said last night when you dragged me into the shower with you.”
A grin pulls at Jason’s lips. He raises his eyebrows a little, amused, “That’s why we gotta counteract our water usage, princess.” He straightens, planting a kiss on your cheek, “It doesn’t help that your knife is a bit dull. I’ve got a sharpener in my duffle, though.”
You didn’t realize what he meant until he had already stepped out of the kitchen. You whipped around, “Jason Peter! You are not using the same thing you sharpen your blades with on my kitchen knives!”
He steps back in, holding his hands out, “It’s clean!”
You stared at him, “I do not believe you.”
She caught Jason’s smile before he nodded at the stove beside her, “Chicken’s burning.”
“Shit!”
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dearhargrove · 1 month
Text
Reassurance
summary You comfort Evan after he has to deal with his parents over the course of four days.
word count 730
tags fluff, just someone being there for my bb buck, short and sweet
a/n So basically I was watching the Buck Begins episode and died every minute where his parents neglected him and generally every second of that episode :( so expect some more Buck fics to come (Eddie too tho !!)
masterlist
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You didn't know but you were probably the sole reason Buck wasn't completely breaking down every day he wakes up and has to deal with the two people that call themselves his parents.
After the first dinner he had felt bad, but he'd felt like he usually does with them. Alone, unwanted and never enough. That day he'd come home to you, quiet and dull.
You hadn't made him talk about it when he didn't start explaining himself, instead you simply wrapped your arms around him and held him close. That's when he'd felt loved. That night he waited until you had fallen asleep before letting himself cry.
What did he expect? For some reason he had hoped they'd changed. Or at least that they would be proud of him. After all, he'd saved a lot of people and does so every day. Instead he is reminded that they hadn't bothered to check on him when he almost died twice - first by being crushed and second because of the blood clots - and then laid in the hospital.
Those were the people supposed to love him no matter what and all he got was constant criticism.
That night you had woken up not long after him because of his missing warmth. With a worried expression you'd found him and once again, held him close. He had melted into your arms, tears starting to fall again as he clutched you close as if scared to lose you.
After reassurance you would gladly give any day you had gone back to bed, your hand on his cheek and caressing his birthmark.
Today you hadn't even known Buck would see them or be confronted by their doings. The last time you'd heard about them was when he explained that he had a brother. That he was only conceived to be a match for a bone marrow transplant.
That night had been harder than the one before. You're quite sure no matter how much you tried to show him that he wasn't just a failed way to save someone you don't think it got completely through to him. And you didn't blame him; you couldn't imagine living with something like that weighing you down.
You're in his kitchen trying one of Bobby's recipes when the door opens and Buck comes in. You could read him like a book; there wasn't a moment you weren't able to tell what he was feeling. But now? You genuinely didn't know.
He was frowning but there's a smile resting on his face and his eyes are red.
“Buck?”
He looks up, seeing you there in his sweater with a knife in your hand as you chop vegetables for a recipe from Bobby he loved, and he breaks. But instead of simply crying he chuckles, too.
“Buck, what's going on?” Your voice is worried and he just shakes his head as he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his forehead to yours. You put the knife down and reach up to cup his face and your index finger soothes over his birthmark, something you'd made a habit over the year of being with him.
“I think they're finally accepting me for.. me.” He only says and you sigh but nod. He notices your slight apprehension and quickly adds on, “But I don't want them to. I don't need their acceptance. They don't decide how much I'm worth.”
Your mouth forms an ‘o’ in surprise but you laugh breathlessly and nod, “Exactly. You're saving lives on the daily, you don't need anyone to tell you how good you are. Not your parents, not your friends, not me.”
He nods along until the last part where he cocks his head and looks at you with his signature half smirk. “I do need you to tell me how good I am, actually.” That makes you smile as well and you sigh, “That's not what I meant and you know it.”
He just shrugs and unlike when he first came in you can see pure happiness and love on his face.
“God, I love you so much, Evan Buckley.”
He grins and surges forward to kiss you passionately, his hands gripping your hips as if you'd slip through his fingers any moment.
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loversofthegrave · 2 months
Note
What are some of your fave wincest fics?
Oh I'm so glad you asked anon! I am always looking for fic recs so I'm sure some followers will appreciate this little one here;
(in no particular order)
try asking by applecrumbledore
“Jerry says he saw them going at it in the back of that car of theirs outside Atlanta last year, I swear to God.”
“Listen, man, I don’t like them either, but that’s a low blow. Jerry’s a fucking pervert.”
outside POV ftw
other brothers by homo_pink
A callow boy can go from infancy to someone’s lover in the space of two wildflower summers.
Another outside POV but this writer I kneel at the altar for, absolute perfection. Read all their work, you're in for a treat
Howls in my bones by weefaol
When John gets a call to investigate a series of grisly animal killings, he drops Sam and Dean at an abandoned cabin two towns over. The boys find ways to keep busy — playing cards, watching movies, chopping wood — but with a howling winter storm on the way, there’s nowhere for Sam to hide his illicit feelings for his older brother.
As the lure of desire threatens to devour him, Sam must learn to face the wolves that lurk outside and the monsters within.
weecest
In the garden where sin began by nyoka
Some places, they grow for you.
weecest, beautifully written, so tender
one on, two out by deadlybride
In the fall of 2001, Deacon gets a letter from his old friend John Winchester, asking if John's son can stay at his house for a while.
not exactly wincest but I want to recommend this because it's just a great insight into a young dean and his vulnerability and there's a sequel involving wincest elements. Really really loved this
it started out with a kiss by intrepidheart
Sam has a date. That's not the problem. The problem is that Sam's asking Dean to teach him how to kiss. The problem is that this kiss changes everything.
rightly obsessed with jealous dean
the repeated image of the lover destroyed by hathfrozen
"Do you really love me that much?" Sam asks.
Dean laughs, a harsh sound, his body shaking underneath Sam.
"Look at me," Dean hisses, eyes still shut. "What the fuck do you think?"
see things so much clearer by deadlybride
Sam's been acting oddly. Dean learns how to use the history on an internet browser and finds out why.
somewhere there's blue by linden
Dean was just gonna go ahead and call this one: evenings which ended with Sam in a river were not evenings which had gone too well.
nickle and dime by linden
It was unlikely, Dean felt, that they'd be coming back to Montana: Child Protection Services had a real nasty habit of not forgetting people's names.
here's a few for now, I have more but I need to remember the names! I will probably reblog this with them but I hope you enjoy! Also if anyone has any recs please point me in that direction
much love
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seeingivy · 9 months
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new year's day
actor eren x f!reader
**part of my method acting fic, masterlist here
content: reader mentions insecurity, connie and reiner teasing you, smooching, levi being a dad for ten minutes straight, sukuna cameo
an: I MISSED YOU POOKIES SO MUCH. SO SO MUCH. war (my 9-5) is over. this ended up at 9k, I hope it can compensate for the wait. ALSO VERY IMPORTANT WE'VE REACHED OUR FIRST TAYLOR SONG OF THE FIC. you can listen to new year's day from reputation before reading - it'll make the end part make more sense <3 (me furthering my turning people into swifties agenda, I saw her last night and my brain chemistry changed)
previous part linked here
--
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“Go outside and look at the moon.” 
“No. I’m really comfortable in my bed.” 
“Oh, come on Y/N. Just go outside.”
You grumble some nice profanities at Eren over the phone as you shuffle out of your sheets, pushing open your window to stick your head out. The breeze in the air is cold, the frigid atmosphere invading your already freezing room.
Erwin won’t justify turning on the heater. There are only four people in the townhouse right now - you, Levi, Hange, and Erwin (which is totally not your worst nightmare) - and apparently, that doesn’t justify heater use at all. Luckily enough, Eren and his very convincing angry face will arrive tomorrow to save you from your eternal winter. 
“S’cold, Jaeger.” 
“Yeah, yeah. Do you see the moon?” 
You crane your head up, twisting back in the window to look at it. A small crescent pressed against the sky, just slightly hidden beneath the clouds. 
“Yes, Eren. I see the moon.” 
“Okay. Now look to your right.” 
“Are we playing Simon Says?” 
“STOP SASSING ME AND JUST DO IT.” 
You’re thrown off by the irritation in his voice, and you turn over, peeking your head entirely out to look to the right. 
“Very exciting views, Eren. It’s literally pitch black.” 
You don’t see much, just the tandem bike you set out for tomorrow - when Eren would be here and not berating you through the phone - and the small patch of flowers that are by the front door. 
“I meant your other right, Y/N.” 
You shift your head to the left and see Eren standing there, his green hoodie pulled over his head and a cheeky smile pressed into his face. 
You drop your phone flat on the floor, running (falling) down the steps out into the cold air, your socks against the cold pavement as you run out to greet him. 
He’s already holding his arms open, which you run into, as you burrow your face into his shoulder, his warm arms squeezing around your frame and his laugh in your ears. 
“You were supposed to come tomorrow, Eren.” 
“And yet I’m here today, Y/N.” 
“Shut up. You know what I meant.” 
“Flight got moved up. And maybe I just wanted some time in the house where it’s just you and me - you know, without Mikasa interrupting us every two seconds.” 
You laugh as you and Eren sling your arms around each other’s shoulders, trudging out of the cold and into the kitchen. 
Before you can even mention it, Eren’s pulling out two bowls, and you’re grabbing the ramen packets, the two of you leaning against the counter as you watch the water boil. As excited as you are to see him and actually to be near him, there isn’t really much to talk about. 
You guys literally talk every single day. 
“How’s the song coming?” 
You groan, leaning into his shoulder as he laughs, his hand coming around your shoulder to rest in your hair. But it’s better. Because you can see him with your own eyes, hear him with your own ears, feel him with your own hands. 
“Bad. I’m never going to finish it.” 
“You’ll finish it. Plus, Armin’s coming soon, and he knows how to rhyme and stuff.” 
“That’s not the problem. I feel like the lyrics work when I can figure out the backing tracks and the music. But I keep getting tangled up because I can’t figure out the piano.” 
He reaches forward, opening the packets of noodles and dipping them into the water as you start chopping up the vegetables on the side. 
“I play piano, Y/N. I can help you if you want.” 
“No. That would just be more embarrassing. I get super frustrated when I’m writing. It would be infinitely worse if you were there watching me fail.” 
He rolls his eyes as he takes the knife from your hand, lightly pushing you to the side to watch the noodles. 
“You’re not going to fail. Let me help you. No one gets a hit on the first try, stupid.” 
“Don’t call me stupid, idiot.” 
“My bad, dumbass.” 
“Language, Eren,” Levi says from behind you two. 
You watch a smile spread across Eren’s face as he moves, running past the side of the counter to give Erwin, Hange, and a now-annoyed Levi a hug. Hange and Erwin are ruffling his hair, Hange cooing about how their little stars are back together again. 
Eren joins you again at your side as you're dishing out the food, Erwin pulling out a stack of papers as you and Eren start eating at the counter. 
“Business.” 
“Go ahead, Erwin.” Eren says, handing you the hot sauce before you can even reach for it. 
“So. Final scripts. As you’ll see, there aren't too many big scenes for you this season. It’s mostly focusing on this whole Utgard Castle arc, which you’re both not in.” Erwin explains. 
“Okay, that’s-” you say. 
“That doesn’t mean you both can slack off. There are more scenes for the rest of them because we need you two to nail the scenes you are in. Eren - this whole Colossal Titan reveal, you need to put everything you’ve got into it. If you think I’ve pushed you hard before, you’re in for a whole different playing field this season.” Levi says, glaring at Eren. 
You watch Eren roll his eyes, grumbling under his breath as he agrees and starts flipping through the script. 
“And you too, Y/N. This whole “Thank You” scene at the end - the majority of the dialogue falls on you. But you need to deliver in all ways. You better be acting with your eyes, your mind, your entire being. This is the type of scene you both could get nominated for as awards that’ll get you more roles. Take it seriously.” Levi continues. 
At the mention of awards, you and Eren both perk your ears up, flipping to the end of the script to the scenes tabbed at the ends with your name on it. You quickly run your eyes through the scene and the staging and feel your throat constrict at the staging lines right in the middle, bolded. 
Y/N leans forward, grabs Eren by the collar, and presses the softest kiss to his lips. It’s not overly passionate or sensational, but to the two of them, it’s a simple message. One they’ve known all along, maybe since they first met - in that cabin all those years ago.
I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it. 
You feel your eyes widen as you look up at Hange and Levi, the words spilling out of your mouth. 
“You want us to kiss?” 
“Huh?” 
At your words, Eren’s leaning over into your space, reading the line marked, and suddenly your cheeks are both burning pink. You both give each other a glance, which only makes it more awkward, as you shuffle as far away from each other as possible. 
“Yeah. It’ll fit the scene. It’s just one kiss, maybe two if we don’t get it on the first take.” Hange says nonchalantly as they start flipping through the rest of the highlighted script. 
As Erwin, Hange, and Levi start milling through their own conversations - discussing sets, costumes, that scene - you squeak out something that stops them in their tracks. 
“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” 
Hange’s eyes light up as they nearly jump to your side, taking your cheeks into their hands and teasing you. They flip you around so you’re facing Eren, which you’ve been avoiding this entire time, and start whispering into your ear. 
“Aw, isn’t he so sweet? It’ll be so nice to have your first kiss with your best friend, someone you trust.” 
“Uh, I-” 
“Cmon. Eren won’t bite now, will he?” 
Eren awkwardly pads to the other side of the room, shoving his face into his script, as Levi comes over and yanks Hange by the hair, muttering something about how they need to stop teasing you. 
“Another thing. While they’re filming the Utgard Castle scenes, you’re both not really in, you’re both going on a press junket. We’ll all be there as well.” 
“The rest of the cast too?” 
“No, just you two, Eren. They’re all going to finish filming so we can maximize time and all that. You’ll return on New Year’s Day to film that last scene.” 
“Can we come back earlier? Y/N’s birthday is on New Year’s Eve. She should be here to celebrate with everyone and not on a stuffy plane.” 
“Fine. You’ll come back that day. And then the scene is the day after.” 
Hange, Erwin, and Levi give the two of you a curt nod as they pad back upstairs, leaving you, Eren, and your two bowls of ramen in the kitchen. You and Eren take the bowls and place them on the table, eating silently. 
It’s still hanging in your mind. In a little less than a month, you’re going to be kissing Eren. 
“Y/N.” 
“Yeah, Eren?” 
“I haven’t kissed anyone either.” 
“Oh. Okay.” 
“I just mean, it doesn’t have to be awkward. We’ll just…figure it out together. And it’s you and me, so it won’t be weird.” 
You smile, watching the last of your noodles swirl around the bowl as his words seep into your head. Right. It is just you and Eren. You’re best friends. It’s just one kiss. Or maybe two. It’s not a big deal. 
“Yeah. You and me, Eren.” 
He smiles in response, the awkwardness lifting off of you as you both finish eating. 
The second Connie, Reiner, and Ymir make it back on set, their incessant teasing starts. They read the scripts. Kissy faces, smooching sounds, purposely pushing you and Eren into corners together just so they can tease you. 
“Eren. Are you excited to kiss, Y/N?” 
“Shut up, Connie.” 
“Is this your first kiss together? You must be sooo excited, Y/N.” 
“Okay, Reiner. Are you excited for your weird pervert lines about Historia?” 
The entire room laughs, Historia and Mikasa coming over to yank you out of the corner and sit at the table with them as you all catch up. Armin’s going around - taking pictures of everyone for our first day of filming with his Polaroid - as he starts labeling them all. 
There’s one of Reiner and Bertholdt - in their iconic fists to each other’s back poses - labeled “pervert and giraffe” by Connie. 
Another one of Sasha sleeping face first on the table from her jet lag while Connie and Jean are spraying whipped cream into her hair, labeled “connie springer, ultimate menace” 
And another one of you and Eren, fist-bumping each other, labeled “l/n-jaegers, season two” 
Connie films his first incriminating video ten minutes after that. It's Eren tucking your hair behind your ear. 
You yank your earphones out as you crunch the pebbles under your feet, rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes. When Armin walks up next to you, he’s immediately leaning his head on your shoulder, his eyes sleepily shut as you wait for everyone else to join. 
It’s five in the morning. And you really, really hate Hange for this. 
You’re all supposed to be filming a scene two hours away, in the snowcaps. It’s meant to be a flashback scene, primarily for Ymir and Historia, which is why you’re pissed that you had to wake up this early anyways. The light is barely peeking into the sky, the hues still a dark navy as everyone strolls out of the townhouse. 
Jean’s grumbling profanities, Mikasa’s dragging Connie out, and Sasha's the only one who’s really awake. Erwin slides open the bus door, and you trudge in, sliding into the first seat. 
You're leaning your head against the glass, ice cold, as you try to flutter your eyes closed again to rest a little bit on the drive over. You feel a shifting in the seat next to you and two hands on your head, moving you through space. 
You peek your eyes open to find Eren, placing your forehead against his shoulder instead of the glass. 
“Huh, what-” 
“Sorry, Y/N. Didn’t mean to wake you. Just figured it would be more comfortable this way.” he whispers, lightly pulling the hood of your jacket back over your head. 
You nestle more into his shoulder, letting the weight of your head fall entirely onto his shoulder as he readjusts under you, his arm splayed across your back. You feel his head resting on top of yours, your breaths in tandem as you both shut your eyes and drift off to a very unrestful and bumpy sleep. 
You wake up two hours later to the flash of a camera. And when you open your eyes, Armin and Connie are smirking at you, holding up the Polaroid of you and Eren sleeping in front of your face and then running out the bus. 
You frown as you rub your eye sockets with your knuckles, readjusting your hair and cracking out your neck. 
"Fuck Erwin for getting Armin that camera." 
“I really hope they’re not there when we have to kiss each other, Eren. They’re never going to let us hear the end of it.” 
“You and me both.” 
He holds his hand out, helping you up from the chair as you both pull on your jackets and join everyone else in the snow. 
“Sleep well?” 
You and Eren turn your heads to find Marco standing beside you, a shy smile on his face. You and Eren both reach forward, pulling your arms around him as you start talking at the same time, shocked at his presence. 
“Marco. What the fuck? What are you doing-” 
“You didn’t even tell us you were coming! That’s so messed up. You bitch.”  
He pulls back, a hand resting on both of your shoulders as he smiles, the look soft. 
“Sorry, guys. I wanted it to be a surprise. I’ll be here after you’re back from the press junket, too, Y/N. For your birthday.” 
You smile at him, giving him one more hug as he ruffles your hair, the two of you linking arms as you wait to film the scene at hand. After you film the aforementioned extremely short scene - which just makes you more aggravated at Levi and Hange because why the hell did you have to come out here for that - the lot of you head into the cabin, peeling off your snow coats and settling into the seats. 
Armin and Eren settle at the window, the two of them teaching each other card tricks while Bertholdt follows Sasha to rummage for snacks. Mikasa and Reiner run off to explore the upper level of the cabin as you and Marco sit flat against the wall, watching everyone walk around. 
“How are you, Y/N?” 
“Okay, Marco. How are you?” 
“I meant. Regarding everything we talked about last time and all that.” 
“Oh. Right.” 
The last time you saw Marco was when he came to visit you and stay with your family for a week. It was an impromptu trip after you mentioned to him that things weren’t going so great. Granted, he was only an hour away from filming a short film and had the time to spare, but it still meant the world. 
He places a hand on the top of your knee as you look over at Eren, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he starts talking. 
“You doing okay? Seriously?” he asks. 
“It feels better when I’m here. With you guys. Especially you, now that you’re here. I feel most normal here and wildly out of place when I’m home.” 
He sighs, squeezing your knee as you watch Eren place his card down, a victorious screech leaving his mouth as Armin rolls his eyes. 
“I can’t say I understand. We all went to the SHWA when we were so little, and I guess there was always some understanding that we’d be…in the spotlight. Scrutinized. No grocery stores or going to the beach, or any of that. Those things wouldn’t be normal. There was really no…normal to go back to.” 
You reach down, holding his hand, as you tilt your head back on the wall. 
“I don’t know. It’s weird. Sometimes it feels like I can’t even be normal without people picking apart everything I do. I knew this was something I wanted badly but never figured it would be like this.” 
“Yeah. I know the feeling.” he responds. 
Eren looks over from his spot on the windowsill, eyebrows scrunched together in frustration now as he mouths the words. 
You okay?
You nod, albeit halfheartedly, as Marco pulls you up, the two of you scooting into the kitchen. 
“Did you tell him about any of this?” 
“No.” “Don’t be silly, Y/N. The first thing they say at the SHWA is to rely on the people around you. The ones who understand.” 
“I do rely on the people around me. I’m talking to you right now.” 
He reaches forward to flick your forehead, the spot stinging.
“Ouch, asshole.” 
“I’m not a series regular anymore. And he’s the person you should tell. He’d want to know.” 
You roll your eyes at him as Sasha comes up, splitting half of her chocolate bar with you. Armin and Eren amble in a little while later, the lot of you all standing in the kitchen, watching Connie shove as many marshmallows as he can into Reiner’s mouth. 
Armin takes a picture. Labels it “chubby bunny gone wrong” when Reiner’s choking over the sink.
The press junket is insane. You and Eren are spending three days, all at the same convention, doing panels together. All while trying to memorize the lines for your kiss scene. Levi and Erwin said to meet as many people as the two of you could socialize as much as you can. Answer questions about the show for fans without letting Eren spoil the show. 
The first interview was a get-to-know-the-actors test. You and Eren are tasked with asking each other simple questions and talking about them. It should be easy. As the camera beeps red for recording, Eren turns to the side and starts. 
“My name is Eren Jaeger, and I’m one of the cast members of Attack on Titan.” 
“And I’m Y/N L/N, and I’m also from the cast of Attack on Titan. We’re going to be doing an interview today for you to get to know us better!” 
Eren leans forward, giving you a warm smile as you talk. He reaches forward, reading off the question on the first card. 
“Y/N. Did you take anything home from the set?” 
You turn to the side, making a fake warning face into the camera. 
“Levi, if you’re watching, stop.” 
Eren laughs as you turn back to him, trying to ignore the lights blaring in your eyes. 
“Um. I totally accidentally took one of the scarves home. But that was an accident. Did you take anything?” 
“I stole one of Armin’s polaroids from the wall. I keep it in my wallet. And I totally stole one of the ODM gear swords.” 
“Huh? What do you even do with that?” 
“Threaten my brother.” 
“Oh my god, Eren. Jesus. Which polaroid did you take?” 
“I have it, actually.” 
Eren smiles at you as he yanks his wallet out of his pocket, handing the shiny white Polaroid over. You smile as you remember the day, the picture being of you and Eren with your ramen bowls. Armin’s inscription says, “sosuke and ponyo.” You hold it up to the camera before handing it back to Eren, making a mental note to steal one of Armin’s Polaroids too. 
“Okay, Eren. Your question is…who is the first person you call when you get good news?” 
His cheeks turn pink as he pinches the bridge of his nose, rolling his eyes at the camera. 
“This is kind of cheesy.” 
“Huh, Eren?” 
“The person I call is you.” 
You smile, twiddling with the end of your braids as you respond. 
“My answer is you too.” 
He smiles back, the two of you getting through the rest of the questions and thanking the crew team in the filming room. As you and Eren swing out of the door, he pulls the tiny little sheet Levi had made for the two of you out of his pocket, looking where to go next. You’re leaning so close into his space to read the little sheet that you can smell his minty gum, the smell filling your nose. 
You’re going to the networking event. 
You and Eren slide into the hallway, a big expensive conference room filled with people milling around. Almost everyone is nursing a glass of red wine in their hands, all adults talking over and around you as you both awkwardly stand at the front. You instinctively reach down for Eren’s hand, the two of you locking fingers as you move forward. 
You both naturally lean against the wall, watching everyone walk around as you enter the room. All men. Well, almost all men. But from what you can tell, the only other women in the room are actresses - the producers, directors, screenwriters - they’re all men. 
“Does it feel weird to you here, Eren?” 
“Kind of. I can’t really place what it is, but it doesn’t really feel like we’re allowed to be here.” 
You’re both significantly younger than almost everyone in this room. And they’re all drinking. Talking about god knows what. You try to scan the room - looking for Erwin, Hange, or Levi but come out dry from your search. Eren must be sensing your unease because he’s leading you toward the doors, ready to yank the two of you out of the situation. 
But before he can, a man stops him, tapping him on the shoulder to talk to him. You both stop in your tracks, half turning around to look at him. He’s extremely tall, looming over the two of you, and you feel infinitely small in front of him. He looks at Eren, a self-assured smile pressed on his face as he introduces himself. 
“Scott Clarkson. I’m a producer for Stone Studios.” 
“I’m Eren Jaeger. This is-” 
“I know who you are, Eren. I was invited to see one of the first cuts of the latest movie you just filmed and-” 
Before you can even understand what’s happening, he has his hand on Eren’s shoulder, and they’re walking down the length of the hall, the end of their conversation lost to you. Eren looks back, and you give him a halfhearted smile as he tries to turn back before getting stuck in a larger group of people. 
You make your way back against the wall, sliding into one of the farthest chairs and swirling a cup of lemonade in your hands. You watch the pulp of the lemon dissolve into your cup as you aggressively swirl, the drops landing on the black of your skirt. 
It’s moments like this where you feel like you don’t belong. Marco’s words swirl through your mind, that this type of stuff is normal for them because they have no normal to return to, but you can’t help but feel other to them even if they are where you feel most comfortable.
Eren’s on the other side of the room, now stuck in a big group and laughing with producers and casting directors and talking about movies he’s filming and what he has lined up next. You’re on the other side of the room, sulking against the wall - you’d be shocked if they even knew who you were. 
You’re not jealous of him. If anything, it’s everything Eren deserves and more. He’s always been phenomenal. But that’s just the thing, he’s everything and you’re not even on the same playing field. 
Sometimes, it feels like Eren’s too good to be your friend. Your co-star. Someone you’re around. You can feel your knuckles turning white against the plastic of the cup, crushing against your hand. 
“You know, if you do that any harder, you’re going to spill it all over yourself. Then I’ll have to take my pants off so you don’t look like an idiot.”  
You look up to find Sukuna smiling at you, with Nobara and Maki rolling their eyes at him. You hop up, crushing Nobara and him in a hug and physically feeling the unease untangle in your chest. 
“Hi. I’m really glad you’re here I-” 
“This shit always sucks. I have no idea why we’re forced to come to these things.” Maki says, sliding into the seat on your left. Sukuna sits to your right, his arm resting across the back of your chair as the four of you whisper, well, more like the three of them explaining who all the producers in the room are, as you sit there. 
“Hey Sukuna.” 
“Hm, doll?” 
“That guy. The one talking to Eren. Who is he?” 
He squints his eyes as he cranes around the room, trying to find where you’re pointing at Eren. And when he does, you watch his eyes widen before he talks again. 
“Ah. That’s Clarkson. He’s kind of an asshat.” 
“What? Why?” 
“No, he’s just a dick. A really great producer makes super cool movies, but he’s…not the best. All that shit you hear about the industry running people dry, taking advantage of people. They’re talking about him. And his lot.” Nobara explains, glaring daggers at him. 
“Not his entire lot, Nobara. His daughter is fine.” Sukuna says, reaching over to you and Maki to flick her cheek. 
“She’s a bitch. You’re just saying that because you’re dating her.” Nobara responds, flicking him back. 
“Who's a bitch?” 
The four of you break apart, still leaning over each other, to find Eren, Levi, and a short girl with brown hair staring at you. 
“No one, Hyla.” Nobara says, grumbling as she and Maki stand up. Levi gets side-swiped into a conversation. He looks like he’d rather be five feet under than whatever he was talking about as the six of you stand up. You hold your hand out, introducing yourself to Hyla. 
“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” 
“Hyla Clarkson. Your dad was the one who acted in Interstellar, right?” 
“No. That’s Historia’s dad, but I get the confusion. We’re just from the same show.” 
You watch her eyebrows pinch up in confusion as she crosses her hands around her chest. 
“Oh! Was your mom the one in Moonrise Kingdom?” she asks. 
“Nope. I-” 
“So what film were they-” 
“My parents are dentists. They’re not really in the industry like that.” you ramble out, trying to spare yourself from any more embarrassment. 
She smiles, the expression not meeting her eyes, as she reaches down and links her hand with Sukunas. 
“That’s really sweet, actually. Humble beginnings and all that,” she says. 
“I think it’s pretty cool. Like yeah, we all land roles because our parents kind of help us get them in some way. But, Y/N worked her way to the lead of the show, sans famous parents. It’s a testament to true talent. ” Eren says, his voice firm.
“I agree. L/N has always been badass, especially on the screen.” Maki says, glaring at Hyla altogether. 
She rolls her eyes as she reaches into the pocket of her dress, taking out a shiny silver card and handing it to Eren. 
“Eren. This is my dad’s card. He wanted me to give you another one unless you lost it.” Hyla says, giving Eren a hug before she walks away. 
You both wait outside for Levi to join you, quietly standing against the wall. You watch Eren turn over the card in his hands before ripping it up, slashing right through Scott Clarkson’s shiny name in the middle. 
“That’s a bit harsh, Eren. He’s a really good producer from what I’ve heard,” you say. 
“Don’t care. We’ll get there on our own - we don’t need leg-ups from guys like that.” 
You smile as you lean your head on Eren’s shoulder, the anxious feeling still tingling in your chest. Levi makes his way out, giving you two a smile as you both get dragged to your next panel, individual interviews. 
You go first. The interviewer is a pale blonde girl with a stack of cards in her hand. 
“Y/N. Who's your favorite male co-star on set?” 
“Oh, um. That’s a hard question to ask, we’re all friends.” 
You can tell she’s not satisfied with your answer by her uptight posture, the irritation rolling out of her mouth. 
“Oh, don’t pick a cop-out answer. Who's your favorite male co-star? Is it Eren?” 
“Um, sure? He’s my best friend on set. But I like everyone.” 
She smiles, switching to her next card. 
“Fans have picked up on matching bracelets you and Eren have been wearing during this press tour. Can you comment on the story behind them?” 
“Oh, sure! It was last year, at the Savant Awards TV show awards. A pair of sweet fans gifted them to us.” 
She doesn’t comment any further on the story, switching to the next card as you swirl the bracelet around on your wrist, concealing Eren’s name on the beads against the inner part of your wrist. You have a feeling that what you just said will already get twisted into something it’s not, which in the worst way, distorts the entire thing for you together. 
“Okay, well, that’s all I have for you.” 
You give her a smile as you switch seats, taking Eren’s previous seat. Hange places a hand on your head, and you watch them share a look with Levi as Eren takes the seat.  
“You’re a phenomenal actor, Eren. What gets you in the zone on set?” 
“Thank you so much! I usually have to take a second before I start filming a scene just to get in the right headspace. Especially for scenes that I film with Y/N, I usually need her to be right there next to me just so I can…feel the scene before we film it.” 
The interviewer smiles, sliding to the next card as she asks Eren the questions. She couldn’t be this cheery and enthusiastic for you?
“Do you have any pre-filming rituals before you get on set and start filming?” she asks.
“I need to eat a bowl of ramen with Y/N before we start. It’s not like a good luck thing or anything, but we’ve just always started our day like that and now we just have to do it before we go on and film.” Eren responds, looking over to give you a smile. 
You give him a thumbs up as he keeps going, trying not to pay too much attention to the fact that all of Eren’s questions are about his upcoming roles, his acting techniques, his favorite parts of acting, and how yours were all about him. Granted, Eren somehow brings you up in almost every question he answers - even if it’s not explicitly related to you - which only makes the entire thing fester in your mind more. 
What are people going to say about it? This would just make what everyone says about you guys worse. 
Not that it’s bad, but they just…say things. Granted, everyone had been saying things since the start, but you’ve always chalked that up to the fact that you and Eren are closer than everyone else is. And you know how the two of you are, but everyone else seems to have their own opinions about it. And maybe you should try to stop it? But if that’s how you are, who are you to change and-
“You okay?” 
Eren’s taken the seat next to you, leaving Erwin to get interviewed next. You’re both slumped into the chairs at the back, Levi and Hange whispering in hushed voices in front of you. You can’t help but wonder if they felt this way when they were filming La La Land, but then again, they had no reason to deny anything that anyone said. They were actually together. 
“Yeah. Just want to go home.” 
He frowns as he brings a hand to the top of your head, leaning it to rest on his shoulder again. His cold fingers are in your scalp, pressing against the pulsating headache you’d been ignoring for the past hour, soothing the feeling. 
Should you guys really be sitting like this if there are cameras five feet away? And what if-
“Do you want to take a walk? We can go look for lemonade or something.” 
You nod as you both stand up, giving Hange and Levi a wave as you walk off. You’re slowly ambling behind Eren as he looks around for the drinks, the entire day replaying in your mind. 
You just want to go back to set. Have Mikasa tell you goodnight, eat breakfast with Sasha, play cards with Armin. None of this press junket, stupid interviewers, uncomfortable producers business. 
You feel a tugging on your arm, and you look back to find two girls looking at you. They can’t be much older than you, maybe eighteen or nineteen, with matching Attack on Titan shirts. With your face on it. 
“Hi. We’re Sarah and Sofia. We’re really, really big fans of the show. We were wondering if we could get a picture with you?” 
“Oh! Yeah, of course. I’d love to.” you respond. 
You take a few pictures with them before handing them their phones back. 
“Are you guys enjoying the panels?” 
“Yes! We’ve gone to every single one of yours, you’ve been doing really well.” 
You can feel your cheeks burning at their praise, reaching forward to hold both of their hands as you talk. 
“You guys are too kind. And I really, really love the shirts. Did you make them yourselves?” 
“Yeah! We also drove down two hours just to come watch, it’s been such a good weekend. We really, really admire you for what you’ve done. It seems like we hardly ever see “normal” people in the media. But every time we watch you do an interview, you always bring up our favorite songs and slang that we use, it just…makes it feel like there’s someone like us on the screen.” 
You squeeze their hands, the tears welling in your eyes as you fight them down while responding. 
“I promise, I’m a thousand times more like you than any of them, in more ways than you’d think. And…you could do it too. It’s like you said, we’re one and the same.” 
They’re smiling so brightly at you that it’s making your heart squish in your chest, the feeling all warm and gooey and self-soothing. Right. You can do it. Who gives a fuck if a stupid reporter or these people think you’re lame - the people who watch your show are the ones that matter. 
“We love you so much. You’re so, so sweet. You’re literally the nicest celebrity we’ve ever met. I’m sure you have to run soon - I can see Eren back there staring bullets at us - but we hope you have a really good birthday tomorrow, and we can’t wait to meet you again.” they say. 
You wrap your arms around both of them as they both run off, excitedly talking, as you see Eren coming up to join you. He has a cup of lemonade in his right hand, the left hand reaching forward to wipe away the one tear that escaped your eyes. 
“Sure you’re okay?” 
You look over at him, green eyes looking into yours, and reach down to take his hand. 
“Yeah. I’m okay.” 
“Let’s go home, yeah?” 
You nod, the two of you shuffling off to where you came from. 
When you get on the plane, your impending panic of the “Thank You” scene comes back. You’re both landing on set on New Year’s Day - which is your birthday, so you won’t be filming. Levi and Hange granted you the night off, and Eren says the two of you can go get slushies when you land. But then you’re filming the scene the next morning. You’re both still stuck on the plane for another seven hours running through the lines. 
“Listen, you’ve always been at my side...thank you.”
You drop the script onto the table and groan loudly, to which Eren laughs in response. 
“It-it’s falling flat. This scene is too serious, I-we’re going to have to do a million takes.”
“It’s fine- we’ll just practice a lot.” 
You switch seats so you’re right next to Eren, the two of you looking down at your scripts and switching. You read each other’s stage notes - you both have a habit of writing notes to help remember lines and blocking - which you’ve found helps reading each other's notes helps you stay in line. Like you’re in each other’s head. 
You read through his little scribbles - keep eye contact, start crying here, practice this. 
“Eren.” 
“Hm?” 
“When you say practice this, you mean…” 
He leans over, eyes going wide as he snatches his own script back, face burning. The arrow saying “practice this” was pointing to the line referring to the two of you kissing.
“Were you going to practice kissing in the mirror?”
“Shut up.” 
“I think a pillow would be more sanitary. Maybe you could find a video of it on the internet or-” 
“I was going to ask if you wanted to practice with me,” Eren responds angrily. 
You can feel your throat drying, eyes met with Eren’s burning stare. 
“Um.” 
“I just thought it-it would be worse if we did it wrong. And had to keep trying, and you know that everyone’s going to come to watch us and-” 
“I guess, but-”
“You don’t have to, Y/N. I was just thinking about it, and I was going to ask. Just so we don’t…have to do it for the first time in front of cameras.” he mumbles, turning his head away to look out the window. 
You sit there for a second and think about it. Eren does have a point. Having Ymir and Reiner stand there while you kiss Eren, or anyone, for the first time would be horribly embarrassing if they were actually standing there. And it would be weird to have your first kiss for the first time in front of someone, maybe it would be a better memory if it was more isolated and someone else. 
“Okay, Eren. That actually makes sense.”
He turns back, a shocked expression spreading across his face. 
“Really?” 
“Yeah, just…don’t be weird or something if it’s bad. I’ve like never really done this before, Eren and-”
“It’ll be fine. We can figure it out together. It’s just…kissing. Can’t be rocket science.” 
You nod, albeit apprehensively, as Levi and Hange join you and Eren in the seats across from you. 
“You guys doing okay?” Levi asks, pushing bottles of water toward the two of you. 
You both nod as you take in their expressions, the two of them more stern or serious than normal. Well, Hange being more stern - Levi has resting serious face. 
“We wanted to talk to you about something,” Hange says. 
“Okay. Is everything okay?” you ask. 
“The press junket. You both were exposed to many different things you really haven’t been to before and we just…want to give you our own advice before we let you go on and about in your careers.” Hange says.
“We care about you both, and there are just some things you should know. We don’t care what you do because you’re your own people, but we just want you to be warned about things you…might see.” Levi continues. 
You and Eren give each other a weary look, halfheartedly nodding at the two of them. 
“There are some producers in the industry that don’t have your best interest. I’m sure you guys have heard rumors before of what the industry is really like and what it can do to someone - we’re trusting you both to keep your heads when dealing with situations like that.” Hange says. 
“I don’t give a shit if it ruins your reputation. You don’t let them ruin you, control you, whatever. Your safety and what you’re comfortable with comes first.” Levi says. 
“Have you guys ever been....near stuff like that?” Eren asks
Levi and Hange give each other a weary look before nodding. 
“Yes. That’s why we’re telling you because no one ever told us. They’ll make you do things you don’t want to, make it feel like they control you, and take away the things important to you so they’ll know you’ll stay. Some of them are also very deep in some very, very illegal shit, so again. If you value where you are, you won’t interact with them.” Levi says. 
You both nod, reaching for each other's hands as Levi and Hange study you with their eyes.
“Eren. Y/N. Did you notice anything weird about the press junkets we did today? Or what the media says?” 
“Not really,” Eren responds. 
You look down at your hands, focusing on the way your knuckles look when they’re flexed, from clenching so hard, as they all wait for your response. But you guess your silence is enough of an answer because Hange takes that as their sign to start talking. 
“I had a feeling. What have you been thinking?” Hange asks. 
You can feel your voice getting tangled in your throat and the tears coming to fill your eyes when it comes time to explain, to tell the three of them something they might entirely reject. Or just not understand. 
“I just-the press junket was weird. It seemed like the interviewers were all asking me questions about Eren or Connie, or my other co-stars while they were asking Eren questions about his acting and what he does to get ready on set. It just feels like-that’s the only thing they care about when it comes to me. How I interact with other people.” 
Eren’s squeezing your hand - three times - as the tears are freely spilling out of your eyes. Right with the words because now that you’ve opened this can of worms, it seems like you won’t stop until they’re all out on the floor. 
“And. At the networking event, everyone wanted to talk to Eren and not to me. And it’s not that I’m jealous of him because I want Eren’s dreams to come true just as much as mine, but it…just feels like I’m less than. Like I’m stupid for even trying because my parents are just dentists in a small town, and the only acting I’ve done before this was in a very shitty small-scale production of Hamilton at my middle school.” 
Hange and Levi scoot into the seats at your sides, Hange’s arms around you on your left and Eren’s around you on your right. Hange and Eren are squeezing your hands, Levi’s hand softly running through the strands of your hair as you sniffle through all the tears. 
“I’m sorry, kid, but this part doesn’t go away. Especially because you’re a girl, something about that makes people think they have the right to the most heinous things about you. They’ll criticize anything and everything you do. You’ll learn to roll with the punches because, at the end of the day, you’re here to make art. Let that do the talking for you.” Hange says. 
“I know. I just have to ignore them. Plus, there are nice people out there who really care about the show and what I do so-” you respond.
“More than just care about it, Y/N. People love you. The ones around you and people out there.” Eren says. 
“Another thing. Eren, the type of scrutiny you’ll face is nothing compared to what she’s going to face, just on principle. It’s your job to not be the asshole who turns a blind eye to that and it’s your job to defend her if it calls for it. And if anything, it should infuriate you enough anyways that-” Levi mentions, looking over the tops of your heads to look at Eren. 
“It already does infuriate me. Who gives the people the right to say anything about her when she’s one of the best ones on the show?” Eren responds, the anger spilling out of his mouth.
Levi and Hange give your hands one last squeeze before walking away, muttering something about how you should just focus on enjoying your birthday tomorrow and the scenes, leaving you and Eren in the seats again. 
“What were we talking about before?” you ask. 
“Everyone is stupid. You know that, right?” 
You sigh, leaning against the chair so you’re looking up at the top of the airplane, the white lights shining on the two of you. 
“I know that logically. But sometimes, it just kind of sits in my head. Repeating, and I try to convince myself it’s not true, but-”
“I’ll convince you.” 
“What?” 
“Just tell me. I’ll convince you. You could have told me before too and whenever you want. I’ll drop whatever it is I’m doing for you if this is what you need me to do.” 
You nod, thinking of the best response. Because how do you tell him that he’s the best person you’ve ever met, and this only furthers the fact that he’s just too good for you. Because you’ve never had someone defend you or be so ready to come to your aid before that you don’t know what to do with it? 
“I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it, Y/N.” 
You laugh, rolling your eyes at him. 
“Are you quoting the stage directions from our kiss scene?” 
“Maybe. But it’s true. And also, that’s what we were talking about before. Practicing kissing.” 
“Maybe after we go to get slushies for my birthday later?” 
“Yeah.” 
You both smile as you dig your noses back into your scripts, waiting for the plane to reach back to set. 
You guys land on set the next day, around three pm. Eren and Levi woke you up on the plane with a little mini-cupcake and a candle to surprise you. Hange then smashed almost all of the frosting onto your face, which just earned them a good amount of scolding from both Eren and Hange. When you land, you and Eren head to the townhouse together, to change before getting slushies. 
“Why do you have your phone out, Eren?” 
“What? I always have my phone out.” 
“Not when you’re like…walking somewhere. And there isn’t even any wifi outside the townhouse, so I don’t even know what you’re doing on that.” 
“Can you just walk into the house, please? Do you have to question everything I do?” 
You pretend to scratch your temples, like you’re pondering his questions, as Eren rolls his eyes and lightly pushes your head, gesturing you into the house. And when you walk inside, they’re all waiting for you - the foyer of the townhouse decorated for your birthday and little party hats on all of their stupid little heads. 
They’re all singing Happy Birthday off cue - Reiner singing opera again, Connie screaming cha-cha-cha off cue, and Historia singing like she’s the next contestant of America’s Got Talent. Mikasa and Sasha bring over a cake with seventeen green candles, each of them giving you a tight hug as you blow out the candles. 
“Surprise!” Armin says, flashing the camera in your face. 
“This is so sweet, you guys. Thank you,” you say. 
“We have gifts. Come on, let’s open them.” Jean says, grabbing you by the hand and leading you to the center room. 
They each hand you their gifts, excitedly watching you rip off the wrapping paper. And you get why because it seems like everyone put so much thought into their gifts that it makes your heart squeeze. Mikasa gives you a nice, leatherbound notebook so you can stop writing song lyrics on napkins, and Armin compliments her gift by buying you a nice set of green guitar picks. 
You take the time to squeeze everyone in a hug and press a kiss to Ymir’s cheek, much to her dismay, because she writes you the sweetest little birthday note that makes you cry, and Reiner buys you a vinyl player to use for when you make your own record. And when you go all around the circle, you end up back at Eren, who is seemingly empty-handed. 
“Did you get me something? You don’t have to, I just-”
“Shut up. Of course, I had to. I just can’t really wrap my gift.” Eren responds, grabbing you by the hand and leading you to the closet near the front door. 
The rest of them all follow suit, watching you guys from a little distance. 
“Wow, Eren. I love it. I’ve always wanted my own closet.” 
“Shut up and open it.” 
You reach forward for the handle and swing it open, only to be met with your brothers - Colt and Falco - springing out of the closet and wrapping their arms around you. You’re squeezing the both of them so hard, so excited you’re crying because it’s literally been months on end since you’ve seen them, and you never dreamed they could even be here. 
“What are you doing here? Coco, you literally have class in like two days, and Colt so do you and-” 
“Eren flew us out for your birthday.  We’re leaving at the end of the day tomorrow.” 
You turn around, and you know you’re all teary-eyed and pink in the face, but you reach forward and squish Eren into the tightest hug known to man, eliciting cheering from the rest of them still watching you - that you entirely forgot about. 
“Eren. I love you so much. Thank you. I’ll pay you back for the plane tickets, but this really means the world to me, and I-” 
“You don’t have to pay me back. This was a gift for you, birthday girl,” he says, pinching the side of your cheek. 
Nine hours later and the whole new year in the flesh, you’re scribbling lyrics into the little book Mikasa bought you. The party they threw you - fully set with games, karaoke, and a pinata that Bertholdt procured out of thin air - turned out to be so tiring that they all passed out in the foyer, sleeping on top of each other on the couch and the floor. 
“Writing a song?” 
“Yeah. I think it’s done, actually, I just need to go play it now,” you say. 
“Want me to come? I can help with the piano.” Eren asks. 
“It’s three in the morning. Aren’t you tired? And I don’t even know where the key to set is where we can access the piano.” 
Eren reaches for the closest drawer, pulling out a shiny black key and dragging you out by the hand. You both pull on jackets and run out into the dark to the tandem bike, pushing towards set while shivering in the cold air. 
And when Eren opens the set door and turns on the lights, you immediately scream and duck behind him. 
“What the fuck is that?”
“Ymir’s prosthetic titan.”
“God. Do they need to leave it at the front door? That literally scared the shit out of me.” 
He laughs, locking his hand in yours as he drags you to the piano near the back of the set. You yank your hoodie off your head, placing the lyrics on the front of the piano. 
“Okay, so. Sing it. I’ll see what chords make the most sense after.” 
You nod, going through the first verse. 
There’s glitter on the floor after the party  Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby  Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before, but
Eren starts playing the piano around the chorus, a light piano tune filling the air. And he’s watching you so intently as you sing the lyrics, change words around with your messy handwriting, and he thinks at this moment, with your forehead all scrunched up in concentration and your sweet voice in the air that you might be his favorite person to be around. 
Don’t read the last page But I stay, when it’s hard, or it’s wrong, or we’re making mistakes I want your midnights But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day
And when you finish, he’s wrapping his arms around you, his voice so soft when he whispers in your ear that it makes the hair on your skin stand up. 
“You are…amazing. You know that?” 
“Eren. You’re so-” 
He cups your cheek in his hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth as he looks into your eyes, the look so warm, so sincere that it makes your chest tingle and your heart pound. Any denial of the fact will be met with pushback, so you drop it. 
“Thank you, Eren.” 
He smiles, dropping his hand to play the chords again and write them in the book. 
“Hey.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Is this song about me, Y/N?” 
“What?” 
“Well, the line. You squeeze my hand three times in the back of a taxi? Isn’t that kind of our thing? Squeezing hands three times.” 
You can feel your cheeks burning as you focus on the lyrics. And god, maybe the song is about Eren. You didn’t intend to write it that way, but he’s right. The candle wax, and the polaroids are mentioned in the song.
Those are all things you associate with him. 
“I guess so. I mean, I didn’t mean to really write it that way, but I guess that’s how it came out.” 
He smiles, a smirk on his face as he starts teasing you. 
“Am I your muse?” 
“Shut up. You’re so fucking stupid, Eren.” 
“You and me, forevermore huh?”
“Eren. Stop.”
“I’m teasing, Y/N. I like the sound of that. And the entire song, it’s really good. You should submit it to perform for the Savants.” 
“No. I could never do that.” 
He rolls his eyes as he shuts the book, swinging on the other side of the piano bench to lean against the now-closed piano. You’re both sitting silently, taking in the set when it’s so empty. Everyone’s ODM gear is labeled in the closet with their names, Eren’s prosthetic titan arms lying nearby, and Levi’s cleaning supplies. 
Eren clears his throat, breaking the silence. 
“We-um. Were supposed to get slushies yesterday.” 
“Oh. I’m sorry, I just got so distracted.” 
“Yeah. And.” 
“And?” 
“Weweresupposedtopracticethekiss.” he mumbles out, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. 
You feel your eyes widen as the recognition hits you. You’re supposed to kiss Eren tomorrow morning. 
“Oh, shit. That’s literally tomorrow.” 
“Yeah.” 
The silence hangs between the two of you as the pit in your stomach starts burning. 
“Do you want to practice now? Just so we’re good for tomorrow morning?” 
“Oh. Yeah, I guess.” 
You both awkwardly shuffle on the piano bench facing, splitting your legs between each side so you can both scoot closer to each other. And you can feel your heart beating really fast at being this close to him, all alone. 
He must sense it, because he puts his hand in yours, squeezing three times, before talking. 
“You okay? We don’t have to.”
“No. We should. I-I want to.” 
He nods, lifting his hands in the air as confusion spreads across his face. 
“You can put your hands wherever. It’s okay.” you say
“O-okay. Right, Y/N. Sorry I-” 
“Don’t worry. I’ve never done this before either.” 
He settles for cupping the side of your face with his right hand and leaving his left hand resting against the side of your waist. You place your hands against his hoodie, crumpling the fabric in your hands as you try to limit the sweat gathering on your palms. 
“Okay.” 
“Okay, Y/N. You ready?” 
“Yeah.” 
He leans forward and presses his lips to yours, the sensation so strange that you forget to move your lips and freeze up against your face. You both stay there for three seconds - but it feels like an eternity. And when he pulls away, you can feel the embarrassment rushing to your face when you realize what just happened. 
You just kissed him wrong. You forgot to kiss him back. 
“Oh my god, Eren. Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I was so thrown off by it, and I just made your first kiss wrong, and I-” 
“Y/N.” 
“Oh god. We’re going to fuck this up so badly tomorrow. I’m going to fuck this up so badly tomorrow. And we’re going to-” 
“Y/N.” 
“Ymir is never going to stop making fun of me. And then I’ll probably-” 
He drops his hands and reaches for your wrists, squeezing hard as he talks. 
“Y/N. Stop.” he says, his voice so soft, so earnest that it stops you in your tracks. 
“It’s okay. You didn’t mess anything up. I think you’re just…thinking about it too hard. This isn’t the kiss we’re doing for tomorrow or the show. This is just you and me, kissing here and now. So just…relax. It’s just us.”
You groan as you put your hands on your face, murmuring through your fingers. 
“How do you always say the right thing like that? It pisses me off.” 
He laughs, grabbing your wrists and placing them back on his shoulders where they were before. And when he secures his hand around your cheek and your waist again, his green eyes are shining in the set light and you think he might be your favorite person to be around. 
“Ready, Y/N?” 
“Ready.” 
And when he leans forward this time, you move your lips too, taking notice of how soft, how warm his lips feel against yours. How the sensation tingles all the way down to your stomach, makes your cheeks burn and your brain prickle. You instinctively lift your hands off his shoulders, feeling the softness of his hair between your fingertips and how his hand is only guiding your mouth closer to his like he’s pushing your lips together more than they already are. 
And when you both pull away, you’re both staring at each other - dilated eyes and swollen, pink lips. Your hands in his hair and his hands around your waist, breathless. 
When he cracks a smile, you can feel your entire resolve shattering. You make no effort to stop beaming at him the way you are, because you know you couldn’t even if you tried. 
“Hi Y/N.” he whispers.
“Hi Eren.” you whisper back. 
And you both laugh so hard that it makes your chest hurt. 
“Listen, Y/N.”
“Yeah?” 
“You know. We’re practicing. And doing it one time doesn’t mean it’s perfect, so-so we should try again. You know, for method acting purposes and-and.” 
You smirk, reaching forward to pinch his cheek.
“You want to kiss me so bad.” 
“Shut up. We don’t have to, I just want to make-” 
“We can.” 
He smiles, leaning forward to press his lips against yours again, his breath tickling the tip of your nose and his lips pressing against yours again, this kiss better than the last. You’ve committed it to memory - how his lips fit perfectly against yours, where his hands feel the best. 
For acting purposes, of course. 
You and Eren are ready bright and early to film the scene. Seconds before you start, Levi comes over and drops a key piece of information that leaves you and Eren pink in the face.
They’re cutting the kiss from the script.
--
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--
next part linked here
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pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3
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therealmrsgojo · 2 months
Text
Valentines special (Gojo Satoru x Reader)
Hi, everyone! Posting my personal favorite snippet on my fic I'd lie! you can click the link if you want to read the full version of it. summary: first time meeting itadori yuji, as gojo satoru's wife! warnings: canon-compliant, pregnant reader and drunk-in-love gojo.
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15th of August, 2018
You find yourself in the kitchen, humming softly to the music playing in the background. The aroma of the spices and herbs fills the air as you chop the vegetables for tonight's dinner.
A small smile adorns your lips as you hear the servants of your home offer to do the chopping instead. "No, thank you. I find myself enjoying these lately," you politely decline.
The servants bow to you in return, watching in admiration, their eyes fixed on the elegant and glowing woman in front of them, the head wife of the Gojo clan.
As you continue your tasks, your phone rings, breaking your concentration. You wipe your hands on the tablecloth and answer the phone.
"How's my pretty wife doing, hm?" Satoru's voice greets you from the other end of the line.
"I'm doing well," you reply, looking back at the pot and stirring its contents. "I'm cooking our favorite dish. It's almost done, honey."
"Shouldn't you be resting?" Satoru's voice inquires with concern. "You just got off from work. If you're going to do the cooking instead of letting the helpers do it, why don't you quit your job for now and just wait for me every day with your pretty little face?"
"That's not going to happen, Gojo Satoru," your tone was stern and resolute. You continued by confessing, "I hate doing nothing. Simple things like cooking make me happy." He could hear the passion in your voice as you spoke about your newfound love for cooking.
On the other end of the line, he sighed deeply, realizing he couldn't argue with you. He knew that you were a determined and independent person and that it was hard to change once you set your mind on something.
Imagining your pouty lips, pleading eyes, and even a soft, simple "please" from you would make his knees buckle in defeat. He, the strongest sorcerer, was no match for you.
"And also, I wanted to give you a heads up that Megumi will be joining us for dinner tonight," he said, pausing a moment before adding, "Oh, and a new student of mine, too, if that's alright with you."
"Of course it's okay," you replied with a smile, "I appreciate you telling me beforehand so I can prepare. Do you remember the last time you brought Maki, Panda, Yuuta, and Megumi all at once? I was caught off guard and unprepared."
"I remember. Especially how you didn't kiss me for a whole day afterward because you were so upset." Satoru laughed, adding, "We'll be there soon. Love you ~ "
As the call ended, you turned to one of the servants standing nearby, ready to assist you at a moment's notice.
"Hana, please prepare some guest rooms for tonight," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. "We might need them later for our visitors. Thank you." You patted her shoulder, seeing her nod, before she turned around to follow your orders.
After your engagement, the wedding came soon after, taking place a few months later. You and Satoru had decided to have a simple ceremony with only the most important people in your lives present. You wanted to honor the traditions of the Gojo clan that had fascinated you since you first met Satoru.
Following your honeymoon, you were named the new head wife of the Gojo clan. Satoru's parents had decided to move out, passing on the responsibility of running the family estate to you and your husband. This was a significant moment for you both, as it was a tradition that had been passed down through generations.
The other servants had kindly taken care of wrapping up your cooking and set the table for dinner. You stood in the kitchen, washing your hands; you couldn't help but feel satisfied with your small accomplishment.
Lost in thought, you suddenly felt a pair of soft hands tenderly caressing your stomach, a body pressing up against your back, and nose slowly breathing in the scent of your neck. The unexpected touch sends a shiver down your spine, but you quickly recognize the familiar touch of your husband.
As you turned around, you saw your husband's warm smile that lit up his face. He quickly bent down to one knee and nuzzled his face into your stomach, murmuring, "I missed the both of you." You laughed at his affectionate gesture as you lovingly caressed his hair in response.
"I'm not sure they can hear you yet, love," you conveyed with a gentle smile. "I'm just barely two months pregnant, 'Toru."
Your husband looked up at you with a pout on his face, making you giggle like a teenager. He then stood up, took your face in his hands, and pressed soft kisses to your forehead, nose, and lips. The warmth of his embrace and his scent enveloped you completely.
He then turned to you and said, "Hi, my wife," looking at your face with a loving gaze, as if he was seeing you for the hundredth time but still couldn't get enough of you.
You both heard voices from the dining room, and your husband took your hand, pulling you and leading you toward the two students you had been expecting.
As you entered the room, a pink-haired boy with a curious look on his face muttered, "Wow, it's so big here, Fushiguro," his eyes scanned the delicate features around the room in amazement.
"(Y/N)-san," Megumi noticed you first and walked towards you with a small smile. You embraced him, feeling happy to see him doing well, patting his back and giving him a quick peck on the cheek before letting go. "How are you, Megumi?" you asked him.
"I'm doing well, thank you, for all that food you sent to the dorms, too," he replied, his cheeks turning slightly red at your affection.
As you stood there, your husband caressed your hair and introduced you to the other student. "Yuji, this is my wife (Y/N)," he said, turning towards the boy staring at you in awe, his mouth slightly apart.
"Itadori Yuji, nice to meet you," he said, bowing profoundly and complimenting you on your beauty that made you and your husband laugh.
"Nice to meet you too, Yuji. Let's go eat now, shall we?" you said softly, patting his shoulders as you led him to one of the dinner chairs.
The dinner was filled with laughter and stories as you all caught up with each other. You felt happy to see Megumi and Yuji bonding so well, as they were a perfect mix. You also learned about Nobara, another student you wanted to meet soon. As supper ended, every one commended your cooking, and you suggested that the two students stay for the night, offering rooms that were ready for them. They agreed happily.
As you both retired to your quarters, your husband's face was pressed up against your stomach, his hands caressing your hips as he mumbled sweet nothings to your unborn child.
You ran your fingers through his hair, smiling at the sight of the strongest sorcerer alive baby-talking to your pregnant stomach.
"I love you, (Y/N)," Your night was spent tenderly, with sweet words lingering in the air between you and your husband.
The moonlight bore witness as you made love with each other, lost in your own world of passion and intimacy.
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Note: Aaaand that's it! Happy hearts day everyone! Thank you for reading this.
"Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."
xoxo,
Aurora.
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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months
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—  CLOSER THAN THIS
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SUMMARY :  part IV of gimme half. something quick. something hot. in between busy tasks. when everyone else has not arrived.
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : none
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, p in v, clothed sex, against the wall
WORD COUNT : 2.2k
A/N : jimin song title. this fills the quickie square of my @jacklesversebingo card. I don’t even know what I’m doing 😋 but these can be read as standalone fics 😌 XXX
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Dean made cute faces all the time. 
It was hard to resist smiling when she was around him. His jokes made her laugh, his faces made her laugh, even his laugh made her laugh, and the way he playfully sang along to the music from his playlist, the faces he pulled in concentration or as he tasted what he cooked made her smile. 
He was the embodiment for endearment. Those adorable dimples of his only made him more charming. She swooned an embarrassing amount of times in all those moments. 
She was delighted when he called her some time after noon and asked her to come over if she wasn’t busy to help him out with dinner. He spent most of the afternoon cooking and baking for his friends. It was one of the best times she’d spent with him, getting to know him like this, seeing in person as he serves others rather than peeking through the windows of her house to get to know him. 
It sounds creepier than it actually was, at least she thought so. She was a nosy neighbour. Oh, God, that’s horrible. To be fair, she was only nosy when it came to Dean—they were enemies. Were.
That phase was over. 
Sometimes she woke up in his bed, other times he woke up in hers. And then they’d make each other breakfast. And now they went on dates. And now they babysat his nephew when Sam and Eileen went out on dates—that brought up a lot of thoughts she didn’t have before. Kids. 
Seeing Dean like that with his nephew… Using a cute voice and singing him to sleep, messy feeding and messier baths, bedtime stories and playing pretend, soothing him when he cried and teaching him new things. 
She wondered if Dean felt the same, if the thoughts of fatherhood haunted him the way they haunted her when he fell asleep in her bed. Or when she woke up with the sun, to Dean’s sleeping face. Or when they were alone at home, cooking, watching movies, sharing stories, drinking… when they went on rides with no destination in mind, on picnics, or even just grocery shopping. Sometimes he’d keep her company as she worked on hobbies and she’d do the same for him, watching him fix anything broken, or tune up his car. 
She was too afraid to bring up that conversation. They were retired hunters. It’s part of why she refused to admit that she did want children. It’s like the choice was robbed from her and it hurt for so long, but it got easier to accept when she focused on hunting or her job as a professor. 
Besides, she had her cat. Close enough. 
When she went over to his place, she focused on helping Dean with chopping up whatever vegetables he needed to use, she washed them for him before using them, she brought the spices and herbs he needed, or the condiments that could be used, and cleaned up the dirty dishes after he was done using them. 
Now that they were finished, they sat at the table waiting for everything to finish simmering while talking about things to do after. Watching a movie was the obvious answer, which one to watch was the harder part. 
She believed it was Jody, Donna, Claire, Kaia, Alex, and Patience that were coming over. She met them at Sam’s wedding, barely. The only one who could truly answer that question was Dean, but now he was pouty because he wasn’t sure what they’d want to watch, but maybe he could ask them when they came. 
He picked up some of the excess shredded carrots for the carrot cake he made for those who didn’t want pie, and dropped them into his mouth. He chewed, the carrots barely touched his taste buds, and he grimaced, but swallowed it anyway.
“Tastes better in the cake,” he grunted, getting up for a beer. She giggled and shook her head at him. “Want one?” He asked from the fridge, getting his open, but she shook her head, so he sat back down with her. 
“So… you’re just good at everything?” She asked, scooting closer when he put his hand on her thigh and squeezed. He chuckled, his cheeks reddening. He ahh-ed after taking a sip of the cool beer and thought for a while. 
“I’m not good at… designing clothes?” He offered bashfully, pushing the beer far away from him. She stared at it subtly then glanced up at him curiously. 
“No, not like that,” she smiled softly, “you fixed my electrical outlet…” she reminded him, leaning forward to tap his plump lip. His mouth dropped open slightly and he exhaled, rolling his eyes shyly. She dropped her hand onto the table and thoughtlessly traced patterns on the surface, watching him get embarrassed. 
“It was… nothing,” he sniffled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He leaned back in the chair and took the bottle of beer from the table again, playing with it to avoid her gaze. 
“You’re very… John Wick,” she sighed, stretching her arms upward. He hummed softly, leaning back forward with his arms on the table, staring at her with interest. “It’s hot,” she whispered quietly, her eyes holding affection and longing. 
“Yeah?” He murmured, staring at her like she was all that was there. It made her turn pink self-consciously, but she continued to gaze into his eyes. She saw his hand move and then it was over hers, warm and comforting. 
“Mmm, yes,” she replied quietly. 
Being around Dean was like being surrounded by a gas leak, and one kiss, one touch, one right word, acted like the spark that ignited everything. The fire robbed her of breath and stripped her skin away so she was bare and vulnerable to him. 
Dean leaned forward, practically lunging to meet her lips, but the timer he set earlier went off loudly at the centre of the table, and made them jump away. They both laughed awkwardly, she extended her hand to turn it off while Dean turned the stove off. 
“Wanna taste?” He asked, hummed softly as he took a tiny sip from the metal mixing spoon, and waited for her when she nodded. She stood before him, waiting and watching him blow air against the hot lentil soup in the spoon to cool it down. 
She bit her lip and smiled, then he cupped his hand two inches beneath the spoon so it wouldn’t drip onto the floor. She opened her mouth and took the delicious, warm soup into her mouth, savouring it with a pleased hum, her eyes full of surprise and satisfaction. Dean pulled back a little too early, causing some soup to dribble down from the corner of her lip due to the awkward position they were in. 
“Oh, my god,” she moaned, too distracted by the flavour. She only looked at Dean while he set the spoon down on the counter, indifferent about the puddle it created beneath. He grabbed her chin and dipped down to kiss the small trail of soup away, his warm tongue gently swiping up and down. Her breath hitched and her face burned hotter with embarrassment. 
The embarrassment didn’t last and was replaced by a flush of arousal across every inch of her skin. Dean seared her lips with a hard, demanding kiss that made her breathless and numbed her mind of any thoughts. 
He gently manoeuvred her across the kitchen, breaking apart from the kiss to breathe before returning to each other’s lips. She made quick work of the white apron around his waist, gasping at the unexpected bump of her back against the wall. 
Dean took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth and trailed his hands slowly down her sides, his palms pressing against her curves firmly. He only removed his hands from the short baby-blue dress when she shoved the thick green flannel off his shoulders, watching him throw it over onto the nearest counter in the kitchen. 
Dean grabbed her hips to guide her into the hallway, digging his fingers into the tight dress to create dips into her flesh. She smoothed her hands down his chest and hooked her fingers over his leather belt, tugging him to her so she was pressed into the wall once more. 
Dean was short of breath, his cheeks and ears becoming scarlet red when she started to undo his belt, staring into his eyes daringly. He slid his hands down her thighs, and sneaked them up under the mini-dress. The soft cotton rode up with his hands, his fingers hooking against the sides of satin, beige panties, swiftly pulling down so they dropped down around her ankles. 
“Fuck, it’s like your horny all the time,” she whispered with a breathy laugh, wasting no time in tugging his jeans and boxers down. Her hand instantly circled around the base of his erect cock to squeeze tantalisingly.
“It’s not me being horny all the time, it’s that you’re always so fucking sexy, I can’t resist,” Dean quipped, dropping down to kiss her pushed up breast over the square neck of her dress. 
Dean bent his knees, and stretched his hands down to press his fingers against the back of her thighs, urging her silently to jump so he could lift her up. When she did, she freed his dick, and placed her arms over his shoulders, and her legs around his waist, kissing him once more. Dean ground his hips against her, his hard cock rubbing against her leaking pussy. 
“Please,” she whined, squirming when his cock brushed over her clit repeatedly. “They’re gonna be here in less than thirty minutes, Dean,” she reminded him. He chuckled huskily, but unhurriedly guided his cock to her needy, wet cunt, and pushed in at a tormenting pace.
He could feel her gushing around him, hot and wet. Dean moaned, reaching behind her arched back for the zipper of her dress, lowering it down halfway. He bounced her on his cock once with a smirk on his face, and lowered the straps of her dress off her shoulders, slid his fingers across the neck of it to tug downwards until her breasts spilled out from the tight material. 
Dean instantly began to fuck her into the wall, his thrusts harsh and desperate, wasting no time in building up her orgasm. His fingers scraped up her thighs to tighten around her hips, blunt nails digging into her delicate skin. 
Had the flowery drywall been cheap or damaged, she thought he’d break it down with the force of his thrust. He pounded into her, groaning out with pleasure into her ear before kissing and biting her throat, lovingly licking the red marks he left behind. 
Her clit throbbed with each slap of his pelvic bone against her, her cunt felt hot and full stuffed with his cock, and her muscles were somehow tense and mushy all at once. Lust overcome her will, drawing loud noises of pleasure from her lip, mewls and whimpers of his name that made him fuck her faster and harder.
“Say my name, baby… I love when you say it,” Dean panted against her lips, feeling her pussy clenched tightly around his throbbing cock. With a whine she brought him closer with both her legs and arms, the knot in her belly becoming tighter and tighter.
She could barely speak as every rough thrust stole the oxygen from her lungs. She managed a gasp of his name, brought her hands down between their connected bodies to ghost her fingers beneath his shirt. Her hands slipped upwards and curled around to his back, her manicured nails digging into muscular shoulders, causing him to moan. 
Every thrust drove Dean’s cock into the deepest depths of her vagina, brushing against sweet spots she forgot she had residing against the velvety, ridged walls of her pussy. She clenched around his pulsing cock, her nails scratching down the skin of his back, the knot becoming impossibly tight before she finally let go. Pleasure ran through her like electricity through a circuit, blinding her to the point of seeing an entire galaxy behind tightly shut eyes.
She screamed his name, the way he swore he’d make her scream the first night they were together. He slowed the thrust of his hips as he climaxed almost immediately after she reached hers, his cum spilling into her. Then he started up again, fucking her through her orgasm, until he softened inside her, his cum dripping around them. 
“I think that’s the fastest I’ve made you cum,” he laughed, his voice gravelly. She laughed with him, grateful for the slowness in the way he pulled himself from her, and lowered her weak legs to the wooden floors. 
“I need to pee,” she whispered, leaning against the wall with a smile while he fixed her dress, kissing and licking her nipples until they were tight before covering her back up, and zipping up the dress. 
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll get your underwear and meet you there,” he smiled softly and kissed her forehead lovingly before she left, pulling his jeans and boxers back up as he observed her very sexy behind.
She turned around with a knowing grin on her flushed face, sending a wink in his direction before she made a turn towards where the bathroom was. 
“I’m fucking you slower tonight!” He shouted after her. 
“Still rough, yeah!?” She called out teasingly, her voice echoing louder now that she was in the bathroom.
➥ my you
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184 notes · View notes
flowerxbunnie · 5 months
Note
OK BESTIE LISTEN
i heard “roses are red, watches are gold. get on your knees and do as you’re told.” I NEED IT IN A MATT FIC PLEASEEEEEE
okok so maybe matt really reallyyyy wants to spend money on a pretty girl. you sign up on a sugar baby website for that coin, and y’all start talkingggg. he flies you out and books a hotel 👀 there’s a red dress and like a gold and diamond watch on the bed and rose petals and wine, w that on a note. and he gives you a time and place to meet him for dinner and is giving you the eyes alllll night. and yk the resttttt
Sugar Daddy
Matt x Fem Reader
Warnings: Smut, sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, fluffy ending
@lustfulslxt
DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT LIKE SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!
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“Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you and spy from another table? I’m terrified you’re gonna get your head chopped off with an axe,” Jaycee says while lint rolling my dress.
“Girl I promise I’ll be fine. Most of the time these guys can’t even walk without a cane, let alone chase me down with an axe,” I laugh, checking myself in the mirror again. “Plus I’ll have my location on. One bad vibe and I promise I’ll let you know.”
I smile and hug my best friend, pulling away and spinning around to show her the back of the dress.
“How do I look? Think I’ll get a big payout tonight?” I say while raising an eyebrow in a jokingly seductive way.
“Honey I KNOW his wallet is gonna be screaming and crying at him after you’re done with him. Do you have to… you know…?” She does a ring shape with one hand and pokes her finger in and out.
“Fuck him?” I laugh, swatting her hands down. “It just depends. A lot of these guys just want a pretty girl to keep them company. Like some of them I literally just eat dinner with and that’s it. But if they want little something extra and I’m feeling up for it, why not?”
“What does he look like?” she questions.
I shrug before quickly trying to explain it the easiest way I can after I see the worried look on her face.
“So first of all, this sugar daddy app is referral only, so it’s definitely safe. He has to have been referred by another sugar baby, passed a background check, proven he can pay out, submitted a photo of himself to the owner of the app, all that jazz. But it’s kinda like a blind date.. on my end? Like he knows what I look like but not my name.. but I’ve never seen him… I know the first letter of his name… Anyway I don’t know why exactly it’s a thing, but it was created by former sugar babies and I think it’ll be cool to give it a shot!” I spew all this information at her as she stares at me just blinking.
“Oh…okayyy…” she trails off before adding “Please please be safe, Y/n. You know I’m just a phone call away!” She kisses my cheek and walks back to her room.
I pull out my phone and open my messages with M.
-Onyx hotel at 6pm. Reservation will be under the name Adam Smith. They’ll get you in no problem.
Adam Smith causes me to raise an eyebrow, but I order an Uber and sit around for for a while before looking in my full length mirror again, smoothing out my black dress and fluffing my hair. I spray a vanilla scented perfume onto the pulse points of my neck and grab my bag. I dig through it and make sure I still have my pepper spray and stun gun. I know I’ll be fine, the app is super well rated and trustworthy, but you never know what some of these dudes will try.
•••
The Uber pulls up to the door of a massive hotel. I’m no architect but it looks like the doorway is carved from marble. I step out of my Uber and thank my driver before making my way into the doors of the Onyx, a door greeter offering to show me to the desk.
“Hi, I have a room booked under the name Adam Smith.” I smile as the lady behind the desk types into her computer to pull up the file.
“Got it right here sweetie.” She reaches under the desk to get the room key and slides it across the counter to me. “All the way to the top floor, make a right and it’s the door at the end of the hall. Have fun with Mr. Smith,” she adds in at the end, and I swear I can see a smirk on her face.
I make my way to the elevator, now flustered, and press the button for the top floor, my heart beginning to beat a little harder as I realize I’ll be meeting M face to face in a few short moments. Before I can think too hard, the elevator doors slide open. I step out and make my way to the end of the hall, my heels clicking with each step and echoing off the walls. I pull out the room key and take a deep breath before sliding the card into the reader and watching it blink green.
“Don’t fuck this up, Y/n. You need this money.” I think to myself.
I push the door open and I’m met with the scent of champagne and sweet roses. It smells like luxury.
“Hello, M?” I ask, shutting and locking the door behind me.
I’m met with a still silence. I put my bag down by the door and survey the room. It’s massive, marble floors with intricate wallpaper donning the walls. There’s even an office area with a desk, notepads and various office supplies. I notice an open pen on the desk, but I’m honestly too scared to touch anything. It all looks fucking expensive. My phone vibrates in my hand and I see a message from M pop up on my lock screen.
-You make it in okay?
-Yes, where are you?
-Check the bed.
I make my way over to the queen size bed and gasp. I see a red satin dress laid out surrounded by rose petals. It’s gorgeous, way better than the dress I picked for myself tonight. There’s a note beside it, and when I pick it up I find a black velvet box that was strategically hidden underneath the paper. I unfold the note and read the smooth handwriting,
“Roses are red, watches are gold.
Get on your knees and do as you’re told.”
I immediately break out in a blush, smiling to myself just from seeing M’s words on the page. Guess I know what I’ll be getting myself into later. I read further down the note and I see something else scribbled out.
“I’ll be waiting, my lady in red.”
I pick up the black velvet box and open it, shocked once I’m met with a shining gold watch encrusted with diamonds around the face. I pick it up gently out of its cushioning and flip it over, an “M” carved into the gold underside of the watch. Fuck, that’s honestly hot. Marking me already? I slip it onto my wrist gently and fasten the clasp, the cold watch against my wrist giving me shivers but it fits perfectly.
I slip off my black dress and shimmy into the red one, smiling as it zips up and clings onto me like a glove. I feel like pure luxury right now, checking myself out in the mirror before I see my phone light up on the bed.
-Uber is outside. See you soon.
I swear this man is already driving me crazy. He ordered the nicest Uber I’ve ever been in and made sure I had a glass of champagne ready to be poured to sip on during the ride. We pull up to a restaurant I’ve never even heard of and my driver gets out to open my door for me. “Watch your step, sweetheart.”
I walk to the reservations counter and give them the same name I was told to give to the hotel, and I’m led to a table in the back of the restaurant. My heart is beating out of my chest at this point. This is the first blind date I’ve been on at all, let alone with a potential sugar daddy. What if he’s hideous or weird or creepy?
I’m pretty sure my eyes fell out and rolled onto the floor when I saw M. He’s a young, hot brunette with striking blue eyes that feel like they’re burning holes into my skin.
“Your waiter will be over shortly,” the hostess smiles and walks back the other way.
M stands up to pull my seat out for me, but not before grabbing my hand and placing a soft kiss onto the backside, making my heart skip a beat before I sit down and he pushes me closer to the table.
“Not what you were expecting, I’m guessing?” He questions, his eyes locked onto mine with a smug smile.
“No not at all. I mean, I’m not mad about it I just-” I take a shaky breath, trying to calm my nerves before speaking again. “Usually the men I meet are shriveled up and on their last leg. You seem so young to be doing this kind of thing.”
He laughs and nods. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“A lot? So you’ve been doing this for a while, then?” I question, grabbing the glass of water that was waiting on me and take a sip, my berry red lipstick leaving a mark on the rim.
“Not too long. Maybe six months?” He looks up in thought. “Yeah like six or seven.”
“What’s your real name, Mr. M?” I ask in a lower voice, playing up the mystery vibe.
“I’m Matthew… or just Matt. And yours, pretty lady?”
“Y/n. Pleasure to be getting to know you better, Matthew.”
•••
We drink and eat and talk for what feels like hours, getting to know the ins and outs of both of our experiences in the sugar daddy world. I learn that Matthew is an influencer who makes crazy money and doesn’t know what to spend it on. He explained to me that he’s always had a love for gift giving, and when the money started rolling in and he realized he could get any girl he wanted, it combined and spiraled into almost a fetish to spend money on beautiful women.
I surprisingly understand where he’s coming from and we talked about that for a good chunk of the night. I felt like I was kinda playing therapist in a way, helping him see the reasons for why he does these “taboo” things from a nonjudgmental perspective.
After we finish dinner and drinks he orders another Uber and walks me out, opening the door for me and placing his hand on the small of my back to guide me down to my seat. I scoot to the seat behind the driver and watch as Matt ducks down to take his seat and shuts the black car door. I click my seatbelt and look up to see him scooting closer to me and settling in the middle seat, flashing a smirk my way.
The ride back to the Onyx is filled with glasses of champagne and shared giggles while we listen to the Uber driver tell us the story of his life that we definitely didn’t ask for. Matt’s hand nonchalantly lands on my thigh at some point during a giggle fit and I swear I freeze, not out of fear but anticipation. His fingers trail to the inner part of my thigh while his thumb rests on top tracing back and forth, sending butterflies through my entire body. He just looks over at me and smiles before turning back to the driver and egging him on, asking stupid questions like, “So then what did you do once they threw your shit on the street??”
It’s all a blur, his hand wondering aimlessly up and down my thigh with no intention to venture under my dress just yet. His smooth skin catching and reflecting the lights of the city as we journey through traffic. I feel like I can’t really concentrate on the conversation and I barely speak. This man is gorgeous inside and out- it’s like I’ve known him for years. It’s weird and it’s making me so flustered, but thankfully we come to a stop outside the Onyx and I can release the breath I’ve been holding in.
Matt steps out and walks to the driver’s window, handing him an envelope and shaking his hand before stepping towards my door and holding his hand out for me. I grab onto it and I feel a weird feeling shoot across my body just from the simple feeling of his skin on mine. He doesn’t let go as we make our way though the doors and into the lobby. He shoots the lady at the front desk a wave and a smile before we turn the corner towards the elevators.
The ride to the top floor feels like it takes triple the amount time as it did when I did it alone. Matt moves to stand across from me with his back leaned against the wall, stealing glances occasionally. There’s a silence between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s filled with a tension so thick I can almost physically feel it. We exit as we reach our floor and he lets me lead the way.
“That dress fits you so perfectly, sweetheart,” he whispers as he trails behind me.
I can feel his eyes burning into my back as I chuckle and try to keep the blush from spreading across my cheeks. We reach the door to the room and I stop to dig through my purse for the key, but before I finish Matt reaches around me, his chest touching my back, and swipes his own key. His veiny hand turns the handle and pushes it open before we step inside. I sit my bag down on the desk and reach down to take off my heels before I’m interrupted by his deep voice.
“Let me take them off. Sit on the bed.”
“Oh, yes sir,” I say in a teasing voice, raising my eyebrows and walking over to the bed before settling on the edge.
He moves to stand in front of me and grabs my right ankle gently, running his hand up to my knee before placing my heel onto his belt. I watch as his fingers delicately trace the strap around my ankle and find the clasp, undoing it before slipping my heel off and tossing it to the side. He repeats the same actions on my left leg, but once this heel is removed he drops to his knees and props my leg onto his shoulder causing me to fall onto my back and gasp.
He reaches down to grab my other leg and props it onto his other shoulder. His eyes snap up to meet mine, a look of lust written all over his face. I can feel myself starting to throb, a puddle forming between my thighs as he tilts his head towards my inner thigh and brushes his stubble along the tender skin.
I usually don’t get this into the sex with the other men I meet. They’re almost all over the age of 50 with some kind of ailment and it’s just not my vibe. I need the money so I do it, and I won’t lie, I’ve ended up being shocked and enjoying it a couple of times. But Matt has barely even touched me and my body is craving him desperately.
He spreads my legs as his lips cover my thighs in wet kisses, trailing achingly close to my core as he pushes my dress up around my hips.
He looks down at my panties as if he’s an artist admiring his work, running his thumb along the fabric and feeling the arousal that had made itself visible. He meets my gaze and increases his pressure, tilting his head in awe as if he’s poking an animal in a cage. Soft whimpers start involuntarily leaving my lips, my hips rocking against him.
“Fuck, look at you already squirming for me.” He licks his lips and leans forward, flattening his tongue across the fabric causing me to moan and grip the sheets from the pressure and warmth.
He watches as I react and blinks slowly before licking a stripe from the bottom to the top, biting at the hem and letting go roughly. The elastic stings my skin but he quickly places kisses along my skin to soothe it.
“F-fuck, Matthew.” I can’t help but roll my eyes back, going insane from all the teasing.
He uses his index finger to pull my panties to the side, letting out a deep groan when his eyes meet my dripping pussy. He wastes no time before burying his head between my legs, his tongue dancing up and down my core.
“Tastes so fucking good,” he almost whines as he comes up for a breath.
He continues lapping me up and I’m a mess underneath him, cursing, arching my back off the bed, gripping at the sheets, pulling his hair. Anything to release the tension building up in my body.
He pulls back, bringing his hand down and teasing my entrance with his middle finger before easing it in. I moan out as he curls up into my g spot, which prompts him to repeat the motion repeatedly. He brings his head back down to suck on my clit, making unbreaking eye contact.
A knot is twisting in my stomach at the sight of his blue eyes staring into mine, him working relentlessly to bring me to my peak. My legs begin to tighten around his head but he doesn’t fight it. He picks his pace up and begins humming deliciously into my pussy.
“Let me see that pretty face while you’re cumming on mine.” he says breathlessly dipping back down to flick his tongue across my clit.
I prop myself up onto my elbows and stare down at him, and his eyes look like they’re almost begging for me to release.
“M-Matt I’m gonna… fuck I’m gonna cum,” I whine before feeling the tension in my stomach snap and my orgasm flush through my body. I can see the smile in his eyes as he watches me come undone, making a mess of myself while crying out his name and clenching around his finger.
“Was that good, princess?” He asks, standing up and undoing the buttons on his shirt with one hand while pushing his hair out of his face with the other.
“Best one I’ve had in a while,” I pant, trying to get my breathing back to normal.
He simply smiles and slips his button up off, tossing it beside the bed. He grabs both of my hands and pulls me into a sitting position then reaches down and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Let’s see how good those pretty little lips look around me, hm?”
I blush and reach for his belt, making eye contact as I undo it slowly and unbutton his pants. I see his jaw clenching as I take down the zipper and begin to tug at the waistband. My breath hitches as his dick springs up and brushes my face in the process. That same smug grin he keeps doing creeps onto his lips as he takes himself into his hand and pumps his cock steadily while looking down at me.
His free hand comes up to grab my jaw, his thumb parting my lips and teeth. He brushes the rough pad of his thumb across my tongue gently a few times before pushing it to the back of my throat, chuckling when I gag and pull away. He slides his head into my mouth and closes his eyes in pleasure.
I grip his base and pump with a twisting motion a few times before taking all I can of his length into my mouth. I begin to bob my head back and forth, stopping at the tip to swirl my tongue around his head every so often. His breathing gets heavier as I run my free hand up and down his abdomen, my nails leaving a trail of red marks in their wake.
He brings both hands into the lengths of my hair and twists it once around his hands before tugging my head back and thrusting himself further into the back of my throat.
“Look at you taking it so well, such a good girl for me,” he groans as he continues pumping in and out of my mouth.
He throws his head back and I can feel his dick twitching, so I pull back and hold my mouth open with my tongue out, ready to swallow his load.
“Ready to take it down your throat, hm? I have something else in mind, baby. Get on the bed.”
“Get me out of this thing first,” I beg, standing up with my back to him motioning to the zipper on my dress.
I feel his warm hands touch my hips and trail up my sides before brushing across my back and tugging the zipper down, pulling the straps off my shoulders and letting the dress hit the floor. I can feel his breath on my back as I feel the clasps of my bra coming undone slowly. I slip it off and toss my panties aside before crawling up the bed. I press my chest to the bed and arch my back as I feel the bed dipping beneath his weight. I feel his presence behind me before two hands come down to knead my ass and give it a light smack.
“It’s like you already knew how I wanted you,” he laughs and pulls my hips toward him.
“Lucky guess,” I giggle, my breath hitching soon after as I feel his hard dick sliding up and down my folds.
He slaps his tip against my entrance a couple times before pushing into me and sucking in a harsh breath.
“Such a tight little pussy,” he says as he bottoms out and holds for a few seconds.
I’m aching for movement so I wiggle my hips back and forth, feeling the fullness and how he feels against my walls. He grips onto my hips and squeezes, pulling out halfway before pushing all the way back in harshly.
He picks up his pace and the room is filled with moans and the sound of our skin slapping together. I can’t help but throw myself back into him, desperate to somehow have him deeper than what’s possible- it feels primal and animalistic. His sweat drips onto my back as he pants and keeps a steady rhythm, and the noises coming out of me are something I’ve never heard myself do before.
His thrusts get slower and slower, more unpredictable, before he pulls out and flips me onto my back, legs wide open for him.
“Touch yourself, baby. Let me watch.” he demands as he stays on his knees between my legs jerking himself.
I bring my hand down to my clit and rub small circles, watching as his eyes rake up and down my body. I bring my free hand up to my breast and pinch my nipple between my fingers, rolling and tugging gently.
His mouth hangs open and I watch the muscles in his arm contract as his grip tightens. I bring my finger up from my pussy to my mouth, tasting myself on my fingers and getting them wet before returning to my core, rubbing back and forth on my clit faster than before knowing I’m about to spill over the edge. I bite my lip to stifle my cries as my high crashes through my body, my head rushing and body tingling.
This must have been enough for Matt to break, and he watches intently as he spills his warm load onto my pussy, drips falling down onto the sheets underneath.
He falls down to lay beside me on the bed, both of us dizzy and dazed. I watch his chest rising and falling rhythmically as he catches his breath, not laying for too long before he gets up and quickly walks to the bathroom, returning with a washcloth.
“Can I?” He asks, sitting between my legs and holding the rag out, a much more innocent look on his face than the last time he was in this position.
I giggle and nod, appreciating him wanting to help me clean up. This is such a different experience than any other one I’ve had in this line of work. It felt so much deeper and personal. I can’t let my mind play tricks on me, though. He’ll have another girl in this room before another week passes. I’m just another sugar baby he can get off to and forget about. I keep the smile on my face despite the way I’m feeling, knowing I need the money and I can’t screw this up by bringing up any sort of emotion.
He tosses the wash cloth into the bathroom trash before picking his shirt up from beside the bed and walking over to me.
“Uh, you can wear this.. if you want?” He says seeming unsure of himself.
“Oh, my original dress is in the drawer over there, that’ll probably look more normal than a big button up when I go back through the lobby,” I giggle and sit up, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed.
“I meant like.. if you wanted to stay a while? I don’t have anything comfier but I figured it’s better than a dress,” he trails off, shifting on his feet as he looks around the room.
Stay? I’ve never had any of these men clean me up before, let alone offer for me to stay.
“Y-yeah, sure. I mean, that sounds great! You don’t have anything else going on tonight?” I question, trying to gauge his reaction.
“No, nothing going on. I just..” he picks at the skin on his fingers before claiming a spot beside me on the bed and staring intently into my eyes.
“Did you feel it too? I’ve never felt that way with any of these hookups before. I feel like you get me. Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I’m being a fucking idiot and reading too much into it. Let me get your check,” he says shaking his head and abruptly standing up.
I grab his hand and hop to my feet beside him, trying not to smile like a fool.
“No, no.. forget the check, Matt. I felt it too.”
He exhales a deep breath before gripping my face with both of his hands. “I want to get to know you properly, Y/n. I don’t want you to feel like I’m just using you.”
I press a kiss onto his lips and pull away smiling.
“Give me the damn shirt.”
351 notes · View notes
toxicanonymity · 7 months
Text
Hunger.
7k, raider!Joel x f!reader
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Raider master list ⭐ Joel master
raider playlist 🖤sweet pea (smutty)
SUMMARY: Joel takes you on an eventful trek. You have a bit of a meltdown and he comforts you in a way he hadn't before. He kills a guy. And later, Joel finally goes down on you because he craves you and can't physically resist. WARNINGS: I8+ oral f receiving 🎉, unsafe P in V, creampie, jacking off, brief violence (og raider typical?), hurt/comfort, neglected animal (he's ok), angst, dark fluff, emotional tension, POV changes. A/N: 1/3 smut. Can read alone - Joel has been resisting the urge to kiss you. Carter is Joel's right-hand man. Jack was your bf Joel killed. Happy 6 months to the 1st raider Joel fic, have some oral.
—You 🌸🫛—
You're reading in a clover patch at one end of the trailer while Joel chops wood. Two of his men come up the hill, and Joel tells you to stay put while he talks to them. Even when Joel addresses you, they don't look in your direction. They stay in the doorway of the trailer. You put your book face down and start looking at the clovers while you try to eavesdrop.  You can't hear what they're saying, but it sounds like someone might have tampered with one of the vans. You brush your hand through the leaves, and one catches your eye. Without plucking it, you gently separate it from the others to make sure it's not an illusion. There really are four leaves. You smile and get down on your stomach to look at it. You think about leaving it so it can grow more. That's what you did when you found one earlier in the week, but you pluck this one.
The men go back down the hill, and Joel goes inside for a moment before emerging again. You're laying the clover leaves flat between the pages of your book when Joel calls you inside. Then he leans against the trailer with an arm above his head, the side of his wrist resting near the top of the door frame as he waits for you.  He's wearing a body holster now. "C'mon, let's go," he shouts so you can hear him. 
"Ok," you call. 
You just want to finish pressing the clover into the page, but he rushes you: "Now." 
"What for," you ask.
"Cause I said." He disappears inside, and his back looks so broad, framed by the holster straps. 
You come in and pout in the window nook with your book closed, waiting for him to explain. There's a belt on the kitchen table.  Joel emerges from the bedroom and tells you he's going down the hill to help fix the van, and you're coming.  
“you good in that?” he asks, looking at your spaghetti strap dress. You nod. You like the dresses he gave you, and it’s still warm enough, you think.  He confirms, “Sure ya won’t be cold?” and you nod. He seems glad. 
He approaches the kitchen table holding something strappy and leather. He pulls out a chair and faces you in the window nook. 
"C'mere," he says. "Gonna carry your gun today." 
"Oh," you put down the book. Sounds exciting. Sounds like he trusts you. "Yeah, sure," you try to play it cool. He takes your knees and swings your legs toward him. 
"Gonna see if this piece'a shit's worth anything. If not, ya wear mine okay?" He thumbs the shoulder strap of his holster. 
You frown and mutter, "I like when you wear it," eyeing the muscles straining his white shirt.  He suppresses a smile, but you see it in his eyes. 
"Gimme your leg," he commands. You give him your leg on your shooting side. You watch his face. He has a toothpick behind his ear.  He bends your knee and puts your foot on his thigh. He lets the skirt of your dress fall all the way down your raised leg, exposing your panties. His eyes linger there, and he draws in a slow breath as he unbuckles the strap of the holster. He wraps the strap around your thigh and mutters, "good."  He slides the strap into the buckle, then tightens it. "Too tight?" He asks. 
"No."
He fastens the buckle on your inner thigh, and his massive hands map your thigh, checking the fit. You flinch in pleasure as his fingers graze the edge of your panties.
There's a long ribbon dangling from the other end of the holster where another strap should be. He laces it through two hand made grommets on each side. There are two more empty holes on the top of each side. 
"Here," you offer and take both ends of the ribbon from him. You tie it in a bow on the outside of your thigh. 
"That gonna hold?" He asks. 
You shrug. "Feels ok, what do you think?"
He's not listening. His eyes have returned between your legs. You spread them a little more, and innocently widen your eyes. He wets his lips, and his gaze remains for another inhale, then he pries his eyes away, sticks the toothpick in his mouth, and lets your foot down.  You stand up and he hands you your gun, then adjusts himself, quickly cupping his crotch through his pants as you slide the gun into the holster. 
"Walk," he mumbles. 
You walk the length of the kitchen. 
It's a weird sensation, having one of your legs burdened by a weight while the other one is free. But aside from that, it's fine. 
"Alright?" He asks.
"Yeah." 
He nods, "Good. C'mere."  You stand right in front of him, between his knees. "Hold your dress up for me."
You hold it up over the holster. 
"Higher. Belly button." 
He grabs the belt from the table and when he picks it up, ribbons are dangling from its holes. The ribbons have their ends burned and melted like a shoelace for threading.  He fastens the belt securely around your bare middle, then threads the loose ribbons through the empty grommets on the top of the holster and secures them. 
He turns you to the side, tugs at the ribbon, and mutters, "good." Then he can't help but grab a handful of ass, and your bottom lip creeps under your teeth.
As he turns you to face him again, he takes the toothpick out of his mouth and gives you a serious look. "Comin' with me today, sweet pea. Ya do what I say, understand?"
You nod.
"I say get outta here, ya run. I say stay put, ya don't fuckin' move." 
"Got it."
—-
He puts the toothpick behind his ear and picks up a few pieces of jerky off the counter as he stands up. He hands you a piece. 
You take a bite and chew it as you walk down the hill. You watch his jaw flex when he chews.  You tell him, "This one's good."
"Cause Carter made it," Joel notes.  You cringe at yourself,but he doesn't seem offended. "Turkey," he adds. 
Turkey, that's why. Much better than venison. You haven't had poultry in a while, not even grouse. Traps have been empty. 
"I love yours," you tell him. 
Joel gives you an appreciative pat on the back of your head, then his hand trails down your back, over the swell of your ass. He slides his hand under your dress and palms your butt cheek. He lifts it, then lets it drop. 
Joel brings you around the front of the stash house where the vans are normally parked and tells you to wait. There’s only one van. One of the other guys took the second van to get gas and isn’t back yet. 
You reach under your dress and adjust the holster as you sit down on a patch of grass to watch. Joel's muscles glisten and flex as he lifts the hood of the van and props it open. He looks around the inside of the van and dabs his head with a bandana that he tucks back into his pocket . He looks under the van while you pick tall blades of grass and braid them together. 
When he's done, he tells you they need a part. Need to go to the junkyard and see if they can find one. You’re going with him and Carter on foot.
The junkyard is a few miles on the other side of Joel’s trailer. You go down that side of the hill and walk through the abandoned mobile home park to get there. It’s the first time you’ve seen most of it close-up, aside from through the scope of Joel’s rifle. The rest of the journey is mostly on a dirt road, and you have to climb through a fence to get into the junkyard. 
It feels like you’re there for a long time. You hear the weak bark of a dog in the distance. Joel thinks it’s coming from the woods. It stops.  There’s a house that looks abandoned, but Joel thinks there might be junkies in it. He says they gather around there. He’s even found one sleeping in a car. When Carter finds a part they think will work, they have trouble taking it off the truck. They don’t have the right tools. Brute force isn’t an option because it could easily break. 
The three of you cautiously approach the house and the barking starts again. The structure is run down, and the windows are busted out. It’s small, can’t be more than a couple of rooms. 
—--
As Carter sweeps the house, you go around back with Joel, and there's the dog. He's skinny and his bark is weak and strained. He's chained to a pipe on the side of the house. The pipe has been pulled a little bit outward so it's leaning, but he wasn't strong enough to free himself. He's a scrappy little mutt with a floppy ear. Probably less than 20 lbs (9 kg). You and Joel both stare at the dog, then Carter calls from inside, “Miller!”
Joel looks around to make sure you’ll be alright for a minute. “Don’t move. Stay alert. Hand on your gun.” 
As Joel goes inside,  Carter says, “Think he’s alive.” 
“Infected?”Joel asks. 
“Nah, see the track marks?”
“Piece’a shit left his dog to die.” 
Outside, the dog watches you. He sits attentively with his head down.  You put on a soothing voice for him. "Hey, buddy. Whatcha doin'?" He lowers his head almost to the ground as he slowly stretches his arms out, then his tail starts to wag hesitantly, staying close to the ground. He begins to whine.  There are a couple of bones behind him with no meat left on them at all. 
Carter comes out to watch you.  There's a metal bowl upside down out of the dog's reach.  "He needs water," you say. Carter looks around then reaches into his backpack and hands you his water. You pour some into the dish for the dog, and his tail begins to wag with more pep. When you reach out to touch the dog, he flinches and backs away, then cautiously returns and gets closer to you than he was. 
Carter gets closer, and when he reaches out for the dog, it growls and barks ferociously. Carter isn't afraid–it's too small to be afraid of. He reaches for the dog's collar and the dog chomps his hand with a vicious growl, high pitched from his throat. He doesn't want to let go.
"DAMN!" Carter yells. "SHIT," he shakes his hand.
"No," you firmly tell the dog. The dog lowers his stomach onto the ground and raises his brows pathetically with a whine. 
"He's just scared," you tell Carter as he rinses the wound with the rest of his water.
"I know, I know," Carter nods. He puts his water back in his backpack. "Feisty little fucker." He spits on the ground. 
“We’ve gotta get him out of this,” you mutter.  
Carter tries to stop you. “Don’t touch–”
You hold your hand out to the dog, and Carter sighs in resignation. The dog reaches his neck out to sniff you, then licks you. He lets you touch him. Then you touch his collar and he growls, but not as bad. The collar has inner spikes that must be hurting him. It's too big and has some slack hanging down from where it's been tightened.
Joel comes outside with a bag of tools clinking heavily against each other. 
"What the hell's goin' on out here?" You give Carter a hopeful glance and he doesn't snitch on the dog for biting him. 
You look at Joel. "He's gonna die if we don't get him free," you explain.  Joel lunges toward the dog and you try to warn him, "WAIT-"  Joel stops short of bending over and instead looks at you. The dog goes after his ankle, bearing his teeth and going nuts.  Joel shakes his leg free. You tell the dog, “No" and he submits on the ground with a whine. Joel looks at the dog and raises his gun. 
"You wouldn't," you whine. "He's protecting me."
“Course i wouldn’t. Damn.”
Joel steps closer and aims at the drain pipe behind the dog, shooting the chain to break it. It hurts your ears but it works. The dog yelps and skips out from the building, chain dragging behind him. Joel takes the bag of tools back to the truck where they found the part, leaving Carter with you while you try to free the dog. 
"C'mere," you sit back on your knees and open your arms for the dog. With the freedom of movement, you can work the collar off him. The dog whimpers and paws at the collar with you. When he lets out a sharper, high pitched whimper, you freeze as it triggers a memory. Your chest feels hollow and long-buried grief stabs at the backs of your eyes. You push it away. You don't want to cry. You want to be tough and whatever else you need to be for Joel to always take you with him. The dog whimpers again and you return to the task. You free him from the collar and he trots away from the house. 
— Joel ⛓️ —
When he gets back, the dog is playfully pawing at your knees.  You scratch behind his ears and he rolls over. One look at your face and Joel knows what you want. 
"Alright, let's go," Joel says and looks at the ground next to you. He steps forward and the dog growls. "It's ok," you tell the dog and you reach for Joel's hand. 
“Maybe he wants to come with us,” you say as casually as you can. 
Joel clenches his jaw and shakes his head. 
"I can take care of him," you plead, your eyes big and watery. "He's not big, he doesn't need much." 
Joel shifts his weight as he looks at you for a moment. "I know ya get bored-"
"Not because I'm bored," you protest. "He's hungry."
"No," Joel tells you firmly and your tears overflow. God damnit, not here. He's hungry because he was chained. He'll be fine now.
Joel doesn't want to share resources, doesn’t want the barking to attract attention, and doesn’t want someone to come after the dog–after you–if there’s anyone left to come. The junkie inside is as good as dead, but they run in packs and they’re dangerous.  
"It's for your own good, sweet pea.” Joel really thinks it is. 
You shake your head no. "I had one," you sniffle. "Before." 
Joel’s nostrils flare at the shake of your head, then his stomach drops. He doesn't want to know about before. He does, but he really doesn't. He covers his mouth with the crook of his thumb as he rubs both sides of his beard. Before. It gets harder and harder to avoid. He shakes it off.  All he can do is keep you safe and take care of you the best he can, which means taking care of only you. He shakes his head no again, then reaches into his backpack. He throws a piece of jerky as far as he can. “He’s fed, Gonna be fine.” He throws another piece. 
You watch the dog run off for the jerky, but you're in a trance, thinking about something else. 
“Let’s go, baby,” Joel steps forward, wraps a hand around the inside of your bicep, and gently pulls.  You try to resist walking, and his grip gets firmer. You stand there watching the dog, feet planted on the ground, muscle tensing under Joel's grip.
Joel faces you and cups your face with both hands, making you look at him. He gets a few inches from your face and lowers his voice.  “Ain’t gonna spank ya in front’a Carter, but ya better move.”  He means it. Non-negotiable.
He grabs your arm again, and as he starts dragging you away, you blurt out, "Her name was Daisy. She saved my life."
Joel ignores it.  “Move. Now. Or I’m pickin’ ya up.”  You relent and stop resisting. Smart. He wouldn't want to regret bringing you with them.
Joel squints into the ground as the two of you walk. Carter walks ahead, not wanting to get in the middle of it.  “Maybe this one could save me, too," you suggest. "if you’re gone.” 
Damnit sweet pea, you sure are smart. Nice try, but that's what Carter is for.
"Dog that size?” Joel laughs. You compose yourself. You walk in silence for a few minutes, but Joel is still thinking about it. “How,” Joel asks, and adjusts his backpack. “How’d she save you? Must’a been bigger, right? meaner?”
Carter looks over his shoulder with a side-eye at the word “meaner,” but doesn’t reveal his injury.  
You don’t answer Joel. You're checked out. You keep eyeing the tree line, but you wouldn’t. . . There's no way you’d run, right? 
You look at him with your eyes red. “You don’t wanna hear it.” 
The vacant look on your face makes Joel stop in his tracks to face you. “Tell me,” he demands. 
You sniffle and look toward the tree line again. “Can I go pee?”
Joel can’t read you right now, which disturbs him. “Yeah,” he mutters and puts his massive hand on your back, guiding you to the edge of the forest. 
He starts to come in behind you, and you ask him, “Do you mind if I go?” 
He swallows and furrows his brow as he looks at you. You must read his concern, because you hand him your bag. He nods. He steps into the woods, but tries to give you some space, without losing track of you. He doesn't wanna have to chase you down, but damnit he'll tackle you if he has to, to save you from yourself. His stomach is uneasy.
There’s a hollow, rusted truck about 30 paces away. You go on the other side of it. Joel knows you’re not just pouting about leaving the dog. There's more to this. But you’re right, he’s not sure if he wants to know. 
Until he hears you sniffling, and it's not just sad, it's scared, painful.
Ah, fuck it. He moves as quietly as he can.
“Sweet pea,” he says softly as he walks around the old hollowed-out car. You’re squatting–not peeing, just hugging your knees, facing the abandoned car. You're shaking and your cheeks are wet. There's not much space, but Joel gets between you and the car.  He takes his backpack off and drops it to the side.
“She wasn’t afraid like me, Daisy,” you choke out and wipe your cheeks with the heel of one palm.  “They,” you croak. You pause and try again. “He had a gun-” you close your eyes. “Pointed at, pointed at me," you take a deep breath and keep your eyes pinched shut. "He was, he was gonna—but she wouldn’t," you choke on a breath. "She wouldn't stop barking.”  
"Shhhhh, it's ok." Joel cuts you off. It's too hard to see you re-living this. He doesn't want you to get to the details. He squats down. His head is full of pressure, and his heart is full of rage. You take shaky, shallow breaths. 
He puts a hand on your shoulder and lets his knees into the ground. “Breathe,” he says. “Breathe, sweet pea.”  You lean forward, letting your weight into his arms, and he holds you for a minute as you regain your breath.  He cradles your head.  "Yeah, you're okay, I got ya."  He buries his mouth in your hair. "I got ya, baby," he whispers. You wipe your eyes on his shoulder and your cheek catches on the holster.  When you lift your head, you apologize and he shakes his head no.  He brushes a fresh tear off your cheek, and arousal stirs in his pants.  
“Who did it,” he asks, unable to mask the darkness in his question. 
“Just a guy,” you tell him. A guy like himself, Joel assumes with disdain. 
“What kinda guy” 
You sigh and he hates making you think about this, but he needs the answer. “Mean. Had a gold tooth.” 
Joel takes a deep breath and nods. 
"FEDRA," you add, and Joel's face goes cold. His mind goes blank. For a moment, he doesn't even breathe as the life is sucked out of him and replaced by ice cold rage. FEDRA. Not a guy like him.
 “How’d ya get away?” Joel asks. 
You look at him for a second, doing a double take at his face.  You shake your head. “You don’t wanna hear it." You bury your head in his neck again. You’re right, he doesn’t want to, but he insists.  
“Tell me.” 
“Jah–” you stop and look at Joel’s face. His jaw clenches. He knows what's coming, but the thought of FEDRA has fortified him with numbness. 
“S’okay, sweet pea.”
“Jack shot’m.” 
Joel takes a deep breath and looks up at the forest canopy, then bows his head and looks at your knees, bracketed by his own. For a moment, Joel is filled with an uncomfortable appreciation for Jack. But that fades into, no, it should have been Joel, he should’ve had you all along, he should’ve been there to save you *and* your dog. 
“He take good care of ya?” Joel asks in self-loathing. 
You shrug. 
“Better than. . .now?” He can take it.
“No,” you shake your head. “He didn’t shoot him dead.” 
Jackass fucking moron cuck. He left that motherfucker breathing? Suddenly Joel is glad he killed Jack. 
Joel nods, “I see.” He keeps nodding slowly, looking to his right at the moss on a far off tree, clenching his jaw.
"And I didn't have a gun," you add. "Cause I killed a guy Jack said not to." Joel scoffs. You could've killed the guy yourself if not for Jack.
You continue,  “and. . . Jack didn’t cook.” Joel chuckles, caught off guard -- he'd forgetten his original question. You keep going, “And he didn’t–I didn’t–I didn’t feel the same,” you wipe your eyes.  This has gone far enough, and Joel knows it's his own fault. His stupid question.  He takes the toothpick from behind his ear.
You look at him with your eyes all watery, and Joel's cock twitches. The next thing he knows, his massive hand is wrapped gently around your jaw. You put your hands on his shoulders, then straddle him. You wrap your arms around his neck. 
"Mmm," he sighs as your warm crotch meets the bulge in his jeans, and he swells harder against you. He holds your face about two inches from his, looking down at your mouth, then your nose, and your eyes again. He puts his toothpick in his mouth and looks past you as he lets go of your jaw. You bury your head in his neck, blinking warm tears into his skin, making him harder. He whispers your name. He relaxes and takes the toothpick out of his mouth just in time for a branch to fall on the car with a loud clang. 
"All good?" Carter yells from the treeline. 
“Shouldn’t stay here long,” Joel mumbles as he puts it back behind his ear. ”Bad area.” He eases you off his lap back onto your feet, as you both stand up. He brushes dead leaves off his pants and your knees. He adjusts himself, puts his backpack over one shoulder, then reaches down and you take his hand.  You walk a few steps together and he looks back at you slightly behind him. He realizes you’re shaking. He drops your hand, goes in his backpack, and pulls out a flannel that he packed even though you said you were fine. He unfolds it, holds it out, and helps you put it on. 
“Thanks,” you whisper and rub your nose. He keeps his hand on the back of your neck as you walk.
Joel stews and broods as you leave the forest together. He wants to go back in time and kill everyone who’s ever hurt you, anyone who let you get hurt, and anyone who failed to hurt the people who hurt you. His muscles are all tense, and his veins are throbbing.
When you get to the treeline, Joel asks Carter, "Can ya gimme five?"
"Sure thing, boss.".
“No ones gonna miss that asshole," Joel mutters as he checks his gun then sets his sights on the house. 
Joel can’t go back in time, but by God, he’s got to kill someone. He drops his backpack then hurries back to the abandoned house, rifle in both hands. When he gets there, he puts the rifle around his back and grabs the dog chain off the ground on his way in. 
—---You 🌸🫛-—
You and Carter look at each other. “How’s your hand?” you ask him. 
“It’ll be fine,” he reassures you. “I dunno where the little bugger went,” he looks around for the dog.  
You both ignore the sound of the chain thrashing around until you hear grunting and look toward the house. Punches are landing. Carter puts a hand on his rifle but doesn’t move yet. Joel grunts and yells between punches. A minute later, Joel steps out of the house, walking backwards, with the chain pulled taught, and a bloody man dragging behind him. Joel kicks him up against the wall, hits him in the face with the butt of his rifle, then wraps the chain around the drain pipe where the dog was tied up. Joel hits the man again, then aims the rifle and calmly shoots him. Even if you never see the dog again, you're certain the dog is better off without that man. Joel wipes blood splatter off his brow and scowls at the ground as he walks back to you and Carter.
“Ya good?” Carter asks him. 
Joel nods. He’s sweaty, chest heaving.  You try not to let your eyes linger on the remaining blood. You observe his throbbing veins instead. The whole scene has you clenching your thighs.
You walk mostly in silence. When you stop for water, you realize you're being followed. Joel doesn’t notice, but you see the dog duck behind an old car when you turn around. You keep a straight face.
You hear something in the distance. Dust is kicked up down the road. Carter says, “Finally.”  It’s the van that still works, picking you up. You didn't know it was coming and wish the dog could follow you the rest of the way home, but you don’t say anything. You're glad he's unchained. 
—–
When you get back to the stash house, Joel works on the broken down van. When he’s done for the day, he takes you back to the trailer and washes the grease off. When he comes out of the bathroom, you're sitting in the window nook looking at your book, but thinking about the dog. He comes over, wiping his hands off on a towel. "Wanna go out 'n' shoot?" He seems to want to cheer you up.  
Joel goes first. He looks through the scope at the trailer park. Ever since those guys showed up one night, he's looking for other raiders or troublemakers. Then he lines up a shot at the usual target. Your eyes are on his biceps. When Joel is about to take aim, the rare sound of ducks honking startles you. They should’ve already flown South. Joel gets up on his knees and aims toward the front of the flock. He hits one, shifts ahead of the flock, and hits another. It gives you butterflies. You hear a thud as the second one hits the ground. 
“Nice!” you tell him. He winks at you and puts the gun strap over his shoulder. You smooth your dress under your butt as you stand up, then adjust the thigh holster. Joel groans as he stands up. You peer down toward where the birds fell, and something is moving up the hill. A bird, moving strangely. A dead bird, in a little dog's mouth. 
You gasp. Joel looks at you, then follows your eyes. The bird is as big as the dog.  His mouth is open wide to fit the neck.  He crests the hill and drops the bird. "Good boy!" You praise. He does a happy circle and trots back down the hill. 
You look at Joel and try not to smile. Joel puts his hand on his hip and shifts his weight to one leg. He looks down at the ground and rubs brow with the flat of his index finger, squinting. When the dog returns with the second bird, Joel mutters, "alright, big guy," and squats down to accept the bird from his mouth.  Then you barely hear him mutter, "good boy." The dog does another circle and trots around the other side of the trailer. 
 "How'd he find us, all this way?" You marvel. 
"Must have some hound in’m," Joel shakes his head. “Guess ya made an impression.” 
Joel starts a fire and boils two big pots of water. The dog keeps a respectful distance, lounging in the same clover patch where you were sitting earlier. Joel chops the heads and feet off the birds, and tosses them on the ground. The dog scurries over, wagging his tail. He drags one of the duck heads over to the grass to chew on with his butt in the air and his tail wagging furiously, all the way upright now. 
Joel beckons you back inside to wash up and change. He takes a quick shower while you take off the flannel and wash your hands in the kitchen sink. You take off the belt, untethering the ribbons, but you leave the holster on. You sit back down in the window nook.
—-
When Joel comes out from the bathroom, he sits down, manspreads, and pats the kitchen table in front of him, looking at the skirt of your dress as you get up from your seat. You unholster your gun and set it down, then use your hands to help yourself onto the surface, sitting on your dress so your thighs won't stick.  Joel spreads your knees so he can be between them, and grabs your ass to scoot you closer. 
He lifts the dress to look at the holster, and he puts his toothpick in his mouth. 
"s'prised it worked," he mutters. He eyes your legs and runs his hands all the way up your thighs with a deep breath.  "Looks good on ya, too," he murmurs. He thumbs the ribbon of the holster, then unties it. He unbuckles the real strap, too. Then he lifts your knee, slides the holster out from under you, and sets it aside with the gun. He runs his hand over the indentation in your skin from the buckle. "that hurt?" He asks. 
"No." 
He puts his elbows down on either side of your hips, and his biceps rest against your thighs. He looks back and forth between your breasts and takes the toothpick out of his mouth. Without taking his eyes off you, he throws it into the kitchen sink and it hits the metal with a light plink. 
He furrows his brow and looks at your body, then puts his cheek flat against your breast at the lace neckline of your cotton dress while he palms the opposite tit. He turns his face to nose your nipple, and it hardens through the fabric of your dress. He dampens the cotton with his mouth as he flattens his tongue against it. One hand holds your back, near your shoulder blade for leverage, with his thumb hooked under your arm. 
He kisses wetly at your breast through your dress, then glances up at you. His hands slide up to the straps of your dress. He gently nudges the straps off your shoulder. His fingers skim your nipples as he curls his thick fingers into the lace neckline, then pulls the dress down below your tits.  He presses his wide tongue onto your nipple and closes his eyes as he latches onto it. Then he lets go with a soft pop and sucks below the nipple as he massages the other breast.  You're gushing arousal with your legs wide open.  He inhales through his nose and his stomach growls. 
"Joel," you sigh, resting your hands on his muscular back. You watch his vein 
His only response is "Mmm," into your nipple.  You're throbbing, and the more attention he pays to your tits, the more your cunt aches to be filled. You want to let him explore your body, it's not something he normally does, but it also makes you want his cock so bad. You want him to slide you off the table and sink you onto his massive erection. He's really taking his time.  You take a deep breath and try to relax. Your clit twitches. 
Joel pulls down the dress a little more, exposing an inch or two below your breasts. He switches sides, dragging his mouth to his right, your left.  With your left nipple in his mouth, he looks up at you and makes sleepy eye contact. His pupils are blown wide. 
"Joel, I want it," you plead.
His tongue trails as he moves his mouth an inch to the right of your nipple, then he closes his eyes again. He licks and sucks the outer curve of your breast, massaging the other one with a thumb lightly brushing the nipple, then the heel of his palm flattening it into your breast. His eyes open to watch his massive hand moving languidly on your breast. 
You whine his name again and slot your fingers into his dark, curly hair. He doesn't look up. You finger his curls and the pads of your fingers lightly caress his scalp. He pulls his mouth off your breast and backs his head away enough to look at your body. You let your fingers fall out of his hair and rest back on his shoulders. One of his hands moves to rest on your hip, his fingers curling around your flesh and his thumb brushing the hem of your dress. 
His voice is low and husky. "Ever feel like ya just. . ." He meets your gaze with hungry eyes, then looks at your lips. "gotta have your mouth on somethin’?"
His eyes fall down your body as he sits back and palms himself through his jeans.  You whisper "yeah," with a smile and begin to scoot off the table so you can suck him off. He abruptly leans forward and stops you with both hands firmly on your hips. He doesn't let you move. His brow furrows. He looks back and forth between your breasts and noses a nipple again. He murmurs low and gruff into your supple skin,  "Ain't talkin' 'bout you."
Your chest erupts in goosebumps.  He drags his hands down your dress to the bare skin of your legs, then slides his massive palms back up your thighs, slipping his fingers under your dress, leaving his thumbs hooked on top. You brace your hands on the table to lift your butt for him. His hands keep moving up, reaching your hips.  The fabric of your dress bunches above your ass, then he curls his fingers under the waistband of your panties and begins to take them down. You let yourself back down on the table as he slides the underwear down your legs. It dangles between his fingers as he brings his hand to your neck and caresses the side of your throat with his thumb.
You feel the damp cotton against your throat and smell your own arousal as he grips your jaw. He locks eyes with you for less than a second before his gaze drifts downward. He returns his other palm to your breast, fingers slotting under your arm to hold you steady as he pushes you down until your back is flat on the table. He nudges your thighs farther apart.  He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose and hums "Mmm." 
He drops the panties on the table. He spreads you open and thumbs your folds, bringing the moisture up to your clit.  He hunches over to bring his face between your legs and his left hand reaches up to fondle a breast.  He drags his nose through your slick and inhales, then moans at your scent. He plants his mouth on the crease of your thigh. He sucks the skin into his mouth, then lets go. He runs two knuckles through your folds, then gently nudges his middle finger  inside. Your walls spasm around the intrusion and he breathes, "god damn." 
He pumps his finger once and adds a second digit. You moan, and he hums a deep "Mmm," in response.  He takes his fingers out and sucks one, then both into his mouth.  "Fuck," he breathes. 
He doesn't waste any more time, spreading you wide open with his thumbs and burying his face in your cunt. He starts at your entrance where your wetness pools and licks up from there, punctuating the first lick with a kiss on the clit that makes your thighs tremble. Then he laps at you more selfishly, like he's thirsty, like he needs to drink you. His tongue starts flat and stiffens as he digs for more and explores each crevasse. He moans into your folds.  You've never felt anything as powerful and precise as his tongue.  It's stronger than his fingers.  It makes you tingle in one swipe, then presses into the tingle for relief.  He holds you gently until you wriggle in pleasure and he holds you down firmer with one forearm across your lower belly.  
He breathes through his nose and moans as he devours you. When he pauses, he draws in a deeper breath through his mouth then exhales vocally against your wet cunt. 
"Feel good?" He asks with a glance to your face, then plants his mouth on your clit. 
He slides one then two fingers into your core again and you gasp then answer "y-yeah," as he sucks your clit while he pumps them. 
He takes his arm off your abdomen to unbutton his pants and take his stiff cock out. He pulls his face away from your pussy. You're throbbing, and your body races to replenish all the moisture he's sucked up. He gathers some on his fingers then also spits into his hand and wraps it around his length. You want it inside you so, so bad. You hear the squelching as his hand moves up and down his shaft. 
He brings his face between your legs again and puts his arm back on top of you to hold you still, angling his elbow so his thumb is planted at your clit. He laps at you again, moaning into your throbbing, swollen lips. He firmly licks between your clit and hole, then thrusts his tongue into your entrance and you whimper. He tilts his head and jabs his sharpened tongue into you again and again, pumping his cock all the while.  He noses your clit as he sucks and laps, then fucks you with his tongue again.  
You writhe under his arm. "Yeah," he whispers before planting his mouth again. He works your clit with his thumb as he thrusts his tongue into you, dragging it against the top wall, and your desperate cunt twitches against him. You let out a long whine, and his thumb gently rubs the top of your clit, over your hood. 
"Joel," you whimper and it turns into a moan. 
His thumb slows down, and he gathers more slick on his fingers. He wipes it on his shaft, then pulls you by the thighs closer to the edge, unsticking your bare ass from the table. You sit up on your elbows and whimper, "want you. . ."  
He's holding his cock, chest heaving. "Want this?"
"Yeah-yes," you whimper. "Please."
He gazes darkly at your cunt and decides, "Ain't done yet."
You whine his name as he puts his face between your legs again. He sucks your clit for a few seconds until you're whimpering, then he plants his mouth a little lower.  He flattens two fingers to rubs your clit while he fucks you with his tongue. You moan his name as your climax seizes you, and you clench around his tongue. He moves his hand from your clit to your mound to hold you steady as you come. He withdraws his tongue from your hole and laps up and down your folds for a few seconds as you continue to twitch. 
Then he stands up, holding his stiff, wet cock.  His face is flushed, and he's shiny from the nose down.  He braces a hand on the table and teases your clit with his swollen tip.  You flinch in pleasure, still reeling from your first orgasm. He notches his tip at your wet little hole, holds onto your thighs,.and shoves himself into you with a groan. He stays in for a moment, sighing “Ohh, fuck,” admiring your body as it rushes to accommodate him. You spasm around him, still twitching with aftershocks.
He backs up then slams into you with a low growl from his chest. It's a lot to take, but god it feels good. He lifts your legs and puts his arms under your knees, wrapping his hands over to hold your thighs as he buries his length in you, grunting and sighing. His balls slap against your ass. His biceps flex, and It isn't long before you begin to moan and writhe, and squeeze his cock. 
"Good girl," he breathes. "Good, sweet pea."
He closes his eyes and fucks you through it. He breathes deep and slow, like he's trying not to come yet.  He slows way down, moans, then bottoms out and begins to pulse. He brings his hands to either side of your body and hovers over you while he thrusts slowly with each warm burst he releases. You milk his cock until his balls are empty, then your contractions fade. 
Joel hovers there, admiring your body. Then he slides out and sits down on the chair between your legs again. His armpits are warm and humid on your thighs.  He puts one hand on each breast and lowers his head to rest his cheek on your lower abdomen, tickling you with his beard. He wipes his mouth on your belly and a spot of drool from the corner of his mouth hits your skin.  He stares off at the front door of the trailer in a trance, gently cupping your breasts. He mumbles, "Taste so good, sweet pea." 
You reach for his hair and he doesn't stop you from fingering his curls. His eyelids droop, and after a few seconds, he closes his eyes.  You lightly massage his scalp again. 
He only allows himself a minute or two before he tenses and clears his throat. He lifts his head and slides his hands under your arms, helping you sit up straight. 
“I'll check the birds,” he says as he tucks his cock away.  He squeezes your thigh and gives you a wink before he stands up to go outside. 
------------
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Thank you for reading and engaging 🖤 It means the world to me when you show him your love! whether this post is new or old. I also love when people throw a comment when they re-read. It's like adding coals to the fire that keeps me warm and writing lol.
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januaryembrs · 1 year
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THE MAKING OF A MAN | Jon Snow x reader
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Request: @thingy-mar said — hii!! can i request a jon snow x reader, centered around the reader being a woman and hiding at the nights watch for some reason and shenanigans ensues?
Length: Posing as a man on the night’s watch doesn’t quite go as smoothly as planned when you meet Jon Snow and sweet Sam Tarly.
Trigger Warnings: brief and very subtle hint of the possibility of sexual assault but none happens, I dropped the c bomb twice for the first time in a fic!!, foul language, violence, nudity, fem!body reader.
Author’s note : the way I had make a man out of you from Mulan viciously on REPEAT while I was writing this that was the energy I was going for. I hope you like this! Also! I finally got 1k followers, kisses for every single one of you I love hearing from everyone of you, and I appreciate you all always 🥺❤️
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You cursed every god there was for making the North so fucking cold. Mother used to tell you stories of southerners like yourself turning to stone the moment they got too close to the wall, when the air dropped to freezing and the blood in your veins pumped out frost. Usually, you had a thick head of hair to at least keep your neck warm, but that was gone too. Chopped below your ears to give the impression of masculinity. 
It was never supposed to be like this. Your family had been starving for the past year, your farm barely getting on without the help of your father since his condition weakened with the rotting fever he caught last Winter. Your brother did the best he could, and you gave up reading to give him the extra set of hands. But you were just a girl, not nearly as strong and efficient as your guilt ridden father who could barely stand let alone plough a field as he could once. 
You knew how to hunt, proficiently. But with the cold setting in even further down the continent, animals had become scarce, and you were all withering by the day. 
So your meat head of a brother had turned to more drastic measures. He had stolen. Stolen from the wrong wandering lord that so happened to have flashed some silvers. And within a day, the letter had been posted to your door with the midnight black seal, summoning your idiot brother to the Watch as punishment. 
Without him, your crops would perish. Your poor mother would starve. The animals would become fragile and die too. Your father would be seen as a disgrace. You simply couldn’t allow it. So you left in the dead of night, cut your hair and muddied your face, hid every aspect of your body that could give the impression of a womanly figure, and headed to the North stowed upon the Night’s Watch carriage.
You dragged your hood further down your face as you watched over the edge of the wall. Duty had been difficult to settle into since you were careful to not talk too much or get too close to anyone in case they were able to decipher the feminine qualities of your face. But it had been three weeks now, and you and two other ‘men’ were stationed on the top of the wall. The nights only made the air that bit more cold to your displeasure, your torch you stood by did little to nothing to keep you warm.
“Not used to the cold?” It broke you out of your self-pitying daze at the sound of a deep voice to your left. Two boys around your age had been chatting amongst one another, not that you’d paid them much attention, but it seemed in their silence they had taken an interest in you. 
You froze up, lowering your voice as you had been the few times you’d spoken. “I’m from the south. Everything was much warmer there,” You replied simply.
“Where are you from?” The voice pressed, though you hadn’t glanced their way just yet, hoping they’d just leave you be.
“Ashford,” You replied shortly, biting your lip nervously. The more you spoke, the more chance there was of them realising you were not quite who you said you were. 
It was silent for a moment, and you heard the two men shuffling around, as if debating whether to press you further.
“I’m Sam by the way,” You finally turned your head to meet the faces of the two men, not wanting to draw attention to yourself by being completely rude. 
Sam had some of the kindest eyes you think you’d ever seen. They stared at you with a hint of skittishness that you assumed was from being sent to the Watch, but as if to encourage you to talk more. His face was soft with youth, and he flashed you a small friendly smile. “This is Jon,” He pointed to his companion. You were much more intimidated by the shadowy eyes you met. His serious brow and expression looked down on you, a complete contradiction to Sam’s gentle face. Sam caught you gawking at Jon with something close to fear at his dark expression and knocked him on the arm lightly as if to prompt him to say something to you. 
Jon caught himself in his moody presence, giving you the smallest of nods and almost a smile. “Alright?”
“Jack,” You replied, figuring your brother wouldn’t mind you stealing his name since you already posed as him. 
Sam opened his mouth to say something else, when three more men stalked down the length of the wall, your commander leading ahead.
“Shift’s over boys. Go get some supper,” Your superior orders, the men taking over your place at the wall. You walk away before Sam can make any more small talk with you, wishing for nothing but your bed and some quiet.
It hadn’t been even two days later when you next saw Jon Snow and sweet Sam Tarly. You were out in the yard sparring under the commander’s watch, and it was safe to say you were not inspiring anyone. Being a girl, though you had been raised doing manual labour, you were not nearly as genetically strong as the grown men around you. Even the boys just turned fourteen were giving you a challenge. 
“Pull yourself together, man! That boy hasn’t even dropped his balls yet, and he’s fucking you over!” The commander screamed at you as a measly teenager had again beaten you to the floor. Your face was feverish with embarrassment. You could feel yourself getting stronger by the day, but it was still null in comparison to the surrounding men. You felt pathetic. “The worms they send us these days,” He tutted, ushering forward another boy for you to fight. 
You huffed out of anger, the lad not giving you any respite before he lunged at you with his steel sword near missing your plated stomach. After beating his blow away, you went in for your own attack. You caught his face by chance, a small slice across his cheek being all to show for two hours of being knocked on your arse in front of them all. The victory was short-lived however when the younger boy shoved forward and with brute strength you landed on your back yet again. 
Your sword went skidding across the cobbles, under the awaiting foot of a large black boot and you felt two sets of eyes on your figure. Laughter resounded throughout your group of weaker men, and you fought back the urge to tear up at the sound. You were purely pathetic. 
“Show’s over, lads,” The commander yelled, silencing the laughs to mere giggles as the boy strode away proudly to his newfound friends. You scurried to your feet in fear of looking even smaller than you felt. The commander’s eyes narrowed on your jumpy frame and he walked over to where you stood, your head held low. “Go wash the shit out your trousers and come back to my yard a bigger man tomorrow,” 
You nodded meekly as he dismissed you for the day. Turning on your heel and heading back to your room to bathe, the tears brimmed your lash line as you willed yourself not to cry. 
Jon and Sam watched you go, the former man reaching down to pick up your weapon from his feet. It was clear you would not last much longer on the watch with your shockingly weak frame, even Sam who was harmless and slow had bested you though he had winced in regret every second. “Poor lad doesn’t have it in him, I know what that’s like,” Sam murmured, your smaller form retreating into the showers. “I’ll take it back to him. Probably doesn’t need the boy top of the class to rub it in,”
“I’m not top of the class,” Jon protested, though he handed the sword over to his friend’s awaiting hand, “I don’t understand how a boy so weak could have made it to the Night’s Watch,”
“Seems like a quiet type to me. It’s them ones you’ve got to watch out for, my mother always told me.” The Tarly boy replied, heading after you with your sword in hand.
— 
Even the bastard showers were cold at the night's watch. At least at home you could warm water in front of an open flame for a bath, you thought. Here there was not nearly enough water for each man to have a bath, instead they collected snow from the roof of the keep and drained it into a storage tank on the roof to fall naturally as a shower when the hatch was opened. It was painful, as if needles were falling onto your skin and burrowing their way in with every drop, but it was the only place people would leave you alone. 
And alone and crying in the freezing showers you were.
That was until you heard the latch unlock on the door, and heavy footsteps enter the small damp room. Oh god, please no.
“Y/n? You left your sword,” You breathed a sigh of heavy relief when you realised it was Sweet faced Sam, not someone more nefarious with heinous intent for the weak boy crying in the shower, that would get a hell of a shock when they realised he in fact had no cock and a pair of tits. Though that relief soon melted into horror when you realised he was coming closer to where you stood. Is this what men did? Invade each other’s privacy so easily? You would have never had another woman come so close had she known you were nude, but here was Sweet Sam Tarly coming closer as if he was simply asking how your mother was or if the crops had been good this year. 
Sweet Sam Tarly that was now behind you, talking to you as if he wasn’t about to find out your best kept secret.
“-and I said to Jon he shouldn’t be the one to bring it to you, I didn’t think it would be nice for the best fighter they have to return your weapon to you. It would rub salt into the wound, wouldn’t it? It would be like-” Sam chattered on happily and you cursed his sweet sweet nature as you looked down at where you stood facing the wall, tits bare and cunt free for the world to see. 
“Sam,” You cut him off sternly, one hand trying to hide your top half, “Just put the sword down there please,” You pointed to where your clothes lay.
“Oh! Yeah, of course.” He did as you asked, and noticed how stiff you stood, as if afraid of him. “Are you okay?” You heard him shuffle closer, “I didn’t frighten you did I-”
“Sam! Stay there!” You ordered, mind racing what to tell the boy who didn’t listen since you could still hear him coming closer to comfort you. You must have turned your head enough for him to see where you had been crying, and it only made the gentle boy even more worried for his new friend’s wellbeing as he stepped closer yet again.
“Oh, don’t cry lad. We all cry sometimes. I cried just last night, thought my toes had dropped off after our night shift and I feared of what I’d find when I took my shoes off.” Another step closer, this time a hand on your shoulder, “But it’s okay, we’re brothers now. And brothers talk to each other about everything,” You could feel him leaning forward as to give you a hug, fully aware that you were still nude. Is this what men do? Men were weird, you concluded.
Either way, your secret was completely fucked if he reached around and saw the two lumps of fat that stood you out from the rest, that you still very much did not want him to feel.
“Sam, no!” You turned around to push him away, and the poor boy looked as though you had slapped him. That is until his gaze dropped almost immediately, as men’s eyes do, and he saw the two enlarged breasts staring back at him in a way no man would normally grow. 
His mouth dropped open into an ‘O’ shape as he trailed down to your wide hips, thick thighs and your very obvious lack of dick that you covered with your hand before he could look for too long. His innocent blue eyes rushed back up to your face and suddenly everything about your face was feminine. He had always thought you had a weirdly pretty face for a man, and even the rounded shape of your arse had startled him when he had entered the bathing room, though he had simply thought it was being surrounded by men for weeks on end fogging his lust. He saw the fright in your eyes, and it all clicked for him your predicament. 
You were a woman, posing on the Night’s Watch as a man. And you were most certainly not supposed to be here. 
“Sam please,” You begged, stepping forward to hold his arm in desperation, “Please do not tell anyone of this,”
“You’re a- You have tits and a - SEVEN HELLS,” He stepped back in shock when he took another look at your cunt as if he didn’t believe his eyes the first time, “YOU HAVE-”
“Sam, please calm down,” He ripped his fur off his shoulder to cover you up despite the fact you had your own clothes.
“I’m ever so sorry, My Lady. I would have never burst in here had I know,” He fussed over you, making sure you were shielded from his view.
“I’m not a lady, I’m just a farmer’s girl,” You ordered as he went to undo his jacket so that he could cover your bare arms. Even when you had thrust a very dangerous secret upon him, he was incredibly kind. Your heart warmed as his rosy red cheeks trailed up to your face, taking in your face as if he hadn’t spent the past three weeks with you. “You can’t tell anyone of this,”
“You need to leave, it’s not safe for you here,” He urged, “Some of these boys will do a lot worse than just come into the showers while you’re here. And even the rational ones haven’t seen a woman in months, you don’t know what they might do,” Sweet Sam Tarly tucked your wet hair over your shoulder so it wouldn’t stick to your face. 
You sighed, knowing he was telling the truth, “If I confess now they’ll behead me for lying and treachery. And then they’ll kill my brother for allowing a woman to serve in his place. I’m only here because my parent’s farm would not survive without him.” 
Sam looked over your pretty face in despair. “Very well. I’ll do my best to keep you safe,” The boy promised, wrapping his furs tighter around you. You looked at his kind expression, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug. For the first time in three entire weeks, you felt safe. Secure. Like you didn’t have to watch your back twenty-four seven because you finally had a friend on the Watch who knew your secret.
“Thank you, Sam. You’re a good man,”
“You’re a good man too,” The broad boy joked and the two of you laughed between one another, his enormous arms wrapping around your waist. 
That is until you realised something was pressing in between the two of you that was clearly unintentional on the sweet boy’s part. You gasped and pulled back, and the movement seemed to knock sense into the Tarly boy. 
“Sam!” 
“I’m so sorry, I’ve never seen a woman bare before- I’ve very mixed feelings right now-”
For the first time in a month, you felt settled at the wall. You had gained little strength yet, but your fighting skill seemed to almost be improving. You still hated the cold with every ounce of your being, but at least you had a friend. Sweet Sam and his forever grumpy accomplice Jon. 
Unlike Sam, Jon relished in the silence as you did, something you appreciated from time to time. Though it meant on nights like this, when Sam was not on night duty as you two were, there was a prolonged silence between the two of you that you neither liked nor hated. You could tell he scrambled for something to say to you, to be the one to be a friend when Sam was not there to do so, and you appreciated his efforts. 
Finally, after an hour of watching into the inky black darkness over the edge of the wall for any movement, he opened his mouth to speak.
“You have a dainty life back home then?” Jon asked, making your head shoot up at the break in the silence. You must have seemed puzzled as he explained himself. “You don’t seem the heavy lifting type, is all,”
You nodded, noting his dark eyes and how they seemed to latch onto yours in interest, “Oh. No, I suppose not. My older brother did all the farm work since my father got sick,” You said, each breath misting in front of your very eyes in the freezing weather. Fearing it made you sound lazy as his head turned away in indifference, you continued, “I’m much better with a bow, truthfully. I’ve never had to wield a blade when catching rabbits and deers,”
Jon smirked, and you found yourself somewhat proud you had drawn that from him. He was a handsome man. So very handsome in a way that was obvious to a woman surrounded by men every single day. You hoped he did not have a woman at home, though you supposed they would never meet again, nor could you ever do anything about it seeing as it deemed you to behave like a man for the foreseeable future. 
“No, I don’t suppose deers and rabbits would put up a good duel,” He replied, and the two of you fell back into silence. “I could teach you, if you’d like? I taught my younger brothers before I left,”
You looked at him in disarray. The men of the knights watch were not known for their kindness, more so their heathen behaviour and ferocity to the wildlings. Jon Snow was not like them, he was kind and understanding. He did not look at you with scorn at your difficulties. He was offering to help. 
“You would?” Wide eyed, you asked. “You would help me?”
He nodded, shrugging and readying his blade, “I don’t see why not. Come on, arms up.”
And so for two hours Jon taught you. The dark-haired man held the blade as if it was part of his arm, as if he had known nothing but him and that sword, moved swift like the river that cut through your hometown. He was tough on you for your posture, exclaiming he had seen his septa with a stronger back than you to which you told him it was probably the silver spoon he had rammed up his arse that made him stand so stiffly. You had thought briefly you had gone too far when he straightened and gazed at you, before his face broke out into a laugh. Jon Snow had a wonderful smile, you realised.
You continued on for another hour, Jon showing you how your feeble nature could help you become nimble and fast. “As long as you make them bleed, it doesn’t matter where you hit them,” He said, using one of his huge, firm hands to adjust your stance and grip on your sword. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart race to smell the intoxicating scent of his sweat and old soap rolling off him into the cold air you inhaled. It was just because you had never been so close to a man, lest seen one so close in the past month with your efforts to stay hidden from view. Your heart felt like it was racing as you stepped away from the broad-shouldered man that encompassed your frame with his own, not watching where you were treading so long as it got you away from that terrible siren call of a scent he gave off. 
“In no time at all you’ll be the best in the yard,” He teased, as you moved back even further. You noticed the patch of black ice too late however in your haste to ironically come to your senses. Your footing was swept from underneath you by the frozen cobble, and your body thrown backwards with the weight of your armour sent you tumbling over the edge of the wall’s crenel with a loud yelp, “Perhaps not as- JACK!” 
Jon lunged his body forward, arms outstretched to grab your hands in his own. You felt your body slam into the side of the bricks, legs dangling precariously over the frosty edge and you swore everything seemed impossibly colder on this side of the wall. Your heart raced even more than when you had been near Jon, racing as if this was your last moment on earth which it very well could be. How you were not dead you will never know, but every single prayer you could ever say to the gods ran through your head as you breathed out finally. 
“JON!” You yelled, gripping onto his large hands with a tightness you didn’t know you had. If he was to let go even the slightest amount, it would all be over. 
“I’ve got you!” He called back, two hands grabbing your forearm securely. “I won’t drop you, but you need to pull yourself up,” 
Your free hand grabbed onto an empty alcove in the wall’s brickwork, the ice nestling there biting into your fingertips as though it were a feral dog. You winced as you felt your skin stick to the ice instead of melt it, but you used the wall to kick yourself up further although your legs felt near numb with fear. “That’s it, now grab this part,” Jon encouraged, and you did so, moving to hold the top of the wall as a more secure plane.
One of Jon’s arms wrapped around your waist to give him a better grip of your slack body, and it took all his strength to hoist you, your sodden clothes and your armour back over the wall. The two of you stumbled back with a grunt of effort, and you think you finally exhaled for the first time in five minutes by the time he got you to the right side of the barrier, his arm still wrapped around you as yours never withdrew from grabbing onto his shoulders in terror. 
The two of you stayed quiet for a moment, as if you didn’t quite believe what had just happened. “Are you alright?” Jon whispered, letting you go though you were still quite shaken up.
“I think so,” You reply, though neither of you miss the tremor in your tone, “Thankyou, Jon,”
“Always. We’re brothers now. Brother’s look after each other.” He replied, clapping you on your shoulder heartily, not missing the way you looked away from him when he named you his family, “Now come on. That’s enough excitement for one night.”
— 
Everything came to a screaming halt not even a month later. You had grown in muscle, not nearly as much as a normal man, but your sparring had improved immensely and life was becoming less difficult as you acclimatised to the cold. Sam and Jon were good friends, particularly Sam who always watched your back to help you keep your secret safe from the outside world. 
But you had shaken Jon. He had never felt this way about a man before, never seen a man with such beautiful eyes or such a softness in their gaze. Sam held a kindness to him but not in the same delicate manner you did. Save when you were sparring, something you had put every piece of yourself into since the night you nearly fell from the wall. The way you gazed at him as if he was the greatest warrior you had ever seen, though he doubted a farm boy would have ever seen the bloodshed of war. 
He saw how the other men treated you. He and Sam tried to steer them clear of picking on you for your weaker frame, but on the days they couldn’t be with you they hoped you were tough. He knew you weren’t. 
It was a night as such that they had both been stationed on watch duty where they found you. They had been relieved of duty not ten minutes earlier; the elevator creeping its way down to Castle Black at a frustratingly slow pace. All Jon wanted was his bed, as it seemed Sam did too from the way he ran a hand over his eyes as if the weight of the world held heavy on his shoulders. 
“Is it just me or do the nights seem longer up here?” Sam asked, rubbing his hands together hoping to warm the poor digits up by even a few degrees. It was in vain though, even he knew that. There was no such thing as warmth this far north. 
Jon opened his mouth to answer his good friend, but was interrupted by the sound of a high-pitched scream that was quickly cut off and some loud scuffling around the centre of the training yard. 
The two men looked at one another as the elevator met the cold stone cobbles, somehow both of them having a good idea who was responsible for such a cry. Jon kicked the iron door open, the pair of them rushing out of the metal hold at a surprising pace for two men freezing their arses off. They were confronted with three of the taller men the night’s watch offered surrounding a figure on the floor, mouth and limbs bound with cloth. 
“Get his clothes off boys. Let’s see if a night in the cold air will toughen him up. Commander says even the youngest boy brought here is more of a man than this runt.” The larger one, who Sam knew to be named Derick ordered, and his heart skipped when he saw who it was they had on the floor, squealing and writhing like a shot animal.
Of course, as they’d both suspected, it was you the pig bastards had dragged out of bed in the middle of the night for a practical joke. But he watched as they undid your top buttons and was thankful as Jon made it just in time to shove the man off you.
“That’s enough!” The Stark’s half son yelled, loud enough to wake the superiors of the watch so they could deal with the rats. 
The boys huffed, shuffling away from your limp body as Jon drew his sword and stared at them all coldly. “Snow bastard here to save the day, once again. Does your arse ever tire of you wearing it like a hat?” Derick snapped, eyeing Jon up wearily as if deliberating his chances against the man. But it seemed he didn’t fancy his luck, as he shouldn’t have, and stepped away from your bodyguards in annoyance. 
“Just go back to bed and you’ll be lucky we don’t tell the commanders what you were going to do.” Jon murmured darkly, as Sam also reached for his weapon at his side if they wished for a fight. He knew Jon could take them all on his own but anything to steer them away from you. 
The boys looked to one another in a sneer, before huffing and sauntering off back to the dormitory, muttering curses about the three of you. The moment they turned, Jon was at your side, ripping the gag away from your mouth so you could breathe. It wasn’t until then that he noticed you had been crying and his heart plummeted. You hiccuped as the cloth was removed from your face, Sam cutting free the binds on your ankles as Jon worked on your wrists. 
It wasn’t for another minute that you had shaken yourself out of the fright the awful bastards had given you, and you actually thought to thank the two of them. 
“Don’t mention it,” Jon said, pulling your wrists forward to free the knotted cloth there too. His large fingers brushed along your hands warmly, and you felt a shiver run down your spine at just how easily his body had adapted to the cold. Though you supposed it had always been like that being a boy of Winterfell. 
You were still silent however, not knowing quite what to say as your hands fell free with his quick work and you lifted your arm up to rub away the dried tears in vain. The dark-haired man must have seen your crestfallen expression, and did what Jon did best to all the men he saw struggling. He comforted you. 
“Hey, don’t let them get to you. You’re getting stronger by the day.” He murmured, pulling your arm away from your face to see your bottom lip still quivering in shame. “We made no warrior overnight. Do you think the Mountain woke up one day with the strength of a god?”
“I heard he split his mothers ribs in two the day he was born,” Sam chimed in, though he quickly regretted his chatty nature when the two of you looked at him, Jon with an exasperated glare and you with pure fright. He gathered his words the way Sam did best, and added; “Probably just an old wives’ tale though.”
Jon turned back to you, his eyes falling to where they had unbuttoned your shirt and leaned forward to help, “What I mean is there’s always going to be someone bigger than you. My father once told me how he beat the Sword of the Morning and even he-” Jon froze halfway through his sentence as his fingers brushed against your flesh under your shirt. Something was wrong. Something was different to his own body, to any man he had ever seen before. It wasn’t until you realised why he had gone quiet that you shoved his hands away, your soft feminine hands holding him off as if he’d burned you. 
You had been so enraptured in his words, the comfort it brought you, you didn’t realise just how much of you he could feel until you followed his eyes to where he was staring at your chest wide eyed. His gaze flicked to your face and just like Sam, he took in your guilty eyes, your womanly features that he had always known were pretty. Though he’d always placed his thought as of jealous rather than of lust.
But his mind raced as if confirmed by feeling those mounds on your chest, reimagining your face in a whole new light. 
Your eyes met, and the second they did, you knew he knew. 
Jon stood up fast enough to give him head spin, or was that just the revelation that either you were indeed a man with a startlingly pretty face and tits to match or were you very much a woman?
“Jon!” You shimmied your legs out the rest of the rope that Sam had been struggling with, standing to meet his shocked expression, “Jon, wait,” You reached out for him, though he stepped away as if you were suddenly cursed.
“No- You can’t-” He breathed out, forcing himself to finish his sentence though the thought pained him, “You can’t be a woman. Do you have any idea how dangerous this place is for a woman?”
“Of course I do, Jon! I’ve feared for my life every day these past months, feared for my virtue. I don’t wish to be here, I have no choice,” You hissed back as Sam stood beside you, hilting his knife. 
The lack of shock on the Tarly boy’s face clicked in Snow’s mind, “You knew about this?”
“I walked in on her in the shower unfortunately,” He replied, spinning to look at you with a red tinge to his cheeks, “Not that- I mean I didn’t want to invade your privacy- You have a lovely pair-”
“Sam,” You spat, nudging the boy to stop his mouth that would usually endear, as the two of you looked back at Jon’s aghast expression. Rushing forward to hold on to his arm, a tenderness you could express now, “Please don’t tell the Commanders. They’ll kill me if they know,” Jon’s dark eyes searched your face for any reason as to not take on this potentially fatal secret, but all he found was a scared woman begging for his help. All he found was the person he had been keeping his eye on for months since that first day you met. All he found was a friend. 
“Alright,” Jon conceded, noticing now just how soft your hands were as they clung to his arm in need, “So what do they call you?”
“Actually, what do they call you?” Sam piped up, a puzzled look on his face as you spun to meet his eyes with a relaxed smile. “I’ve been calling you Jack for the past month and you’ve not once said anything.”
You chuckled and told them both your real name, your gaze meeting Jon’s once more as he stuck out his hand to shake, his eyes softening when he saw you looking up at him in hope. 
“Welcome to the night’s watch, Y/N,”
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taintandviolent · 8 months
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tendencies ; au!James March x reader
summary: You're a new patient at Cortez County Sanitarium, and a particular Doctor has taken a liking to you and your murderous tendencies. w a r n i n g s: 6k words. au, female reader, shameless smut, female receiving, medical kink, examination kink, possible abuse of power, fingering, masterbation, penetration, mentions of murder/death. a/n: [requested by anonymous, some ideas were changed due to personal preference! i'm so sorry it's another long one I ramble alsjfhdskjfhsk. if you see any mistakes, no you didn't because this wasn't beta-read at all!] full fic & taglist under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! /
It finally happened. You’d had one too many manic episodes where you swore up and down you were going to kill them both for treating you the way they did, and your parents institutionalised you. You’d threatened them with the axe your father always kept in the garden, and that was the final straw. Father was on the phone before you had a chance to even get the axe. Off to the looney bin she goes! Mother packed you a suitcase despite father insisting you wouldn’t need it where you were going. She snapped the latches shut and tossed you and it into the backseat of your father’s Ford.
Swell.
Your mother cried as two men in white uniforms approached you, each of them taking an arm. They gripped them a little too hard and you thrashed, which they took as a threat. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw your father take your mother into his arms, trying to calm her as pet her hair soothingly. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, blotting away the running mascara. All for show, you thought.
“When I get out - I’m going to find both of you!” You promised, howling. “CHOP! CHOP! CHOP!”
Your screams echoed down the hallways as you tried to wrench yourself out of the grip of the two men. You certainly weren’t making a good case for yourself that you weren’t psychotic, but your anger blinded you. It filled your veins, rushing through as naturally as blood, and would only subside after you’d heard your mother’s terrified whimper.
The first few days had been every bit as protocol as you’d expected. Dreary and professional, filled with every bit of staunchness possible. The nurses seemed to have a perpetual frown, while the orderlies puffed their chests up, determined to appear as intimidating as possible to the crazies.
Day one was depressing. Intake consisted of them stripping you of your clothes and all belongings, manhandling you as they unzipped and unbuttoned. They promised that your items would stay in the office where you could have them once you were discharged. The tone in the nurse’s voice wasn’t encouraging — but you were certain you’d get out one day.
The orderlies then hosed you down with ice cold water, the frigidness burning your skin in the worst way. Front and back. They handed you blandly coloured clothes without a towel. Of course not. They watched as you uncomfortably dressed, yanking the gown over your head. The fabric stuck to you in the most horrible way as they steered you down the bitterly cold hallways.
Screams, laughter and everything in between echoed off those cold stone walls. As you passed, a few residents came to their doors, peering curiously out the small cutaway in the door, wanting to see if they were the one getting a new neighbour.
You were thrown into a room. Five straps; two for your arms, two for your legs, and one across your forehead. You were told that you’d stay just like that, secured to a bed until you calmed down, which was around lunch time, when your rumbling tummy trumped your need to holler until your throat was sore.
After a blandly coloured pasta dish, you weighed your options and decided that staying out of the straps was ideal, so you behaved yourself for the rest of the evening. You were escorted to another room, much farther down the hall. The number on the door said seventy-eight.
On Day Two, you’d been informed of the rigorous schedule that took place here at Cortez County Sanitarium, and naturally, you’d forgotten it as soon as it left the orderly’s mouth. You didn’t care about the community time, or the rec room, or the biscuit making. You didn’t care about anything, except planning your revenge on your parents and their selfish decision.
Your parents had never wanted you, always wanted you out of the house. They kept your schedule full with extracurricular activities, forcing friendships and relationships, toting around how you “were going to marry early, she’s just such a catch”! You all knew that wasn’t the case at all — you were sick. Sick, delusional and unstable. Hardly wife material for anyone.
They just wanted their house to themselves.
Even if you’d wanted to, you wouldn't be able to join community time seeing as you had been assigned to solitary confinement for an indeterminate period of time, due to your ‘severe tendencies’. Whatever your egocentric, hateful father had told them scared them enough to treat you like public enemy number one. Out of safety for themselves and their fellow patients, the orderlies had flanked you, escorted you to your room, sat you right down on the bed, and locked the door. Who knows what they’d done with the key. All you knew was that three times a day, someone opened the latch in your door, slid a tray of food in, and left again. Nurses came in infrequently to complete routine check-ups and change your chamber pot.
You had nothing to read but the Bible, and nothing to look at besides a confusingly angled visual of the outside world, obscured by a metal grate and brambles. The food was decidedly a highlight and the biscuits were particularly good. Made on site, one of the nurses had said.
On Day Three, it was raining. You took all your bedding off and rearranged it so that your feet faced the window. You’d much rather wake with the sun, and be staring at the door before any of the nurses came into rouse you — they were vicious with their sharp fingertips, prodding you like a child seeing if roadkill was really dead.
As you stood back to admire your interior decorating, you decided that if someone came in and rearranged it, you’d throw a tantrum like the girl three doors down who howled like a banshee every time someone touched her.
The next day, it was raining still. After some bored and delirious pacing of your room, you thumbed through the paper thin pages of the Bible, skimming excerpts that you recalled from childhood as your father had always tried to install religion and morals into your daily life. Aside from knowing the Ten Commandments, he failed miserably. As you flipped through, you noted your copy had been well loved or deeply hated, you weren’t quite sure because every mention of sex had been ripped out or scribbled on.
This isn’t so terrible, you thought. Despite the lack of reading material and the overall monotony, you enjoyed your solitude. Left alone to your own devices all day, free to plot your revenge, and free to rearrange your little room however you wanted.
On the fifth day, there was more rain, but with the exciting addition of thunder. Loud enough that you almost didn't hear the knock. Your eyes flitted from the cool, cement flooring to the door. Someone rapped their knuckle against it several times. There weren’t any words, only painstaking seconds of silence. Finally, the door opened, revealing a man with dark hair and even darker eyes. He stood tall, had a thin, movie-star moustache, and must’ve been a sharp dresser, because beneath his pristine white coat, thin white pinstripes decorated his navy blue trousers.
Despite his charismatic pull, you’d learned to not immediately trust everyone that walked through your door - most of them had a syringe in their pocket and were just waiting for the opportunity to plunge it in.
“Good Morning.” He crooned. “My name is Doctor March, I’m head of this facility.”
Was it morning? You hadn’t gotten your food yet. You pulled your knees up to your chest, staring at him hard. His eyes dropped, momentarily gobbling up the visual of your white underwear, covering a tantalising mound of flesh. He blinked sharply, returning his eyes to yours.
“No need to be afraid, my dear. I’m only here to ask you a few… questions. Simple examination. Get to know each other.”
He took a stethoscope from his front pocket, draping it around his neck. You were hesitant. Maybe it was run-of-the-mill for the head doctor to make his rounds, he did this to everyone, it wouldn’t take long and you would be back in your lonesome before they brought your breakfast. Maybe.
“Now, tell me…” He began, as he confidently approached you. “Why were you brought here?”
“I told my parents I was going to kill them,” you started. “And I — “
“How? Tell me how you wanted to kill them…”
His question stopped you dead in your tracks — up until this point, that was all they needed. Every nurse, assistant, or doctor had heard that singular phrase and scribbled something on their pad. But this Doctor…. This doctor wanted the gory details. He didn’t even have a notepad.
“I told them that I was going to chop them up into small pieces. Like that Lizzie Borden girl.”
“She was acquitted, you know.” He added, warming the chest piece of the stethoscope with his breath. Huh-huh.
You sniffed, adjusting yourself on the bed to move closer to him. The rusty springs squeaked underneath your weight. “Well, if she did do it… I understand why.”
He hummed, pleased. Your red-rimmed eyes darted up to him, confused by the sudden… heavy aura in the room.
“What?”
He said nothing, just grinned one of the most sinister, tight-lipped smiles you’d ever seen. “Deep breaths for me, please.”
He dipped his hand into your gown at the neckline, navigating around the fabric until he felt skin. He pressed the piece to your chest, listening wordlessly. Your heart started racing, and you swung your eyes away from him, hoping to calm it before he noticed. “Go on.”
You took a breath and exhaled once, hard. He moved it to another position on your chest, his knuckles grazing the plumpness of your breast. You took another deep breath, and another exhale. He pulled the stethoscope away, and returned it to his neck. With a single finger, he tapped your bottom lip, indicating that he wanted you to open your mouth.
“So. You wanted to kill your parents with an axe, did you? What else?”
You furrowed your brows at him, perplexed by his unique interest, and stuck your tongue out. He took a depressor from his pocket, and pressed into the meatiest part of your tongue, farther back than you were used to. Your gag reflex threatened, your throat pulsing, but you relaxed. He nodded slowly, seeming pleased. He still looked like he was poised, waiting for your explanation. Your eyes darted from the blurred tip of your tongue to his eyes. Alright, you’d do your best, then.
“Ah tah tha ah wah gahaa tah buh—“
Doctor March laughed; a low, breathy hum. He removed the depressor, wiping your saliva on his inner sleeve. “Apologies. Try again, my dear.”
“I…” You cleared your throat. “I told them I was going to bury the small pieces in the garden and let the Burkes’ hounds eat the rest.”
“Devilish,” he hissed.
“Um…. The Burkes are our neighbours.” You added. He nodded passively.
“Did your parents look fearful? Could you see their expressions glaze over in terror, lives flashing before their eyes?”
“Um… when I went to get the axe, my mother screamed. Loud. I’d never heard her scream like that. I ran towards the door — it was in the garden shed — but she howled and clutched her neck like I’d already done it.”
As you spoke, his eyes were locked on you, enraptured by your telling of this near homicidal experience you’d had. He understood, the drive, the hunger to want to end someone’s pathetic little life. To play God, as it were.
“That’s when my father called the police, and I suppose they called you.”
“Indeed they did. The officers spoke to me directly.”
“They did?”
“Yes. I specialise in murder, you see. Murderous tendencies, rage… both of which you seem to have.”
Shyly, you nodded. You supposed you did struggle with anger issues from time to time….
Noting your sudden sheepish disposition, he cleared his throat. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Rage is a normal human response. To feel unbridled hatred towards someone or something… every human being on earth experiences it. Of course, whether or not they act it, well that defines monster from man. And in some cases,” He added. “The rage is justified.”
To hear that sent a shiver down your spine. The validation, the understanding… perhaps this wouldn’t be such a bad place after all. If being a monster meant feeling, then you were in fact just that. Happily. A monster towards anyone who had wronged you.
“As is that, my dear.”
“What is?”
“Arousal.”
The slat flipped open. An orderly pushed a pale green tray into the slot, as they did every mealtime. Dr. March noticed this and straightened up, removing his hand from your shoulder. He walked to the door, thanked the orderly, and retrieved your tray before setting it at the foot of your bed.
“I’ll let you eat… thank you for allowing me some of your time.”
You could only nod feebly as he walked out the door. Once the lock clanked into place, you reached between your legs, ready to scoff at his accusation until your fingers met your slick cunt. Part of you was embarrassed, another part sour that he knew, and the final part had her tongue out, panting like an overheated dog, wanting him to return.
It was just after lunch time when he came back the next day. The same knocking on your door before it opened, and this time, you felt your heart jump into your throat, thudding away foolishly. This time, he hardly asked any questions, just dove right into examining you like any other patient. Though you hid it, you were in seventh heaven with the way he handled you.
The Doctor took your pulse, pressing his fingers into the inside of your wrist and counting on his watch. While he focused, you studied his face, swearing to remember his dashing features long after he’d left your room again. His black eyes darted over, and you flicked yours away, bashfully. He seemed to commit a number to memory, his lips moving ever so slightly as he said it aloud.
“Head up, please.” His fingertips guided your head, angling it slightly. Without another word, he then pressed two fingers into the pulse in your neck, allowing it throb against the pads. Your breath hitched in your throat.
As though he knew, he stared into your eyes. Confirming that he was right, you stared right back. His breathing was shallow, washing over your lips. Heat bloomed in your cunt, pulling up with a deep clench. He inched closer, somehow still monitoring your pulse. Had the roles been switched, you would’ve forgotten how to count by this point.
“Have you ever wanted to kill anyone?” You asked in a whisper. Your throat was dry.
He leaned so close to you that you could feel his cool breath on your cheeks. “Many times.”
You swallowed. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
This time, he didn’t answer immediately, in his swoon-worthy confident way. Instead, his eyes tunnelled into your soul, dreaming about taking fistfuls of your patient gown and tearing it half, tossing it to the floor and dancing across your naked form. His heavy coat hid what you wanted to see, but he watched your eyes trail down. Had it not been, you would’ve seen exactly what he needed to hide — for professionalism’s sake.
You were unlike any other patient; not in the sense that you wanted to kill people, or even had. Those were a dime a dozen. Your hunger was erotic, and needed sating. Like him, you’d savour the tinier details. You’d take great pleasure in it and after, play gleefully with their blood. He could smell it on you, the need for carnality, for violence.
“You have…” you whispered, closing in the distance. Your underwear were slick with your arousal, you felt your cunt glide against the cotton fibres as you moved towards him. He straightened up, inhaling deeply through his nose. The sudden separation was painful, and you were fairly certain you had let out a pitiful whine.
On the seventh day, it was sunny, but the only hospital staff that visited you was a nurse, who delivered a medication in a tiny paper cup. You clamped your teeth shut, refusing. She tried to force your jaws open with her bright red manicured nails, but you still resisted. With an annoyed huff, she gave up, making a note of the behaviour on her clipboard.
You angrily fingered yourself that afternoon. You thought of Doctor March and his cool hands, and the way that they’d ghost over your skin before roughly grabbing your limbs, yanking you in the direction he wanted you to go. You imagined the way his moustache would tickle the soft flesh of your inner thighs, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh.
Another thought - a darker thought plagued your mind while you pleasured yourself. The thought of him killing. Which, at that point, you were fairly certain he had. The way that he had hurriedly left, refusing to speak any further had told you of his guilty (or perhaps not guilty at all) conscience.
You wondered if he’d killed someone here. Perhaps a patient, perhaps an unsuspecting nurse who had been a little too flirty with him, and he’d used it as an excuse to get close enough to strike. Perhaps he’d killed a rival doctor whom had too big of an ego, a resident from another hospital who tried to climb the ranks of his hospital.
You pictured him, covered in blood and remains. Crimson dripping from his sculpted, veiny arms, with the sleeves of his pristine lab coat rolled up to the elbows. His hair dishevelled, dark strands hanging down in front of his black eyes.
It fuelled your fingers as they pumped in and out, only stopping to draw circles on your clit to bring the sensitivity higher. You came onto your fingers, saying his name over and over again. It started raining again.
It was the ninth day when he finally came back. You had heard his knock, and immediately rushed to stand at the your edge of your bed, hands clasped behind your back. You rocked back and forth on your bare heels, like a good little patient, waiting for instruction.
He opened the door, pausing to look over you. Jaw clenched, eyes burning with intensity. His expression said everything; the absence had been just as hard on him as it was on you — and perhaps, you two had came at the same time. You in your dismal room and him in his ornate, dark office.
He pressed the door shut behind him, keeping his hungry eyes on his meal.
“You crave what I crave,” he hissed, hoisting you up in his arms and slamming your back against the cold wall behind you. Every word sounded so suggestive coming from his mouth, and you longed to hear him speak about everything and anything all at once. You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist, squeezing tight. Your underwear pressed against his coat, fabric grinding against fabric. You whimper at the feeling of the bulge in his pants and even through the layers, he can feel the wet warmth of your cunt.
His thumb hooked around the hem of your underwear, teasing the crease of your hip, before lifting the elastic enough to crawl his fingers underneath the damp fabric. With an exhale, he closed the distance, drowning your whimpers in devouring kisses.
“Just another examination,” he assured, before running his middle finger up and down your slit, smearing your wetness everywhere he could.
There was something thrilling about being fondled by a doctor, perhaps the threat of it being wrong and immoral. You’d heard whispers of hysteria — something that while in his grip, you agreed to having. You were hysterical for his touch, and wanted everything he was willing to give you, despite the ethics. As far as anyone in the halls were concerned, he had every right to examine this patient, and find the cause of her lunacy. The thought had you leaking onto his hand, coating his thick digits in your arousal.
He inserted two fingers into your dripping cunt, sinking them to the knuckle. You wanted to whine, to scream, to bite his collar, and fill the cold hallways with your moans. Instead, you laid your head down on his shoulder, rocking against it in the rhythm that his fingers plunged into you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you pressed your cheek into his white lab coat and panted as quietly as you could. His fingers curled inside of you, exploring your insides curiously. You felt them everywhere, pumping in and out easily.
“Doctor March?” Came a voice from outside.
He froze.
Wide eyes flitted to and fro, your chest heaving with desperate, terrified pants. What would happen if you two were caught? Would it matter, in his grasp? His black eyes rolled upwards and with a displeased groan, the doctor dropped you to your feet. He wiped his fingers on his coat, then turned away from the door to stuff his stiff cock into his waistband, where it would remain until the erection faded. Whatever menial task he was doing would eventually consume his mind enough to take all his thoughts off you. Maybe. Maybe not.
He was gone before you could protest, and you collapsed against the wall in a sweaty mess. But before your depression could sink too deeply into your psyche, the door opened again, and the orderly stepped towards you. Doctor March was still in the hallway, fingers laced in front of his crotch. He was waiting. With two fingers, the orderly beckoned you forward.
“Oh, what now — OUCH!”
As soon as you were out of your room, the orderly took hold of you, digging his thumb deep into the muscle of your upper arm. What was it with them? Couldn’t they just kindly guide you? You wanted to kill him for handling you like that. You wanted to snap his neck, feel the dull crack beneath your hands, and watch as the life disappeared from his eyes like the sun behind clouds. You want to feel his heartbeat slow to a stop, thudding one final time before it faded into nothingness.
When you snapped back to reality, Doctor March was staring at you with a very knowing smile. He bowed his head slightly and swallowed.
“She getting a lobotomy, Doc?” The orderly asked, genuinely curious.
“Something of that nature,” he concurred. “I’m going to start treatment in attempt to cure her hysteria, and preform whatever tests necessary to properly diagnose what ails this young woman.”
You knew what he meant. You felt what he meant. Deep between the slippery walls of your cunt, you felt what Doctor March meant by that. He wasn’t going to lobotomise, he was going to fornicate. You tried to crane your neck to look at him, but he was too far out of your peripheral, and the orderly shoved you forward.
“Good luck to you. She’s a real basket case.”
Once you’d all reached the examination room, which was upstairs and at the very end of the hall, you traded hands, Doctor March putting on a good show for this orderly. He gripped your arm hard — not quite as a hard as they orderly had — enough to depress the skin.
“Thank you, Sam. Please let the others know that I require concentration. Avoid any disturbances at all costs.” “Sure thing, Doc.”
The room was filled with shelves, packed with books on the human mind and all of its maladies. Specimens decorated the shelves that weren’t filled with books; mummified brains, organs in jars. A few plants were shoved into the tiny crevice of a windowsill. You began walking towards them, enchanted by seeing greenery for the first time in almost two weeks.
His stern voice came from behind you, cutting the fascination short. He reached into his coat pocket, retrieving a pair of black rubber gloves. He slipped his fingers into each one, pulling them down and letting the rubber snap back against his wrists. “Ah-ah. The table, please.”
You hadn’t really anticipated a full on examination. Had you read everything wrong? You jumped with each snap of the rubber gloves, suddenly uncertain. Perhaps he was going to lobotomise you. With a dejected sigh, you turned. Maybe later. Putting one foot in front of the other, you made your way over to the examination table and stood obediently in front of it, waiting for his next move. After slipping his arms out of his white coat, Doctor March flicked on a light above, and the shiny metal seem to glimmer underneath it. The coat was hung on a nearby coat stand, and you took a small moment with the delicious new visual. He wore a white shirt, as pristine as his coat, but with black suspenders and black trousers with dark grey pinstripes.
“So, you’re going to attempt to cure me?” You asked, sucking coyly on your bottom lip.
He didn’t answer. Doctor March’s lips collided with yours almost straight away, tossing all tact out the window. He knew what he was doing uncouth and borderline criminal. Of course, a distinguished doctor shouldn’t be dry humping one of his patients in his examination room. It had become uncomfortable though, his arousal swelling well past the point of being ignored. His cock burned with a demanding, carnal need. He continued thrusting his hips upward into your tummy as he peppered your neck with kisses, unable to control the urges to do so.
It was your fault. Simply for being you, which he was unable to resist. He knew that you wanted to kill people as much as he did and that you’d relish the tinier moments of murder. The thought drove him wild, picturing you spattered with someone’s blood, chest heaving, eyes wild with the titillating glimmer of manslaughter. Abruptly, Doctor March pulled away and spun you around, your back facing him. He slid his hands over yours until they reached the shoulders, where he squeezed softly, leaning into you to take in your scent. You could hear his uneven, lust-broken pants as his wide gloved hand eased you down into a bent over position, pressing your bare chest against the cool metal.
“Whether or not this cures your hysteria will remain to be seen… it certainly won’t cure mine. Once I have you, I’ll only want you more.”
With your face smashed against the examination table, you moaned. He had kissed your lips raw, they stung.
“Are you certain you… consent to this treatment?”
You nodded too quickly, wiggling the plump curve of your ass against his crotch. Doctor March groaned — a deep, guttural moan — and took hold of your hips, yanking them backwards into his own groin. “Splendid. Then, up onto the table you go, my dear.”
Obeying him, you turned around, placing both hands on the table and hoisted yourself up into a sitting position.
“Lay back, please.”
He began to examine you as any doctor would - pressing and prodding. You weren’t in any pain, so naturally, the only sounds were your shallow breathing. He felt your lymph nodes in your neck, pressing two fingers delicately against your throat, skating down over your collarbone. Your eyelids fluttered helplessly, which he noticed. They then travelled… carefully… towards your breasts, taking the fullness in the palms. You writhed on the cold, metal table as he squeezed them, rolling your nipples between his gloved thumb and forefinger.
“Perfect,” he crooned. “Perfect.
His hands continued trailing down, pressing firmly into your organs. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, fiddling knowingly with the hem of your underwear, tugging them down slightly. With a deep breath, you dug your heels into the table, lifting your ass off the table. Doctor March smiled, and pulled them down your legs.
“As I said before, my delinquent little darling, you seem to crave what I crave.”
Doctor March took his middle finger, trailing your slit. He then took his forefinger and middle finger and pressed them down on either side of the slit, spreading your cunt wide. The cool air hit it, and you shivered.
“Cold?” He asked.
“The opposite, actually. I feel like I’m on fire.”
Another gloved hand pressed against your naked abdomen, feeling the heat that radiated through the thin rubber. “Indeed you do… and my, my. All for me?”
“All for you.” You echoed.
He inserted one finger, the rubber sliding into your cunt easily. His eyes were on you, locked, to see your reaction. Your eyes closed, you exhaled.
Two fingers, and your stomach muscles clenched. Your pelvic muscles clenched too, pulling his thick fingers further into you. With his thumb, Doctor March encircled your clit, still swollen from the pleasuring before. Your back arched violently, the same way patients’ backs did when hundreds of volts of electricity coursed through their pliable bodies.
Your clear, slick arousal collected in the webbing of his gloves, and Doctor March withdrew them suddenly, holding them up to the light above you. Crystal strands strung between his fingers before breaking into droplets on either side. He smiled inwardly, pleased.
Doctor March leaned down, dragging his flattened tongue the length of your cunt, stiffening the tip of it once he reached your clit — you let out a piercing whine, and he chuckled. “Your sensitivity seems… high.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Please sit up, and move to the edge of the table.” He barked, as he undid his own restrictions. You heard the clang of his belt. “Now.”
You did as you were told. The moment approached quickly, and your cunt clenched at the thought.
He wrapped his hands around your backside, pulling your closer to the edge of the table. With ease, he hoisted your legs into the crook of his elbows, holding them there. Your blushing cunt spread open for him, dripping eagerly. Hard enough that he didn’t have to hold it, Doctor March lined his cock up with his hips, pressing his squishy, hot tip into your slit. He took a fistful of your gown, tucking it back behind you so that he had a clear view of the treatment.
The first breach stung, stretching until your cunt finally gave way to his thick cock. The doctor let out a low sound, his legs quivering with the sensation. He wanted to ruin you, to split you wide open and make you cry so loud that all the orderlies came running. But he exercised restraint… slowly sinking his cock into you.
You trembled in his grip, unconsciously trying to writhe away from him, which only pulled an instinctive ferocity from him. He dug his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your closer to his torso. “Stay still.”
The first few humps were steady and slow, the kind that were accompanied by sweet hushes, and ‘it’ll be okay, my darling’s. However, they disappeared as quickly as they’d come — Doctor March began pounding himself into you, sinking himself all the way in.
As he drilled himself into you, the empty examination room was now filled with a cacophony of sounds; skin slapping wetly against skin, panting breaths, and ecstasy-ridden moans. Every shift of position brought his thick cock deeper into your cunt, hitting the deepest spot he could, until it ached each time the head bumped into your cervix.
You weren’t sure how long he’d been fucking you when you'd heard the hinges on the door creak as it opened. Doctor March didn’t seem to hear it, but you certainly did. You blinked, lifting your head heavily. A nurse stood in the doorway, her slender silhouette illuminated by the brightness of the hallway.
For a fleeting moment, you felt fear. You two were caught. Surely, there’d be consequences. But the thought quickly dissolved when you focused on the feeling of the doctor’s cock stretching you wide open, slipping in and out easily with the mutual arousal that leaked out onto the metal table below. You were the one in the arms of the head doctor — any punishments went through him first. Besides, if he was the one to punish you, you’d willingly accept it. The fear was replaced with deviousness, with delight and you stood your ground, waiting for the nurse’s undoubtedly shocked reaction.
Her eyes flitted all around, taking in the scene in front of her. Bemusedly, you watched as they trailed up his legs to his pants, hanging just below his ass as it bucked back and forth with each thrust into you, burying his cock deep inside. She scanned over your fingers as they curled possessively around the back of his neck, stroking his sweat-soaked skin. Your lips twisted into a wicked, daring smile as your eyes met and it was then that she gasped, covering the entire lower portion of her face with her slender, manicured fingers.
Doctor March, now noticing that you had stopped moaning in his ear, straightened up slightly, keeping the rhythm of his thrusts. He lazily turned his head to look behind him, but he was far too deep into euphoria to respond appropriately. His eyes were heavy, half-lidded as he too made eye contact with the nurse. He didn't stop fucking you. Instead, he groaned hard, and dropped his head into the curve of your shoulder. You heard the sound of the door pulling shut, and her high heels echoing hurriedly down the hall.
“She saw us,” you whispered. “She saw you taking me, Doctor March….”
His thrusts became harder and more erratic as his orgasm built and finally spilled out into you in hot spurts. The coil in your stomach twisted tighter until it snapped with a gush and a screaming, begging moan. You two had both been driven over the edge by yet another concerning fascination, voyeurism. The nurse witnessing this foul, illicit act had been so arousing to the both of you that you had, in unison, come undone on each other.
His breathing eventually slowed, and he backed himself out of you. You felt his cum running out of your cunt and down your legs as your dropped them onto the rim of the table.
“Well, how do you feel?”
“Worse.”
He quirked a brow, tilting his head to the side. “I have another hunger now, Dr. March. I want sex… and murder.”
He smiled deviously, slicking his hair back with one hand. “Indeed. Indeed you do.”
As he retrieved your underwear for you, you hopped off the table. “Do you think she’s going to tell?”
“If she does, we’ll take care of it, won’t we?”
The next day, the tenth day, you woke up with a smile on your face. The rain had stopped, the storm system moving away from your location. It remained cloudy. You hadn’t done anything that morning, except eat breakfast. You’d gone to sleep late that night, waiting until all the whispers and wails had died off. And you pleasured yourself again, knowing that the remnants of the Doctor’s thick cum was still inside you.
Just before lunch time, there was a faint knock, and the door opened. The same nurse who had seen Doctor March fucking you was the one who had come to check on you. You two wordlessly stared at each other, daring the other to speak first. Neither did.
She approached you hesitantly, clipboard in hand and the second she was close enough, your fingers clamped around her wrist, yanking her towards you.
“If you say a word about what you saw, he’ll kill you, and I’ll help him.”
She yanked her wrist back, the fear permeating through her core. Though she didn’t acknowledge your threat before hurrying out the door, you felt that she believed you.
Which, all things considered, was a bit of a shame.
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