#the tags weren't working oops

[fairysluna]

Hi! Could I please request another threesome with Cregan, reader and Jace. Maybe they get jealous when they see reader with another men and want to teach her a lesson? Thank you and love your blog!

i get drunk on jealousy.

Modern!AU — After they've ignored you for a week, you were desperate to have their attention back. Flirting with a random guy might not be the best idea.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.

TAGS — polyrelationship/polyamorous, m/m/f, smut (p in v, clit play, handjob, oral sex, creampie, spitting, cum eating, male on male action), jace x cregan, use of alcohol and drugs, kind of drunk sex, dom!cregan, switch!jace, sub!reader, jealousy, cursing. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — Don't expect so much of this fic, I saw this picture, I saw a vision, and basically my horniness wrote this by itself. Not my best work, but fuck it, this is just for fun. Also, this made me realize that I'm unable to write dom!Jace if Cregan is there too, oops??? I guess??? NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN.

I took this request as an excuse to write this fic so... thank you for sending it and hope you enjoy this!🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.1k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤenglish is not my first language.

Most people on Campus knew about your strange relationship with Cregan and Jacaerys. Some guys would often call you a whore behind your back, while some girls would prefer the term ‘lucky bitch’; it was no secret that the both of them were quite known for being handsome and gallant, almost acting like real life prince-charmings. Every girl would drool for them, acknowledging their chivalry and politeness. Of course, they already knew about the attention that they received from the opposite sex, they knew about how many girls would love to be in your position. Which is why they didn't understand why you were so eager to act like a brat.

Jace tapped Cregan's shoulder as he saw you chatting with some random guy that suddenly appeared next to you on the couch. Neither of them had seen him before, he was probably a freshman or someone that sneaked into the party without invitation. Both pairs of eyes were intently staring at you, watching every move you make. They knew you weren't oblivious enough to not see it; he was obviously flirting with you, and you were clearly enjoying every moment of it. Jacaerys, being the most jealous out of the three of you, tightened his grip around his bottle of beer, his fingertips turning white as Cregan turned to look at him.

“Don't do anything stupid,” he warned him. “She'll deal with us later.”

“But look at her!” Jace snapped, his breathing ragged.

“She's doing it to piss us off,” Cregan attempted to calm him down. “She won't do anything with that guy. Just wait until the party's over and we'll take care of it, okay?”

He looked at him, obediently nodding as he took a long sil out of his beer to calm down a bit. Jace forbade himself to turn your way, ignoring your desperate attempt to make them jealous. Cregan, being a lot less hotheaded than Jace, acted nonchalantly toward your attitude, pretending you were doing nothing wrong, even when he wanted to grab your arm and take you right in that couch just to clarify that you belong to them.

Cregan knew your purpose, you both had spoken about it earlier that day after one of your classes together. They both have been ignoring you, neglecting your needs and spending more time alone — without you. At first you didn't mind it, thinking that they were busy with the final exams and their final projects of the semester; however, when you knew they were using all that time to plan this stupid party you got pissed, almost screaming at him in the middle of the campus, frustrated. Now here you were, sitting with a freshman trying to get in your pants, all while they were still ignoring you.

Both guys spent the rest of the night drinking, playing some games with other members of the fraternity and having a blast while you were standing in a corner, alone and bored; your two lovers out of your sight. Perhaps that was why you couldn't see Jace searching for you everytime he could, unable to control the jealousy that had grown within him. He couldn't find you anywhere around, which made his mind overthink about where you were, and with whom. Cregan would try to calm him down, offering him his blunt which Jace would accept in order to relax.

Hours passed, it was 4am when the music stopped and everyone passed out in random parts of the fraternity house. Cregan and Jace were stumbling their way up to their dorm, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in their bodies as they struggled to reach for their room. They both were holding onto each other until they opened the door and saw you standing in front of the mirror, wiping off your make up and getting ready to sleep. They noticed you had moved their beds together, making a bigger one as you usually do whenever you stayed with them.

They entered the room in silence, and while Cregan was closing the door and turning the lock, Jace stood closer to you almost drooling once he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face on the crock of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin and completely forgetting about the fact that he was supposed to be ignoring you.

“You're so fucking weak, Jace,” Cregan scolded him, removing his shoes and shirt, getting ready to bed.

You turned to look at the eldest guy, who just ignored your intense gaze.

“You're mad?” you dared to ask.

“We both are, actually,” Jacaerys murmured against your skin.

“And why would you be mad? I should be the angry one!”

“Oh, really?” Cregan finally turned, stepping closer to you. “Why is that?”

“You know why! We talked about this and you decided to keep ignoring me!”

Stark laughed dryly, his gray eyes getting darker as he narrowed them. “Is that why you've been acting like a fucking whore tonight? Trying to get into a freshman's pants to get our attention. Fucking pathetic.” He took a step close enough to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You tried to squirm away from him, but Jace's arms tightened their grip around your body, and you had no escape. “Jace couldn't even enjoy the fucking party because he thought you were sucking another guy's cock. You think that's fair? To make him feel like shit the entire night because you were just needy of attention?”

“I- I didn't-”

“You broke my heart tonight, sweetheart,” Jace whispered in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your shirt. “You need to pay for what you've done…”

“I'm- I'm sorry, I never meant to-”

“It seems like you need a lesson,” Cregan interrupted you, tightening his grip on your face and making you whine. “Something to remind you that you belong to us.”

Jacaerys' hand cupping your core with one of his hands, burying his fingers between your folds and covering them with your growing slick. He giggled, “she's not wearing panties…” he informed, smiling up at Cregan who clenched his jaw.

“Get her on her knees,” he commanded, and the youngest obeyed immediately, letting you go from his firm grip.

You fell to your knees, scratching them with the raspy carpet beneath you. Jace removed his shirt as Cregan started to unbutton his pants until they pooled around his ankles along with his underwear. You whimpered once you saw his cock starting to get hard under your haze, your mouth watering as you leaned towards his side.

“Get on the bed,” he pointed at Jace. You tried to stand up and follow the instructions too, yet he stopped you by gripping the front of your head and pulling it back. “Not you,” he sternly said. “Open up.”

Obediently, you did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him press his tip on your tongue. He gave it a few taps, teasing before ge finally decided to start fucking your mouth. Cregan grabbed the sides of your head to keep you still in your position, and his hips started to snap against your throat without further warning. You found stability when you placed your cold hands on his thighs, grasping onto them so you wouldn't lose balance as he had no mercy with you.

You looked up teary eyed, gagging and gulping loudly as you heard his moans slipping out of his plump lips. The small eye contact suddenly became too much for him, so he leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. “Such a delicious mouth,” he praised you, “taking my cock so fucking well.”

His grip around your head started to hurt a bit, his fingertips burying in you as he fastened his pace. It wasn't hard for you to become a mess; your own drool was falling down the corners of your lips as you cried out, your whines being muffled by him inside your mouth, and your slick already starting to leak out of you. Your arousal only grew once he buried himself completely in your mouth, grabbed the back of your head and forced you to stay there for a few seconds, with his length fully sheathed in your throat. Your nose brushed against his pelvis as the air started to escape from your lungs.

“Come on now, baby,” he murmured with a strained voice, feeling his cock pulsing inside your mouth. “Take it… take it all…”

He chuckled softly as you started to tap on his thigh, and he quickly let you go. You gasped once he pulled out of your mouth, gasping for the air your lungs desperately needed. He moaned softly once he saw you; tears on your face, drool falling down your swollen lips — you looked so pretty he even thought about letting you go unpunished and just please you, but then he turned to see Jace; his cock was achingly hard, his ruddy tip leaking as he desperately fucked his fist; he had been so good to you, and you made him feel so bad throughout the night; he deserved a reward, and you deserved a punishment.

Before you could react, Cregan grabbed your body with ease, lifting you up from the ground and carelessly carrying you towards the bed. You moaned with his touch, so needy of him that even his roughness made you squirm out of pleasure. He moved your body around as if you were a ragdoll, shifting your position in bed until you were sitting on top of Jace's pelvis, his cock right between your legs. For a second you thought it was finally the time for them to fuck you, but you were so wrong.

“Grab her hips,” he commanded, using that mandatory tone that drove you and Jace insane. “Don't let her move.”

He positioned himself between the boy's legs, leaving you more confused than before. “What- what are you-?”

“I'm teaching you a lesson,” he stopped you before you could finish your question. “You'll see what happens when you behave and when you don't.”

You saw him leaning down, his plump lips wrapping the tip of Jace's cock and making him squirm beneath your body. Your mouth dropped as you looked at Cregan taking him entirely, his haze fixed in you as the frustration in your body grew even more. The youngest had his nails buried in the flesh of your hips, you heard him moan so prettily that you could even feel the slick oozing out of you, even when you were untouched. It was such a sinful image to witness, especially when Cregan's eyes became teary once he gagged around Jace.

“Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, tears of despair gathering in your eyes as your breathing became ragged. “P-please touch me…”

Jace's hand attempted to reach for your throbbing clit, but the older grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I'll stop if you touch her,” he warned him. All you could do was cry out.

Cregan's ragged breathing would reach your folds, causing shivers all over your spine. You would try to move your hips to at least rub yourself against Jace's skin, but he didn't allow it, holding you down so tightly that you were certain it would leave a bruise.

The moans turned into whines as Jace started to quickly feel the orgasm coming. His skin was burning as Cregan fervently sucked on his tip, using his tongue to clean up the precum spilling from his slit. Whenever you would cry out or move on top of him he would feel closer to the edge, his body burning inside. “I'm so fucking close, baby,” he whimpered, “keep sucking my cock, I'm- I'm gonna fucking cum… f-fuuck.”

You saw Cregan hollowing his cheeks, milking Jace dry as he came inside his mouth. Drops of the pearly seed escaped from his lips and you felt the need to lick them both clean. You needed a taste, anything that would make you feel some kind of relief.

He sat back up, and as soon as he laid his hazy eyes on you, he grabbed your neck pulling you closer towards him. As if it was a reflex, you opened your mouth while you stared at him through your glossy eyes. He let his spit fall onto your mouth, to then pull you close and fervently kiss you. The salty taste of Jace's release lingered in your mouths as you devoured each other, you would whine against his lips, still sobbing as your pussy was already aching for the lack of attention.

That's when the boy beneath you wrapped you between his arms, forcing you to lay on top of his chest. He didn't even let you catch a break before you felt his cock slowly making his way inside of you, and you gasped out of relief. He stretched you out, providing you with that sweet sting of pain that drove you insane. His hands grabbed your thighs, folding you in half as he started to thrust upwards.

“Don't ever forget who you belong to,” he grunted against your ear as you struggled to keep it quiet. Probably the whole house knew what you were doing, and maybe that was their purpose all along. “You're fucking ours, baby. This tight pussy belongs to us, do you hear me?”

Cregan's hand fell hard on your throbbing clit as you remained silent. A whine left your lips as Jace kept bullying your gummy, wet walls with his girth.

“Answer him,” he demanded, getting closer to you and placing his leaking cock on top of your swollen pearl. You felt the room spinning.

“Yes! Yes! I'm- fuck… I'm fucking yours,” you sobbed.

The whole situation became overwhelming, while one was burying himself in the deepest part of you, the other was rubbing himself on your sensitive flesh, searching for his own release as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“Fuck, you're fucking squeezing me so tight, baby,” Jace moaned, breathlessly as he felt the mixture of your slick falling down his sack. The lewd sounds of your folds getting stretched by his thickness almost making him cum again. “So fuckin delicious…”

“We've just started and we already fucked her silly,” Cregan chuckled. “She's a fucking mess for us…”

A layer of sweat covered your body; you felt the blood burning inside your veins, the orgasm approaching you embarrassingly fast as they were stimulating your senses. Your eyes rolled back, the desperate pleads slipping out of your lips as you were begging them to make you cum. You were shaking, your face covered in tears as the moans were ripped out of your throat.

“So loud,” the older teased you, “gonna wake up the whole fucking house…”

“I- I need to… please, I need to cum!”

Cregan leaned towards you, and Jace instinctively fastened his pace, burying himself deeper and harder; you had a hard time thinking straight as the older’s hands tightened around your neck. “Ow, poor girl, wants to cum. I don't think you deserve it.”

“P-please, Cregan…”

“Work for it,” he demanded. “Make Jace cum and then you're free to do it too.”

Almost as if it was an instinct, you started to move your hips up and down Jace's cock, making the thrusts more intense and deeper. The younger moaned loudly, already feeling overstimulated by your movements and feeling his sack heavy with a new load of his release. He thought about how pretty you would look with your legs spreaded and his seed falling from your weeping hole; that image alone almost made him peak right in the spot.

“Jacey, please!” you whined, already growing tired. “Please, please, cum in me!”

“Want me to fill your pretty cunny, baby? Mhm? Want my cum inside of you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes as your walls clenched with his filthy words.

“Yes… yes, please… give it to me, please…”

As a spectator, Cregan groaned loudly, quickly rubbing his hands around his shaft with his eyes fixed in the way Jace was filling you up, bewitched by that bulge in your belly that grew each time that he would bury himself deep inside of you, touching your sweet spot over and over until your head feel dizzy and all that left your mouth were incoherent mumbling.

“I can't… I can't hold it…” you sobbed.

“Come on, baby, I'm so fucking close, just wait for me,” Jace whimpered, his movements getting more desperate and sloppier.

“I can't! I can't! F-fuck…”

Everything came to a breaking point once your release gushed out of you, spurring all over them and making a complete mess. Neither of them could hold back after such an obscene view in front of them, and they were quick to follow. Jacaerys finally spilled himself in you, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. Lastly, Cregan stained your shirt and flesh with his pearly drops, moaning so beautifully that it made you feel butterflies in your belly.

You hissed when Jace pulled out of you, feeling your legs shake while Cregan struggled to stand up from the bed and looking for something to clean you up while you laid against the younger’s body, who softly wiped the tears out of your face.

“Shh… it's okay, you did so good for us, my love,” he cooes, so gently. “So, so good.”

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you mumbled while Cregan returned to your side with a towel in his hand. With soft brushes he started to clean your thighs, your belly and the raw flesh between your legs. “I- I never meant to make you two feel bad… I was- I was being so selfish-”

“Hey,” Cregan stopped you, holding your face with gentleness; so different from his previous touch. “It's already behind us, okay?”

Once he finished cleaning you up, your body fell into Jace's embrace as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him and cuddling with you. He hid his face on the crook of your neck and softly hummed when the remains of your sweet perfume reached his nose.

“We love you so much,” he whispered, “please, don't ever do that to us again…”

You grabbed your face only to see his puppy, brown eyes. A gentle, soft kiss was shared as you felt Cregan laying down behind you and fondling your body, soon you three had your limbs tangled as you kissed and caressed each other without shame. Loving touches that relaxed all of you.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered again to the both of them. “I'll never do that again.”

“Do you promise?” Cregan asked.

“I promise,” you softly nodded.

The Northern boy leaned to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, you both shared a gentle smile which let you know that the anger that was once within him was now fully gone.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!!

GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon

JACAERYS TAG LIST — @iloveharbingers @alynna-m @katharina1111 @simp-aholic

#house of the dragon #hotd #cregan stark smut #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader #cregan stark x jacaerys velaryon #jaceagan #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #cregan stark x you #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x you

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 [Part 1: Goldrush]

There's always a certain sense of childish sadness in a man consumed by rage and anger- because in a man like him, those feelings are simply born from the pain of the past, and the crushing fear of what the future might yet make him face.

Tags/Warnings: Mafia!Tiger!Jungkook, Deer!Reader, mentioned abuse, mentions of underground fights, graphic descriptions of violence, a gun oh no, Jungkook in a suit, it's pretty dark read at your own risk, there is like a hint of fluff?, just let me cook I promise it'll be worth it, do not read this if you're easily triggered/upset by dark and violent themes please thank you

Length: 6.5k Words (oh boy look at the size of that thing)

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Haha remember when I said it'll be 3k words per chapter? well I lied oops

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Jungkook met you after his first fight for the Golden House.

Humming a tune you'd almost danced through the kitchen- though you were mostly focused on helping the other maids and cooks prepare the food for the higher up's currently invited for dinner at the estate. He remembers he'd scared you- probably due to his rather beat up face, none of it having been treated most of the time, just so he could scar up and look tough on the outside.

It had worked- somewhat. Though his hybrid genes had made it rather difficult to hurt him enough to permanently scar- all of them eventually fading, needing to be remade, night after night.

The look of fear in your eyes had been something he got used to- or maybe he simply didn't notice it after a while, maybe it became normal to see you in a constant state of fight or flight. He never saw you rest, only saw you work- but when you were away from the Boss and only amongst yourself or him, you had a certain sense of lightness to yourself. Like a feather, as cliché as it sounds.

If it wasn't for your hybrid features, Jungkook would've sworn you were more of a bird than a deer- put in a cage, fear used against yourself to lock you in and to the Golden House forever. Just like he himself was shackled up, bought and owned by the highest man just so he could have some amusement watching the tiger hybrid fight in the ring.

He was a toy to him. Just like you. Just like any other hybrid at the Golden House.

Sometimes, when no one was paying much attention, you'd visit Jungkook in his room. You'd clean his wounds, and most of all- you'd talk to him like an equal. You'd tell him of dreams you had at night, of thoughts you'd come up with during your chores, or with fantasies you had about the world outside the walls of the estate. And he'd listen to all of it, quietly, your voice soothing his wounds more than any medication ever could.

Maybe your fear towards him didn't just become normal to him, so he didn't notice it. Maybe it disappeared, slowly, and that's why it left your gaze. You didn't fear him. Didn't see him as an enemy. And maybe that's what really changed.

It was winter when he found out about the consequences to your actions.

He'd spotted you outside in the snow, white flakes falling steadily onto your head and clothes, feet naked and red from the cold. It was punishment- for caring for him, doing something you weren't told to. You'd hidden it, kept it a secret so he probably wouldn't feel bad- but the true nature of it was more selfish than that. "I don't want you to stop talking to me." You'd said when he'd confronted you about it. "I don't want you to ignore me like everyone else does." You'd cried. He hadn't even spoken much to you at all, and yet the few words he'd gifted to you were more than you had ever received before.

And so he had to compromise, and instead tried harder not to get injured in the ring, so no one would notice when you'd help him heal.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

He knows that you saw the signs when his mind had started to slip. When his anger grew, and his sanity took a backseat inside his head.

Especially when the Head of the estate had decided it would be a delight to make you watch Jungkook fighting in the ring every time he had to as a way of trying to make you stop your foolish actions of helping the fighting hybrid- to show you how cruel and brutal the otherwise quiet and reserved tiger could really be, as he'd dislocate limbs and break bones night after night with a certain sense of bloodthirst in his gaze, eyes no longer kind but cold. How he'd bite and scratch with pure intent to hurt and end the fight in his favor, no matter the outcome for his opponent.

Jungkook knows that your view on him changed back then, even if you did not tell him that. He could feel it, in the way your hands would begin to tremble before touching him, or how you'd suddenly no longer reach out to him.

Gone was your attachment to him, murdered was any emotional connection you'd been creating.

At the end of the day, you had been nothing but a puppet to the head of the Golden House, nothing but a doll fed with orders because no matter what, you'd do it if it meant you'd survive another day. You would've probably even killed him if it had been asked of you- even though he wouldn't have let you.

You wouldn't have stood a chance against him.

The kiss you'd shared had been more than questionable, and he does feel bad about the circumstances back then.

He knew that it could've gotten you killed if anybody had ever caught you both, and he also knows that if it wasn't for his own initiative, you would've never made that step either. But he loved you, he loved you so much it hurt, and he hated being hurt because it was a constant for him he could never escape.

Everything he did, every situation he found himself in, every waking moment had been nothing but pain in one way or another. Nothing could soothe that ache in his body, could somehow make that burn in his bones feel a little lighter.

Nothing but your touch.

You cared. Even though he knew that you feared him, you still cared. And he hated it.

Why didn't you push him away, make him angry at you so he could have a solid reason to just get rid of you? The only reason he continued to endure wasn't so he could survive- he never gave a fuck about survival, none at all. But the heartbreak in your eyes, the fact that you'd be alone, the memory of you crying so bitterly about being ignored and put aside was continuously making him pull himself back up whenever knocked down, to win the fight and come back to the Golden House-

where you'd wait for him, soft hands on his skin relieving his rage just for a moment. Giving him a second to breathe. Where you'd kiss his wounds, and lift all the weight off of him for just a second.

And then you betrayed him.

"Thats a train ticket! I got it from Chun, she said it'll take you to busan." You'd told him, panic in your eyes as you'd pushed the slightly torn canvas bag filled with clothes and other necessities further into his arms. "After your fight tonight, there will be a dog hybrid named Min Yoongi in the locker room. He'll take you to the station.!" You said.

"And you?" He asks, dreading the answer he'd inevitably get.

"I'll be your insurance." You'd smiled.

"He'll take all his anger out on you-" He'd worried, and you'd nodded, and never looked so brave.

"I know." You'd told him. "But you'll live- and that's enough for me."

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"Flake has been replaced with Dohyun. The people aren't very happy with it, but he'll make them accept the change soon enough." Namjoon offers, setting some papers down in front of Jungkook, who looks like he might be asleep- face resting on his hand, arm perched up with his elbow on the armrest of his chair.

"Hm, they're never happy when a hybrid's on top." He mumbles lowly, eyes not opening. "I assume Flake didn't go… voluntarily." He asks.

"No." Namjoon responds. "Was executed on his balcony."

"Classy. I like it." Jungkook chuckles, eyes slowly opening as he takes in a deep breath. "Hm, I'm hungry-" He starts, looking at his watch on his wrist. "-let's hope Hideo doesn't piss me off tonight, or I might just have to swap him too." He growls, slowly getting up to prepare for the dinner he has to attend with the human gangleader.

Jungkook had the chance to get out. He's been given the chance after all, by the only person he's ever really considered he 'loved'- and yet his thirst for blood wouldn't let him go. The need for revenge was way too big inside him to be just satisfied with living his own life away from his past- but he couldn't.

They took everything he ever had away from him. They took you away from him. And he'd never forgive that.

So he began to convince Yoongi to join him in his plans, took the first few pillars out to make the fundamentals of the underground gang life crumble. He shook up the entire game, and began to 'swap out' human leaders with hybrids from his own rows- a gang he'd build up himself, consisting of almost exclusively hybrids of all kinds. He knows he's not doing any good with the way he's doing things- but he doesn't care.

If he can't change the game, he'll become the best player instead.

And currently, he's definitely on the road to take the seat as the king.

"Jungkook!" The rather eccentric man stands up, opens his arms for the hybrid who does not attempt to return the gesture or accept the invitation at all. "My favorite big cat, come take a seat!" He laughs it off, sits down with Jungkook, who keeps his face stoic and expressionless. "Can we have some chairs here please? I'd hate for your friends to stay standing while we eat-" He tries, but Jungkook shakes his head.

"No need. I'd rather have them pay at attention." Jungkook responds, and Hideo laughs in front of him.

"Always so on edge. Never change my boy!" He jokes, before the food is being placed on the table. "So. I heard you let Flake tumble down his balcony like a dramatic movie-climax." He chuckles, cutting into his steak. Jungkook nods, begins to eat as well, but keeps his eyes on the man in front of him. "Quite the spectacle. Made the higher up's a little nervous." He tells him.

"Good." Jungkook simply answers, and Hideo laughs.

Hideo is one of the only few human leaders left in his original spot- mainly because the man is rather interested in surviving, and keeping his head in one piece. He's smart, albeit a little bit unhinged- sometimes even causing Jungkook himself to feel uneasy around the man. He's a wildcard, and does what he wants whenever he wants, only follows rules if they're in his favor.

So Jungkook is wary of him, and doesn't trust that man as far as the bridge of his own nose.

"They say his minions aren't too happy with your new choice." The man mumbles, shrugging his shoulders however, clearly unbothered. "But they just don't like the change. What you should worry about however, is the money you're loosing." He says, making Jungkook's eyes sharpen.

"What money are you talking about?" He asks, finishing up his plate.

"The money you're not aware of." Hideo chuckles. "Flake had two daughters, and rumor has it they both emptied their bank accounts a few days before you struck and pushed Rapunzel down her tower." The man informs him, licking his knife while looking at Jungkook, who tries hard to make nothing visible on his face. He knows exactly what the man is trying to tell him.

Somehow, those daughters knew Jungkook would attack. Which in turns, means someone told them.

Which hints at a snitch.

"Sakata is currently finding them as we speak, so no worries about that." Hideo suggests, finishing his meal as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. "The only thing you should do, would be to.. sniff out who needs to go, so to speak." He says, grinning at Yoongi, who pins his ears back in irritation at the joke. Jungkook leans back, tilts his head once, before he stands up.

"I want to know the whereabouts of those two daughters the moment you have them." Jungkook says dryly. "Do not kill them. I want to.. talk to them personally." He orders, and Hideo laughs, nodding with his hands clapping once.

"Of course! Oh and-" The human man grins, and it tells Jungkook that the man has something to say that will definitely cause problems. "-I heard my dear Chisoo left you a present at your estate?" He says, catching Jungkook off guard for a second, as the tiger hybrid looks to his side towards Namjoon, who shares an equally confused gaze. "Oh, you've not seen it yet? Hm, it does explain his good mood, doesn't it?" Hideo asks one of his guards who doesn't react. "Ah, I really liked that guy. Don't be too harsh on the boy, yeah? He doesn't know how to.. read a room, you know? His jokes can be terrible." He laughs.

Jungkook slowly leaves, but as soon as he sits inside the back of his car, he's growling out orders. "Call Chisoo right now." He demands Namjoon, who already dials the number. "If he doesn't answer we'll pay him a visit right now." He says, waiting for the speaker system of his car to reveal the voice of the man.

"Jungkook! What's up my guy?" The young voice chimes out.

"Cut the shit. What did you do?" Jungkook demands, and Chisoo just laughs on the other end.

"Oh you've not seen it yet? I thought you'd like it!" He says, clearly eating. "Saw the poor thing and remembered something I heard from a former guard of the Golden House." He chuckles, and Jungkook's blood runs cold. "Look man, I have some urgent business right now. If you don't want it, you can just get rid of it- I won't judge." He laughs, before he hangs up the phone.

"Tell Seokjin to check the premises before we drive back." Yoongi informs him from the driver's seat, instructing Namjoon who calls the man right away.

"Seokjin." Jungkook says as the phone is picked up. "What the fuck did Chisoo bring?" He demands to know, and grows increasingly uneasy when the answer isn't what he hoped he'd get.

"I.. you should just not worry about it. It was probably meant to just anger you." He tells the tiger hybrid, not specifying things. "I've already dealt with.. it, just-"

"That's not your decision to make." Jungkook growls. "I'm on my way back right now, and I want whatever it is in my office before I'm back at the estate. Am I making myself clear?" He demands.

"..yes." Seokjin simply complies, though with great hesitation.

Because he knows, the moment Jungkook knows what it is, there will be nothing capable of calming Jungkook down.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

One, two, three.

You're counting each tick of the clock standing on the table in the office, waiting for something to happen. That's all you've been instructed to do- the man earlier having escorted you here, and just told you to 'wait', and nothing else. So you do just that, naked feet on the soft carpet, intricate details on the fabric almost hypnotizing you. It's already a lot warmer in here than in your room at the Golden House- and the man who brought you here had given you his jacket too, probably because he thought you were shaking from the cold.

Which you did- but you also tend to shiver from fear, mostly due to your hybrid instincts.

Just.. in here, you don't really feel scared. It smells familiar in here, like something you forgot existed- almost like a childhood memory, far away but reawakened right in this moment. It soothes your worries and slows down your thoughts tremendously.

ninety-four, ninety-five, ninety-six.

You can hear faint noises now, ears turning towards the door behind you, though your body otherwise doesn't move. you don't dare to, since the handcuffs around your wrists might make a noise, and no one told you if you were allowed to move anyways. So you just stay still, even when you can hear someone argue in front of the door, angrily, upset. The voice is familiar, again- but you don't recall a face to it whatsoever.

One hundred.

The door opens, people walk in. Your face stays lowered, you don't even dare to swallow the saliva in your mouth. "Why the fuck did he send me a hybrid?!" Someone growls, and it makes your throat clog up, angry tone causing your muscles to tremble once more. "Fuck. And why is she not-" He starts, before he stops right next to you, frozen in place almost like you are- though due to different reasons.

"Jungkook-" Someone sighs, when Jungkook next to you talks again, but in a truly bone-chilling tone.

It's so low, and steady, that it makes everyone wordlessly follow the command.

"Out." He says. "Everyone, out, right fucking now." He growls, and both Namjoon and Yoongi leave, though the dog hybrid hesitates a little- shocked as well by the sight of you, most likely.

Once the door closes, it quiets down. All you can really hear is the way the man called Jungkook walks around, paces for a good while, clearly in distress. You're not sure why you're causing him to be like this- maybe he doesn't know if he wants to kill you or not. Or he's fighting primal urges to hunt you down as a predator hybrid. It could be a lot of things.

You lost track of the ticking. You can't hear it properly with Jungkook moving around like that.

"Don't- stop doing that.!" He suddenly says, and you notice yourself panicking. What are you doing right now? You're not moving, you're not looking at him, and neither have you said anything- though that's out of the question anyways. What are you doing that you need to stop? You're barely even breathing- maybe that's it? It's an odd request, and you doubt you can properly follow it for long, but if he wants you to do that-

"Stop being scared!" He suddenly roars at you, hands on your shoulders making you whimper out of pure instinct, as you watch his chest rise and fall rapidly. "Don't-.. I'm not.." He stammers, before he takes a deep breath, seems to control himself as his hands leave your shoulders, instead push themselves into the pockets of his slacks. "Look at me." He demands, and you do just that.

His hair is fairly long, growing over his ears, curly and a deep black. There's two round tiger ears between his wild hair, one of them a little torn, but the scar seems long healed. His eyes are piercing, watching you intently as if he's searching for something with desperation, jawline sharp but his face has a certain roundness to it.

It doesn't distract you from the danger he radiates, tail swaying impatiently behind him. He's a tiger, in every way- large shoulders and powerful muscles unable to be hidden even underneath the suit he wears.

But there's a certain shift in his posture and most of all his gaze as he seems to realize something about you.

"Who am I." He asks, or more so orders you to answer. You begin to panic once more. How are you supposed to answer that? "Who. Am. I." He repeats slower, and you open your mouth to say something-

though no coherent word leaves your lips, only barely a noise that even sounds like it hurts, and it makes your eyes sting.

Jungkook seems to grow angry again. Is he upset that you can't answer? Will he kill you now, because you're unable to give him a proper response?

"Do-" He looks absolutely devastated, and for some reason, it makes you sad. "Do you know who I am?" he quietly asks, bracing himself for the answer he might receive.

Though nothing could prepare him for the pain he feels in his entire body when you quietly shake your head, confirming his worst fears.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

You've not only forgotten him- but everything else too, it seems like, according to Namjoon, who'd been trying to sort you out since Jungkook left you in his office, unable to really have you close like that any longer. His friend had tried it all, and had also let someone with medical knowledge have a look at you- which also gave an explanation about why you just won't talk.

You can't. It's not clear what exactly must've happened, but there's a definite injury there that won't let you make any sound without pain.

It's now pretty obvious to him that you must've gotten caught giving him a way out- and you probably paid the consequences for it too. Whatever happened caused you to forget most of your past, and no one can be sure if it's permanent, or just temporary. What is clear however is that you're completely hollow. There's no trace of a personality in anything you do, no personal preferences towards anything, no interest, not even very noticeable emotions.

It's not surprising to him- and maybe that's what pains him the most.

"So if you don't tell her what to do, she will just do nothing at all?" Jungkook asks as he looks through some documents to distract himself. The more he thinks about you, the darker the possible punishments that you most likely received become in his head- mind forcing scene after scene of you into his brain.

"Won't even sleep if no one tells her to. She was awake the whole night because no one told her when to sleep I guess." Namjoon says, arms crossed. "It's hard to tell what she's thinking considering she doesn't talk." Namjoon sighs defeated, while Jungkook stares at the papers for a moment.

You used to talk a lot, back when he was still used for underground fighting, and you were nothing but a maid for the gangleader. He remembers you humming random songs while dressing his wounds- something you told him was to mostly distract yourself from not crying in front of him.

"I'll fight better next time." He'd told you while you carefully placed the large plaster onto one of the scratches that's still bleeding. "So you won't have to cry."

"I want every bit of info as to where she came from before Chisoo got his hands on her." He tells Yoongi who's been sitting in the corner.

"I believe Chisoo bought her straight from the Golden House. Overheard him talk to one of the guests." Yoongi responds, and Jungkook nods.

"Good." He smirks, standing up, and bracing his hands on the table with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. "I've got some unfinished business with them anyways." He says. The Golden House was no longer a place of fear for him- because just like you, Jungkook isn't who he used to be.

"You're going to start a war over a hybrid friend you made years ago?" Namjoon worries. "Jungkook.." he sighs, but the Tiger hybrid doesn't back down.

Because you're not just a friend.

You were his Savior, the only soft thing he's ever had in his life.

"No. I'm not just starting a war-" Jungkook growls like the predator he is. "I'm getting my revenge."

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Yoongi watches over you like a guard dog, just like Jungkook had told him to.

You'd overheard the tall tiger hybrid give those instructions to Yoongi just before he left in his car, and now you're left standing in the hallway where someone last told you to wait. "Come. You need to eat." The dog hybrid mumbles, walking a step before he checks if you follow. You do.

Of course you do.

You'd jump out the fucking window if someone told you to do so.

Before you were taken in by the Golden House, you'd actually roamed the streets with the dog hybrid together. You'd slept in a storage unit his past owner had rented before he died, a small place of shelter you eventually shared with Yoongi before you met Yuan Shun, the past head of the Golden House. You'd been way too naive back then. Told Yoongi you'd finally found a home to go to, finally found work to pay him back all his kindness.

You didn't know what you'd get yourself into. Not before Shun had forced you to get the small tattoo on your wrist that would forever bind you to him no matter if he died or lived. Every member of the Golden House had to get it one way or another- there was no way around it.

It was burned into everyone's wrist, whether they wanted it or not.

And once you're in, there is no out.

"Jungkook won't harm you." Yoongi says as he pulls out a bowl of something prepared, before he puts it into the microwave to heat it up. "He's just.. he can be a bit.." the dog hybrid sighs, shaking his head a little, unsure how to phrase it properly. Jungkook has his own problems, and it's pretty obvious to everyone around him that he's not the sanest of people any longer. No one can blame him for cracking a few braincells after what's happened to him, that's true- but that doesn't mean that he's a monster.

He's just scarred by his past, and haunted by his potential future.

You want to ask Yoongi what your connection to the tiger hybrid is. You really do- but you also feel like it's none of your business. If anything, you're simply waiting for orders, for a job you'll be working as from now on, a task you'll be given in this new place. The dynamic of things here is confusing to you, how everyone seems to walk freely, no one ever standing in one place waiting to be needed. You even saw someone laughing in one of the hallways.

It's eerie. You don't like it here.

"Eat." Yoongi says, before he holds your wrist, one of his ears twitching in irritation when he notices it's the one with the fine lined burn mark of the Golden House. "- when it's cooled down a little, of course." He sighs, and you nod after a moment, staring at the bowl of pasta.

Waiting. Counting the ticking from the clock in the kitchen.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"I don't give a flying fuck-" Jungkook growls, knee connecting with the man's jaw once more before he pushes the chair back, gripping his face to force him to look at him. "-about your so-called loyalty." He finishes his sentence. "The only reason I'm not breaking your jaw yet is because I need you to be able to talk." He threatens, before he steps back, and wipes his hand on a tissue.

"I'm not talking. Daeho will-" He starts, when Jungkook slowly and carefully loads a black gun in his hand, pulling the magazine back to ready it in his hands.

"Daeho will what?" Jungkook almost sings. "Kill you?" He asks with feigned innocence in his tone, while he walks forward, and points the nuzzle of the gun straight at the man's kneecap. "How nice. But you see, I'm not Daeho." The tiger tells him, tilting his head a little.

"And I'm not nice."

A shot rings through the small room, followed by agonized screaming, and the gun reloading in Jungkook's hands. "Now, I'll try again. Why did Daeho sell her to Chisoo?" He asks, and the man takes a few deep breaths.

"He wanted to fuck with you." He grits out from between his teeth. "He knew it would piss you off. He technically wanted to send you a tape- you know what kind." He says, and Jungkook's blood boils up again. Of course he knows what kind of actions that sick man would have forced you to do, what exactly he'd make Jungkook watch. "But he thought-.." The man needs to catch himself a little. "He thought it'd make more sense to give her to you instead. Alive."

"Why?" Jungkook asks.

"Because you'd lose your fucking- whatever the fuck you're doing!" He groans. "You'd turn soft. Maybe even break at the sight of her all fucked up like she is now." He explains. "That's why he messed her up before you got her." he says, clearly sweating now from his body trying to keep up with the rapid bloodloss.

Jungkook is silent, before he unloads the gun, clicks the safety in place, and puts it back into it's holster on his belt, turning to leave the room. "Wait- wait, what about me-!"

"You can bleed out right here like the pig you are."

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Nothing will ever return to what it once was.

Mostly, because whatever was, isn't any better than what is now. The blood staining Jungkook's hands is still the same consistency as back in the fighting ring, it still washes down the drain the same way as it did before. There's nothing new to the way his knuckles hurt from the force of the punches he'd delivered to the man, and yet, there's a new sting in his chest that just won't leave.

Before you came here, he had at least a way of pacifying his worries about you. Before, he'd been able to just convince himself that you probably got yourself killed for him- that you'd been set free after all, finally escaping your cage once and for all.

The fact that you did not, and instead just went from one cage to the next, makes him nauseous. He doesn't even want to know what you had to endure throughout the years you'd been apart. Now you're just a shell- a plastic lifeless version of what you once were, nothing of your soul remaining inside of you. Could he even consider you 'you' any longer? Or were you now someone else?

Are you someone at all?

"Where is she?" Jungkook asks Seokjin, who'd brought him a plate of dinner into his office.

"She's eating with Yoongi downstairs in the kitchen." He tells his boss and friend, who's currently looking outside the window facing the balcony. "What do we do with her?"

I don't know, is what Jungkook's only answer can be. Because he surely doesn't- he's unsure if actually killing you would be a more generous thing to do than letting you simply waste away in the state that you're in right now. What you are, in this moment, can't be called 'alive'. There's nothing living behind those eyes, nothing but fear.

But he also knows that he'd never be able to put the gun to your head and shoot.

"Can I give a suggestion?" Jin asks after a moment of silence, and Jungkook turns his head, nodding. "What if you turn this whole 'joke' around?"

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks, body now moving as well to face his older friend.

"Right now, her presence is doing exactly what it's supposed to." The cat hybrid says. "She's making you lose focus, makes you act without thinking. That's what they want."

"I'm not killing her." Jungkook defends.

"I'm not asking you to." Seokjin says, walking closer. "But think about it. What about her is making you feel like this the most?" He urges.

The fear you have. The fact you forgot him. The terror in your eyes. The emptiness you represent.

"Jungkook, you told me once that back then, she was the only thing keeping you sane in that place." The man says, white ears twitching between his hair. "And she can become just that once again."

"Have you seen her?" Jungkook growls.

"Have you?" Jin challenges. "You're in a place of power here. You call the shots, this-" He gestures around. "-all of this is yours. You offer us protection, a home, a place to let our guard down for once. You're not who you were before. You turned your life around- and you can do it again, but this time, it'll be her's." He says, and suddenly, Jungkook understands what his friend is trying to tell him.

This is his place. His territory. He's in charge. He's in control.

Nothing will ever return to what it once was.

Because he'll be the change it needs to turn this twisted joke around.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"Remember, he's nothing to be scared of." Yoongi tells you, before he opens the door, and gently pushes you inside by your lower back- before he leaves you alone with the tiger hybrid in the room, no longer wearing his jacket, only dressed in a casually unbuttoned black shirt and slacks.

Even his gun is on the table. You could take it at any moment, shoot him, no problem. You know how to shoot a gun. Is he that stupid?

Probably not. There has to be a reason for his actions- you don't think he got to his position by being reckless.

He moves slowly, a lot more confident and most of all relaxed than when you last saw him- the person he is right in this moment a stark contrast to who he'd been when he first saw you. It makes you suspicious, unsure, because if he houses so many different versions of himself inside his body, how could you ever know who the real one is?

"The rules in this house, and under my hand, are simple." He says, voice surprisingly calm as he speaks. "Loyalty." He states, looks at you- and from the fact alone that he doesn't seem to mind, you guess that Yoongi was right when he said that you were allowed to do that. "As long as you don't betray me, I will offer you a safe place, and protection."

That doesn't make sense to you.

If that was true, that would mean that he'd just take in random people just because they don't snitch on him- what the hell would he even get out of that? Inside the Golden House, there were already rumors about him. That he's possessed by the drive to 'change the game' and put hybrids up on top, an odd way to live since apparently he'd escaped this entire circus years prior. Why would he willingly return to it?

Even worse, play the game he barely managed to get out of?

He sits down on the edge of his bed, and only now do you realize where exactly you might be right now. And it confuses you even more. He's letting you into his personal rooms?

Why?

"Come here." He says, and your legs move without any of your control. Like a puppet on a string you're pulled towards him, unable to really go against any orders told to you, like you're mind controlled. The moment you stand in front of him, he reaches out his hand- and you're torn by the possible choice given to you. But if he reaches out, you're supposed to take the hand, right?

Instead, you put your own in his, not making a decision at all.

Control is a scary thing. You don't want it.

He looks at your wrist as he turns your hand over, thumb running over the signature branding you have on your skin, burned in scar never fading. It's when you can spot something on the hand that holds yours, between all the ink and color he's placed underneath the skin. A scar, achingly similar to your own.

Your eyes find his- but he's not looking at you.

So he's from the same place as you once were. Is that why he smells so familiar? Did you forget him? Or did you never know him at all, and simply caught traces of him during your time at the Golden House?

Who is he?

"From now on, you're mine." He tells you, and you soak up that info like a sponge. "You belong here, and nowhere else." He says, and you nod to make sure he knows that you understand. There's a small moment where he simply looks at you, before he nods as well, and lets go of your hand. "Can you write?" He asks, and you eagerly nod, finally expecting a task from him. You'll be useful, you'll have something to do- you won't just have to stand around and wait for something that never happens. "Good. That gives me at least some way you can talk to me, I guess." He mumbles to himself as he gets up and walks past you, to dig around in a small drawer of a desk close by. "I want you to talk. If not with your voice-" He offers a small, palm sized notebook to you, a pen clipped to it's side. "-then with this."

You take the booklet with a nod, opening it to write something down. He expects a thank you- but that's not what he gets.

'What is my purpose here?' you've written, and he sighs to himself.

"Heal." He says, making you look at him confused. You're already starting to show a lot more emotions he notices, and it calms him down quite a bit, because that means that even though you may have forgotten him, you're at least slowly adapting to the overall environment you're now in. You move to write something again, before you hold out the booklet.

'There has to be a job for me.' you write, and he tilts his head at you, arms crossed, veins clear under his forearms, exposed since he'd rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

"And I just told you what it is." He responds, face expressionless, but eyes glimmering with something almost mischievous. "Your job is to heal, adjust, and adapt to the way I run things." He tells you. "But if you want a.. job, I can try and arrange something for you." He huffs, dissatisfied, but still caving in.

You show him the opened page again, something added to the bottom.

'Thank you' is written there.

He just nods, and knocks on his door to give Namjoon the sign to take you to your room so you can sleep- and leave him by himself for a moment, as he watches the calm night-sky from his window, world steadily moving on while he doesn't know what's to come for him.

Even if Seokjin is right, there is no guarantee that this whole thing won't just backfire horribly. And there's still the looming threat of someone amongst his people who's currently the biggest danger to the house of cards Jungkook had barely built up over the years until now. If that person just so much as pushes one more card, it might all come falling down-

and this time, he'll take you with him.

If he dies, you can't survive.

Because if you do, you'll probably face a fate he doesn't even want to imagine.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

[pedantic-poison]

golden | MS47

GIF by brawn-gp

pairing: black cat gf! fem reader x golden retriever bf! mick schumacher

warnings: fluff! and also a brief but very explicit mention of oral (f receiving) and p in v (oops lol)

requested: yes!

word count: 0.9k

author's note: second time posting this because the first time it didn't show up in the tags at all so thanks for that tumblr! anyways yes this IS so extremely inspired by the song daylight by taylor swift not that anyone asked but the second i read the request i couldn't help it

you'd met at a party, where you'd been standing quietly in a corner, drink in your hand, content to just mind your business without talking to anyone until you'd been there long enough that you wouldn't feel bad leaving

it was some friend's birthday, not close enough that you had to spend most of the night with them, but you like them enough to make an appearance, even though you hated parties

Mick, golden boy that he is, was the center of attention without really meaning to be

talking to everyone like they were an old friend he'd known for years, and at some point he looked up and realized that you were the only person in the room who he hadn't spoken to

he didn't even know your name, actually

and he couldn't help himself, he was just too curious, and he thought you were so gorgeous, he figured it was better to just go talk to you than to stare at you with heart eyes from across the room

Mick is such a sunshine boy that even when other people sometimes find you a little standoffish, when he first saw you, he just adored you right away

wasn't intimidated by you at all he was just completely enamored

initially, you were a little overwhelmed by him, kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop and show that it was an act

how sweet he was, how kind, how considerate, the way he would listen to you so intently, like the moment you opened your mouth to finally speak the rest of the world faded away

you just couldn't believe that he was being genuine, that he really cared about you that way

but the look on his face when he's watching you is so earnest

he didn't mind that at first you weren't very talkative, or that it took a little while for you to really trust that his affection for you was real

besides, he can talk enough for the both of you anyways

you finally had to confront just how much you cared about him because of the shit show with Haas

more than once Mick had to talk you down from personally fighting G*nter on his behalf

and once you finally let those walls down and let him in? Mick was stuck to you like glue

he'd come home, or back to your shared hotel room, after a long day during race weekends and just collapse onto you, laying his head on your chest while you'd scratch his head or his back

he fell asleep like that, on top of you, more than a few times

sometimes you weren't really sure what to do or say, but Mick would just assure you that you were making him feel better, that you were doing everything right, even when he was the one who needed comfort

and when you have a bad day at work or school?

that man pampers you like a princess

he literally will not let you do ANYTHING for yourself

and you don't even have to tell him that you had a rough day, he can just see it in your face the moment you walk through the door

he gives you these mini lectures about asking for help when you need it, reminding you that you help him when he has a tough time, and that it's only fair for him to get to return the favor

if you ever try to tell him that he's already so sweet to you, all the time, he won't hear it

just ushers you towards the couch or bed with your favorite blanket in hand

he'll have you lie back against his chest, nestled in between his legs, so he can wrap his arms around you and hold you to him, tight and comforting

whispering sweet nothings into your ear, planting kisses on the top of your head

bubble baths, your favorite foods and shows, holding your book in front of your face for you so your arms don't get tired, kissing the back of your neck or your shoulder each time he turns the page

supporting your body with his as he finger fucks you until you're shaking, caging you in with those big, buff arms and his warm body, your legs draped over his so he can keep them open for him, surrounding you and overwhelming all of your senses, so all you can feel or think of is him, his free hand roaming your body, massaging your tits and reaching up to cradle your throat so he can tilt your head back to give him better access

or making you ride his face so you can make yourself feel good, until you've cum so many times and so hard that you can barely see straight, and then fucking you into the mattress, deep and slow, whispering words of praise about how you're doing so well for him, how you feel so good, looking so pretty while you take his cock like a good girl

when you're overthinking and can't stop worrying about something, and his usual pampering tricks don't work, he'll just fuck you dumb, make you go mindless with pleasure so that you can't think period

he hates having to be away from you for race weekends, even now that he's with mercedes and isn't fighting for his life every weekend

even when you're both busy, he'll always manage to make time for you, dropping in and surprising you, even if it's only for a few days before he's off to the next track

he's also completely immune to any of your usual attempts at self-sabotage

he doesn't let you lash out at him or start fights or have huge blow out arguments

he just wants to give you the whole world

and you just want him

because his love isn't black and white, or burning red

it's golden

like daylight

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher smut #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x y/n #f1 #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula one smut #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fanfic #formula one #formula 1 #fluff #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher headcanon #mick schumacher blurb

[soullumii]

it's a risk but babe, i need the thrill | joel miller x f!reader

part 1, part 2

summary: everything finally comes to a head

warnings: 18+!!! smut! unprotected piv, gentle smut

tags: angst, reconciliation, fluff, pining, smut (but it's light compared to the other two parts), halloween vibes (i was supposed to finish this in october, oops)

word count: 5.8k

a/n: guys. i am SO SORRY for the wait. this was so hard for me to finish i almost gave up so many times. i'm still unhappy with this but i can't make myself work on it anymore so here u go. thank you all so much for your patience, i really appreciate it. special thank you to @joelsfaveouritegirl for your support... i probably would've never finished this if it weren't for you, so thank you. <3. and thanks to all of you who kept me accountable. i hope you enjoy this fucking mess. also, this is probably the last joel fic i'll write for a while. i'm sorry. still, i hope you like this.

______________________________________________________________

There are only two seasons in Jackson, Wyoming: winter and not winter.

Where other states might have a gradual shift from warm to cold, in Wyoming, it’s like a slap to the face, quite literally. The moment you step into the evening October air, it feels as if you’ve walked into a wall of cold. 

You shiver in your thick coat, and pull your scarf over your frosty nose as you meander down to the plaza.

While Jackson residents enjoy their time indoors and close to the fireplace during the colder months, they still love to celebrate outdoors, relying on their booze to keep them warm.

You don’t stop by Joel’s for a drink this time, he’s likely already in town square, dragged there by his daughter. Or… sort of daughter. He’s told you how he feels about Ellie, but the girl has her own opinions. Sure, she might deny that he’s like her dad, but she sure as hell treats him like he is. 

You’re meeting them there. 

The stars are already twinkling in the sky when you reach the throng of people. All of Jackson’s residents are in the plaza tonight for Halloween, dressed in homemade costumes and ones raided from the Party City in Idaho Falls. Jack-o-lanterns glow menacingly in corners and scarecrows are propped against brick walls. A few people in particularly frightening costumes prowl about, startling kids and adults alike.

Stalls line the edges of the plaza, each one providing something different. Tipsy Bison’s stall is run by Tommy, serving alcohol for the adults of the town. Seth’s stall is serving pork and brisket sandwiches. There’s a few stalls down the road advertising pumpkins and pastries, and you get a whiff of apple cider. Barrels of fire are scattered about to provide warmth. Lights are strung from the roofs of buildings, spread across the road, like clothes on a clothesline. 

It’s incredibly cozy, and already, you feel much warmer than you did walking out of your house. 

Within moments of passing Seth’s stall you hear Ellie’s voice ring out. 

“She's here!”

You can’t see her weaving through the crowd but you can see Joel trailing behind, his arm trapped in front of him. He politely excuses himself and apologizes to those he bumps into as his daughter drags him through a crowd of people. 

You can’t help but laugh, especially when you hear him say, “Jesus, kid, slow down.” 

And then she’s in front of you, smiling and bouncing excitedly on her heels, dressed as one of the superheroes from the comics she reads. Joel is behind her wearing a black blindfold with the eyes cut out, and a felt superhero crest is stitched to the front of his black sweater. He looks very adorable. Clearly, Ellie forced him to dress up. His gaze catches yours, full of something you can’t quite grasp, a small, embarrassed smile on his lips.

“Hi,” he says, voice soft.

“Hi,” you repeat.

It’s been… well… you’re not quite sure how to describe how it’s been since you told him to stop kissing you. 

It’s not like you guys have stopped seeing each other since then. Or that it’s been more awkward or anything. It just feels as if you’ve been depriving your body of what it needs, like you’re actively starving yourself. 

You’d feel full while he was fucking you, and yet there was a hole in your chest, gnawing at your thoughts, a hunger so deep rooted that it’s been taking you longer to come. 

Joel had noticed, too. Noticed your struggle and your frustration. He took it as something he was doing wrong, even though you insisted that wasn’t the case. Still, he took his time with you, trying to meet all your needs, and that, funnily enough, just made you feel worse. 

Your meetings have grown fewer. Sometimes you would go a couple weeks without seeing each other—at least like that.  Funny, how before you were so upset when he hadn’t been with you for a while. And now… now the distance is needed.

You still went out to dinner with him and Tommy and Maria. You still stopped by to say hi to Ellie and ask Joel how he’s been. Things have been normal, besides the overwhelming feeling of longing that strikes your breast the moment you see him. 

You worry that it shows on your face, especially because of the dreams you’ve been having, like some lovesick teenager. Dreams that don’t involve just having sex. Dreams that frame the two of you as lovers, as parents as… growing old together. 

Sometimes you’ll wake up crying, wondering if maybe you should just stop seeing him, talking to him, being around him all together. But then you’ll see him in town, or on patrols, and you know you’d never be able to stay away.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, and turn your attention to Ellie. 

“Hey kiddo!” You greet, plastering a smile on. She doesn’t seem to notice your being off. 

“You’re not dressed up,” she remarks, arms crossing over her chest. 

“Um. Yes I am,” you gesture to your black sweater and black pants. “I’m a black cat.” 

“You don’t even have ears or whiskers and a nose. That's a terrible costume.” 

Joel squeezes her shoulder with a frown. “Hey, quit.”

“No, she’s fine. She’s right,” you sigh. “This was super last minute.” 

“Cat is doing face painting down by the haunted house. You should let her paint some whiskers on you.” 

You take a glance at Joel and he shrugs. God he looks ridiculous in that costume. Your heart constricts. You might as well be as ridiculous as him. 

“That sounds great,” you say. Ellie looks like she’s about to drag you there when Dina comes running around the corner, practically slamming into her. 

“Hey!” Ellie laughs, “Slow down.” 

“You have to come with me. We’re going to do the haunted house, Jesse is already waiting for us. Come on,” Dina says, and pulls Ellie away before you and Joel can say a thing. 

The two of you stand there for a moment, watching the kids with fond smiles before finally looking at each other. 

His gaze seems to soften impossibly more when it lands on you.

“Your costume is kinda lame,” he says after a moment. 

“Oh shut up.”

**

The paintbrush glides smoothly over your skin as Cat paints the tip of your nose black and whiskers on your cheeks. You keep sneaking glances at Joel who waits patiently for your face painting session to finish.

Once you’re done you stride over to him, grinning.

“Well?” You prompt, turning around and showing off your newly improved costume. “Not so lame anymore, huh?”

He chuckles, eyes roaming your figure. Heat simmers low in your belly at the glint in his dark eyes. “Much better.”

He pauses, eyes catching on your face. “Hey, wait.” He grabs your hand and pulls you in close. He’s warm, a nice contrast to the cool October air. You want to just snuggle up to him, wriggle your fingers up under his sweater to share his warmth.

“You got a little somethin’…” he trails off, hand coming up to press his thumb to your skin. He gently wipes off a stray black smudge from beneath your eye. It takes no less than five seconds, yet it feels like an eternity. Your chest presses into his, his hand is warm as it cups your cheek. His breath puffs against your lips, an almost kiss. And his eyes, focused so dearly on the smudge, slowly drift up to lock with yours. 

“Perfect,” he mumbles, gaze never straying from yours. His hand never leaves your cheek, his thumb brushing carefully below your eye once more, a soft, subconscious caress now.

“Thanks,” you breathe.

Time feels like it’s stopped. 

A kid rushes by with a delighted scream as another kid in a costume chases after him. You and Joel jolt apart, snapped back into motion.

He clears his throat and you swallow hard.

“You want somethin’ to drink?” he asks.

“Yes, please.”

***

Tommy is beaming with his own little flush of alcohol when you and Joel come across his stall.

Maria hangs by his side, but her eyes follow every action happening around you. Ever the diligent leader.

“Howdy,” Tommy says, and Maria takes the time to glance over at the two of you with a welcoming smile.

“Hey,” Joel says, and you nod your head in greeting.

“You guys lookin’ for a drink?” Tommy asks. “We’ve got spiked apple cider.”

You bounce excitedly on your toes at that. Joel laughs lightly at the way your expression brightens. “We’ll take two.”

“Comin’ right up.”

“You’ve done a great job planning for this, Maria. Everything looks amazing,” you say.

She turns to you, and to your surprise, she looks a bit bashful. “Thanks. Everyone on the council helped a lot. I’m glad we can provide something fun like this.”

“The kids really need it.”

“I think the adults do, too. It’s nice to be able to scream without it being true fear.”

“Amen to that,” Tommy pipes up and sets two mugs of steaming spiked apple cider down. 

“Thanks, Tommy,” Joel says, and hands you a mug.

“There’s a haunted house down the road, you guys should go check it out. Laney and Paul spent a long time on it,” Maria says.

“We will, thanks. See you guys around!”

You wave goodbye to them and make your way through the plaza. Joel’s hand finds the small of your back, warm and steady. You’re glad for it, as scarers prowl along the streets, jumping out randomly and thrusting their hands in your face.

The haunted house lingers at the edge of the road like a ghost. Party City decorations blot the yard: gravestones, plastic skeletons, witches with rotted cloaks. It’s like everything they could manage to carry was dumped here. 

A line curves outside the door, kids bouncing on their feet as they await their turns. You feel a little ridiculous joining them, being your age, but Joel probably feels even more ridiculous so you push the thought from your mind.

“I’m actually kind of nervous,” you tell him as screams ring out from within the house.

“This thing ain’t nearly as terrifyin’ as the real world,” Joel says.

“Yeah, but still. I’ve never been a fan of being scared.” 

Joel takes a sip of his spiked apple cider and shrugs. “I’ll protect ya.”

“My hero,” you coo and run your hand over the superhero crest stitched to his chest. He smiles. 

Soon enough you’re at the door. 

“You go first,” you tell Joel, and shove him in front of you, but you don’t let go of him.

"Good to know you're not afraid to throw me to the wolves."

"Your sacrifice will not be in vain."

He rolls his eyes but lets you fist one of your hands in his sweater and hold onto his arm with the other. You peer around him as the two of you venture inside. 

A radio plays spooky sounds from all directions as you trail behind Joel through the house. Your eyes flit across every crevice, searching for who is going to scare you. Still, you don’t notice everything.

From seemingly nowhere, someone pops out in a Michael Meyers mask with a fake knife. You screech and hold tight to Joel. He hardly even flinches.

“How are you so chill?” you ask with a pout once you’ve recovered. Red lights flash in the hallway. Your voice is shaking. God, you’re a wimp.

“Because I’ve got someone I need to protect. I can’t act all scared, now, can I?”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s just making shit up. He’s not scared at all.

You get closer and closer to him as the house progresses. Your hands are now interlinked, your cheek pressed against the warm muscle of his shoulder blades. You’re practically on top of him, trying to stay as close as possible. 

Even with Joel acting so nonchalant, you’re scared. You get jump scared a few more times as you continue, thankful that your hands are preoccupied with holding onto Joel else you might’ve punched one of the scarers.

Eventually you make it to the end in one piece, your heart racing. You know it’s ridiculous—Ellie probably got through this with a straight face. Still, it’s kind of fun, being scared. You’re giggling into Joel’s sweater by the end of it, and he’s tucked you into his side, hand still interlocked with yours as you meander back to the plaza.

Warmth blossoms in your chest. Is this what it would be like if you were truly together? You feel the urge to push up on your toes to kiss him, but you shove it down. Guilt tugs at the back of your mind at the thought. 

“You’re such a scaredy cat, I guess that costume is fittin’,” he muses, rubbing warmth into your waist.

“Sorry we can’t all be macho men like you."

You go to pull away, to create some distance. You can’t keep getting close to him like this. It weighs too heavily on your heart. But Joel squeezes your hand and tugs you back into his side, and you’re so very weak. You melt into him despite yourself.

“I think you rather like my macho-ness,” he says.

Heat pools in your belly at the smirk on his face, the darkness in his eyes. You avert your gaze with a small smile, warmth coloring your cheeks. “Yeah right.”

He turns toward you, towering over you. His hand splays heavily on your hip, and you shudder. “Playin’ coy now, huh? Where was this yesterday when—“

“Joel!” Ellie screeches, skidding to a stop in front of the two of you. You feel the urge to jerk away, but Joel only shifts so that he’s no longer in your face. He still keeps you close. 

“What’s up kiddo?” 

“There’s a campfire, everyone’s asking us to play a song.” 

That piques your interest. Joel has played guitar for you a couple times, though he’s always very shy about it. You’ve stumbled across him playing on his own with no one to watch. It’s fascinating what the music does to him.

It’s like he’s transported somewhere else, his eyes closed as his fingers pluck the strings of his guitar, his foot tapping to the beat, his head nodding along as his hands tell a story through the notes. 

You’ve never seen him play a whole song like that, he’s always noticed you before he could ever finish. And when you’d ask him to keep playing, there was a bit of stiltedness. You realized it was nervousness… he wanted you to be impressed, to like what he was doing. 

You’re not sure how you ever could dislike his playing. 

“You should do it,” you say. 

Joel’s hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. “I dunno—“

“What, you’re not scared, are you?” you tease.

“Don't talk to me about being scared. Pretty sure you stretched out my sweater with how hard you were holding onto me,” he counters. 

“Will you two stop bickering like a married couple? Joel, they’re waiting. Come on!” Ellie says and grabs his hand, tugging him along. You laugh as you follow, though her little comment sticks in your mind. 

***

Joel settles down on a log with his guitar in his lap. Ellie sits at his side. You got a spot a couple logs away, so you could get a good view of them. The campfire lights his silver hair copper, reflecting like stars off the wood of his guitar. 

“Any fans of Bread here?” he asks, and a few hoots and hollers sound out. Joel laughs at that, and Ellie rolls her eyes. You've never heard of the band, but you wait with bated breath. They tune their guitars, and then Joel takes a deep breath and counts down. 

One, two, three, four…

Soft strumming fills the air. Ellie keeps the main melody, but Joel plucks more of the details. He sings first.

Baby I’m-a want you

Baby I’m-a need you

You’re the only one I care enough to hurt about

His voice is smooth, a bit shaky from the nerves, but it washes over you like a warm wave of water. Immediately, you’re drawn in. It’s unrealistic, but you still think that Joel could save the world with his voice. It’s scratchy but soft, if one can be both of those things at the same time.

He looks up through his lashes, his gaze catching yours.

Maybe I’m-a crazy, but I just can’t live without

your lovin’ and affection… givin’ me direction

Like a guiding light to help me through my darkest hours

Lately I’m-a prayin’ that you’ll always be-a stayin’

Beside me…

Your breath catches in your throat while he sings.

It’s just a song, you tell yourself. But the way he’s looking at you… it’s as if everyone else has disappeared. As if the words were created specifically for you. As if… as if maybe he chose this song for a reason…

Ellie picks up the prechorus with her angelic voice, and you’re brought back into the present. But then Joel starts the solo, his eyelids fluttering shut as the music takes over him. His head nods along to notes as he plucks each one out with precision and skill. His foot taps in time with the beat, and people cheer, but you can’t stop staring. 

The solo ends all too soon, but Joel’s voice merges beautifully with Ellie’s harmonies back on the prechorus once more. 

Lately I’m-a prayin’ that you’ll always be a stayin’

Beside me…

Used to be my life was just emotions passin’ by. 

Then you came along and made me laugh and made me cry

He gives you a small grin, secret, for no one else but you.

You taught me why…

Baby I’m-a want you. 

Baby I’m-a need you. 

Oh, it took so long to find you baby

Baby I’m-a want you.

Baby I’m-a need you.

Your chest constricts at the sight of him, at the sound of the last few notes being plucked expertly by his fingers. At the blend of his voice with Ellie’s. You can't bear to sit here at this campfire, watching him only as a friend, a fellow neighbor, just like everyone else. You want him to sing this song for you. To know that it’s only you he’s thinking of as the last few strings are plucked by his nimble fingers, ringing out into the dark, cold night. That it’s only you he sees clapping and cheering him on. But you can’t even grant him that, already on your feet the moment the song ends, practically sprinting away from the campfire as your throat grows tight and tears spring to your eyes.

You hope no one has noticed. You hope the footsteps you can hear crunching on crimson leaves are just someone walking past. Of course they’re not though.

“Are you okay?” the familiar timbre of Joel’s voice asks.

God, no! Why! 

You frantically wipe the tears from your eyes, sniffling snot so it doesn’t drip down your lip and betray you. 

“Oh,” you start, and internally curse the way your voice shakes. You turn toward the one who has been unraveling you at the seams with a trembling smile. “Hi, Joel.”

“Christ, what’s wrong, baby?”

“Don’t—don’t call me baby,” you say, and it’s not at all what you mean to say. You mean to just reassure, to just brush this off and bury it deep inside and never let it out. But you don’t. 

Joel’s face hardens, and he steps in closer with a hand stretched out but at the look on your face, thinks better of touching you.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he says. “Why are you crying? What happened?”

Nothing. It was just a pretty song.

Was it for me?

Nothing. I’m just being hormonal.

Do those lyrics mean something to you?

Nothing. 

Enough. Enough with the excuses and the rules and the lies. 

“You happened,” you spit. 

He takes a surprised step back. “What?”

“You and your stupid fucking—your stupid fucking friends with benefits and your stupid fucking big heart and your stupid fucking guitar happened, Joel.”

This is probably the first time you’ve ever rendered Joel speechless outside of sex. He looks so stupid standing there staring at you with his wide eyes and his dropped jaw. And yet all you want to do his pull him in and hug him and tell him how much you love his stupid fucking face. Instead, you take a step back. 

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” he mutters. “You’re freezin’. Let’s head back to my place, we can talk about it there—“

“No. No. I won’t let you just fuck me and then pretend like whatever’s between us doesn’t exist.”

“That’s not—“ he starts, but then must register what you said because his brows furrow over his ice cold gaze. “Me? I pretend like it doesn’t exist?” 

“Yes!”

“No I don’t. You’re the one that told me you didn’t want me to kiss you anymore. You’re the one that’s been keepin’ me at arm's length all this time. You’re the one pretending.”

You go to yell back at him, to deny, but the realization that he’s right kills the words in your throat, and you fall silent. 

Joel steps closer, his voice dropping. “You can act like I’m the one that’s been torturing you as much as you like, but it just ain’t true.” 

His eyes flit across your face wildly, taking in the tears in your eyes, the tremble of your lips, the tint of your cheeks from the cold. He softens.

“Darlin' I... I have been in love with you since the first time I heard you laugh. Since the first time you even glanced my way. Every god damn day is torture wanting all of you when all I can have is some of you.”

You can’t speak, can hardly even breathe. 

“If you don’t want to make this anythin’ other than sex, just tell me,” he whispers, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw. His breath condenses into steam in the cold air. “Tell me you want to keep pretending, and we can keep pretending."

“I…I don’t.” You shake your head. “I don’t want to keep pretending.”

His nose brushes yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Tell me you don’t want more.”

You swallow harshly. “I want more.” 

“Tell me you’re sorry you made me stop kissing you.”

“Please, kiss me, Joel.”

“You’re not very good at followin’ directions, are you?” he says, grinning, and you can’t help but laugh into the kiss when he pulls you in.

His lips are soft, deliberate when they meet yours. He coaxes you open, makes you slow down, pulls you into it so you feel it entirely. Reminds you of what you were missing when you forbade him from kissing you. 

God, you missed it so much. Missed him. 

Joel’s arms wind around your waist, his hands sliding along the fabric of your coat, and it’s so cold but god you wish you had less layers on right now. You’re sure the warmth of his hands could keep you from hypothermia. 

“I’m sorry I forbade you from kissing me,” you say. 

He hums, “I guess I can forgive you. Might need some convincing.”

“Oh shut up,” you grin, and pull him back in again. 

“I hate pretending like I don’t love you,” he murmurs against your lips, hands gripping your waist.

“You… really love me?”

“Did you not hear my speech earlier?” 

“I did. I just… can’t really believe it.”

He pulls you in close and gently grasps your jaw with his large hands. He kisses you again, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. 

His lips find the corner of your mouth. “I love you,” he says. 

A kiss to your cheek. “I love you.”

A kiss to your eyelid. “I love you.” 

When he pulls back, he’s smiling again. It’s strange to see Joel smile. He really doesn’t do it often around anyone. But you guess you’re an exception.

All that time you had spent pushing him away, agonizing over how much you loved him, fearing that he’d leave you if you so much had hinted that you were in love with him, only for him to be in love with you all this time? Holy shit. The world feels like it’s turned upside down. 

“Okay, I think I believe you now,” you say in a laugh. 

“You haven’t said it back, which I guess is alright—“

“I love you too, Joel,” you interrupt. 

He softens again. “I love you,” he murmurs, and pulls you in again for another toe curling kiss. God, you were an idiot for making him stop.

He wipes the tears from your eyes with a calloused thumb. “Your face paint is smudgin’.” 

“It was a stupid costume anyway.”

“No, it's cute. But…” Joel glances about, lips quirking in a smirk. He leans down, and his voice is so low you almost don’t hear it. “I think it would look better on my floor.”

“Well…” you fight the grin on your face, delighting in the heat curling low within you. “I guess since you love me and we’re kissing again and aren’t exactly friends anymore… we could really put that statement to the test.” 

“I think we should,” he says, and leans down to kiss your neck. 

You hum in approval. “What about Ellie?”

“She had plans to go to Dina’s after the festival,” he says, between kisses. “Come over, please? Or do I need to send you a letter with a wax stamp and everythin’?”

“Well… since you said please, I guess that will do.”

The whole walk to his place he has his arm slung about your waist, proudly displaying that you’re his. 

You nuzzle yourself into his side, grateful for his warmth and companionship. Your heart feels so full, so light, as if you might actually drift up into the air. Thank god Joel is holding you to keep you grounded. 

You smile at Maria and Tommy when you pass by them, and they exchange a look that says something like Finally. 

Then you’re at his house, and he’s unlocking the door and letting you go in first. And this time when you’re welcomed inside, you’re no longer worrying about rules or how you feel, or how you might fuck this up. It’s so fucking freeing. 

Joel doesn’t ravish you the moment the door closes. Instead, he kind of just stares at you. 

You squirm under his attention, growing self conscious. “What?”

He smiles, hands gravitating to your hips. “Nothin’. I just love you.” 

You grin. “I love you too.” 

He kisses you again, and you don’t think you could ever get enough of it. You kisses you roughly against the door, hips colliding with yours, over and over, and soon enough you’re shaking with want. Mind muddled, whispering a single word into his ear, “Bedroom.” 

It feels different here this time. All those times in the past had felt restrained, now, everything feels exactly as it should. 

When before you used to strip down quickly just to get him inside you, this time, you both take your time. He carefully unwraps you like a present as he noses kisses down your throat. He peels your thick black sweater off, and slides the straps of your bra down your shoulders, his dark eyes locked with yours. Joel reaches behind you and undoes the clasp with ease. You can hardly hold back your shaky sigh. 

Your hands smooth over his sweater-clad chest before pulling it up and over his head. That jagged scar is there on his stomach, a reminder of everything he’s been through. You run your hand along it, and he shudders. 

“Sit down,” he says. 

You sit on the edge of the bed, and he kneels before you. Then, he grabs your boot-clad foot and sets it on his thigh. He undoes the laces and carefully takes the boot off. He does the other, and then hooks his fingers around your waistband and pulls it and your panties off together. 

“I was right,” he says. “It really does look better on my floor.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, and pull him back into you. His lips catch yours gently, but the kiss intensifies when your mouth parts eagerly as his tongue swipes across the seam of your lips. His tongue slips in, and a moan tumbles out of you as your hands scrabble at his shoulder blades, your nails lightly scratching over thin scars.

His nose squishes against your cheek, and his large, hot hands slide up and down your body, like he just can’t keep them still. Like he wants to catalog all of you right now, remember it forever. 

He rocks against you, still confined in his jeans, but you can feel the hard shape of him brushing against your sensitive core, the friction incredibly delicious. Your hands find his button and zipper, undoing them both with as much concentration as you can muster, though it’s really difficult when he’s kissing you like you contain all of the world’s oxygen. 

Finally, he allows you to breathe, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin of your throat as he mouths hot kisses down your skin. He grips one of your thighs, setting it against his hip, large, rough fingers splaying across the whole of it. God, you love how easily you fit in his palms.

He grinds his hips into you over and over and you moan, aching for the feel of him inside you. You tug at his waistband again. “Joel, please take these off already.” 

“Not yet,” he says, and releases your leg, his hand skating across the skin of your thigh, brushing gently along, making you shudder in his hold. You can feel the warmth of his fingers as he nears where you want him most. 

And then, his fingers are on you, swirling in gentle circles, unraveling you at the seams. Your head hits the mattress and your back arches. He knows exactly what to do to make you putty in his hands, has had so much time to practice. But this time, it feels so much better, knowing now that he loves you. That you’re more than just friends. 

Your palms find his face and you pull him in for a slow, meaningful kiss, trying to tell him just how thankful you are for him. How glad you are that he loves you. How sorry you are for not letting him kiss you. It’s kind of hard to kiss him, though, when he’s making you feel this good. Your fingers curl into his hair, tugging at it, and he moans into your mouth. 

He slips one, two fingers inside you, pumping them at a steady pace that has your hands gripping his hair tightly and your hips scrabbling for that pleasant release dangling in front of you. He urges you on with encouraging, quiet words, his dark eyes boring into yours. Your mind, body, and soul feel hot.

When his thumb finds your clit it’s only moments until you’re shattering against him, warmth flooding your body. Your hips jerk, your legs shaking as he takes you over the edge. 

“Pants off. Now,” you huff between breaths, and he finally listens. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Then, he shifts you up the bed… it reminds you of the first time the two of you had sex again after he was so busy. So much the same yet so different. His hand moves up your body, cups one of your breasts, kneading it gently. When his thumb ghosts over your nipple, you shiver. 

“You’re so beautiful, darlin’,” he murmurs, and grasps your knee, pulling it over his hip. 

And then he’s sliding in, and the stretch is blissful, so welcome, so familiar and yet so new. You hold onto him, keeping him close as he begins to move. You feel full, mind faraway with bliss.

“God, Joel-“ you hiss. 

He groans out your name, and it rumbles through you like rolling thunder. Lightning lights a fuse at the end of your spine. 

You’re out of control. He tends to do that to you. Make you angry, make you sad, draw all the emotions you tend to not want to deal with out of you. Frustrates you, makes you so hungry with want that you throw all semblance of rational thought away. And he likes it. You like it. 

God, you love him so much. 

You move together as one, pushing and pulling. Everything shrinks down to just this. Him. You. Where your bodies meet. 

“More,” you moan, and he huffs out a laugh, but obliges, thrusting into you deeper, harder, and you’re as tight as a bowstring. 

Every anxious thought, every worry, every single doubt dissipates with every movement of his hips. You shift your own to meet his thrusts, and soon he’s gasping into your skin, growling your name. His hand winds into your hair, and he breathes with you, eyes locked with yours. 

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs. “Come for me.” 

Well, who are you to deny him? He pushes you over the edge in an instant, your body going taught, eyes rolling back into your head. His name flows out of you like a mantra.

Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel. 

“I love you,” he says into your throat when he follows you, hips jerking with sloppy thrusts as he comes inside you. 

Joel collapses next to you, pulling you into him, his arm slung heavily across your waist. When you can finally catch your breath, you say, “I love you, too.”

His grin is sated, eyes heavy when he pulls you in for another deep kiss. “We’ve said that a lot, huh?”

“Just making up for lost time. I think it’s alright.” 

“I should’ve said it a lot sooner,” he says, calloused fingers brushing against your cheek as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“Me too. Telling you not to kiss me was really dumb.” 

“Probably not the smartest thing you’ve said.” 

You scoff in mock offense, pushing at his shoulder. “Asshole.” 

“Yeah, but you love me.”

You roll your eyes, but scoot further into him, laying your head on his chest. 

It might have been a risk to fall in love with your best friend, but God, you’re glad you did. 

“Yeah, I really do.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #game joel miller #hbo joel miller #this is trouble

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: Y'ALL the way my jaw literally DROPPED when not even H A L F a minute after I posted the first part, you guys were already exploding my notifs which I wasn't expecting AT ALL I swear Oscar Isaac's really got us sluts in a chokehold O_o

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!! 😭❤️❤️❤️ This is truly wonderful and encourages me a lot, especially since this is my first ever Moon Knight fic AND the first time a story of mine blew up this much! This is also great cuz I've been terribly sick, but of course ✨️priorities✨️ I gotta shower our Moon Boys with some much deserved lovin' and it's just so fucking nice to see that it's paying off! \(^o^)/ I was so happy and inspired that I couldn't resist and just HAD to write this second part ASAP!

Dissociative identity disorder is also briefly mentioned here and if I made any mistakes, then I apologize and please kindly correct me. And I feel like the ending may be a bit rushed, but it's the best my tiny brain could think of!

I'll shut up now and I'm very proud and excited to present... PART 2!!! 🥳 And if you'd like to be tagged for any of the next parts, feel free to tell me!

Also Marc does something very asshole-y here oop

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland

Part 2: You made me feel I've nothing to hide

After work, instead of heading home, you rushed straight to the nearest boutique to buy yourself a new dress for tomorrow night. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults and you felt as if you could spontaneously burst into song like in those cheesy musicals your former college roommate was so obsessed with.

You knew the employees were all looking at you oddly as you constantly giggled to yourself like some lovesick schoolgirl while you perused through endless racks of the latest fashion. Of course you knew you were acting ridiculous--crazy--but wasn't that what attraction or, dare you say, love did to you?

Besides, you wanted tomorrow to go perfectly. In your eyes, Steven Grant was already perfect--perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, you didn't know or care which was which. You just knew that you liked him. A lot.

And it relieved and pleased you to the moon and back that he actually felt the same! So, who cares what anyone else thought?

You just hoped that after tomorrow, Steven would like you enough to go on another date. And another. Then another...

Maybe you were looking--wishing--too far into the future, but you swore you could almost hear wedding bells chiming in the distance.

God, is this what happens after being a total virgin for twenty-something years? There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but your insecurity bugged you. What if you weren't at all what Steven expected?

But another part of you, a positive ray of sunshine, clobbered all your doubts. For once, you were going to be brave! You were going to take a leap of faith! You were going to control your life!

Because, in the end...it was worth it. Steven was worth it. Sure, you've experienced various crushes throughout your life, but not like this. Not with Steven. This felt more...serious. Adult.

It felt as if right from the get-go crossing fates with "Steven with a V", your life was about to change--for the better.

Of course you were afraid, and yet you've also never been more sure of something in your entire existence. You've been waiting this long and you're glad you did, and now you were ready to jump head first (and head over heels) into whatever adventure was in store for you--with Steven.

You then squealed excitedly when you spotted the perfect dress, ignoring the judgmental stares other customers shot you as you hurriedly grabbed it like a child in a toy store.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be a dream come true.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes early. It was totally embarrassing how eager you were, but you couldn't help yourself. Though at least with how early you were, you snagged a good table overlooking the restaurant's beautiful back garden strung with fairy lights and you can have some time to calm down before Steven came.

And you looked stunning. Your hair tumbled down in elegant waves, light makeup adoring your face and donning the contact lenses you rarely used. And the dress you bought fit like a glove; it was the shortest dress you now owned, stopping around your thighs. It was baby blue and had an off-the-shoulder style with some frills, and it hugged your figure just right.

You felt very self-conscious. You've always fancied clothes like this, but never actually had the guts to wear them--until now. Did it really suit you? But you couldn't deny that you were happy and, truly, isn't that all that mattered?

"Shall I get you started, ma'am?" A waitress snapped you back to reality and you shook your head.

"Not yet, thank you. I'm still waiting for my...date." The word made you blush furiously, as if sharing a dirty little secret.

The waitress smiled and nodded, leaving you by yourself once more as you sighed wistfully.

You took out your phone from your purse, checking the time. 6:45 p.m. Alright, not too long now. And you double checked that the address you texted Steven was correct, which it is.

You settled back in your chair, peering over the garden and giggling softly.

"I'm right here for you, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

"It's about time, innit?" Steven murmured, glancing over anxiously at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. It was already eight p.m., a whole hour past your meeting time (not to mention he arrived embarrassingly early). And he was just informed by one of the servers that the restaurant was closing in thirty minutes, to which a pitiful look was also casted to him.

"It's not 'about time', Steven. It's late." Marc gruffly pointed out, Steven seeing Marc's reflection glaring back at him from the shiny silver flower vase set in the middle of the table. "Face it: she's NOT coming."

"Don't you dare say that." Steven's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a certain edge to it that one would normally not hear from the soft man. "Y/N would never do that. Not her. She's just running late, I'm sure. Traffic and all."

"Oh, please, we both know that even the traffic here doesn't take this long." Marc scoffed. "Stop kidding yourself, Steven. She's. NOT. Coming."

Steven frowned, and with a shaky hand he pulled out his phone. He should've called you since way earlier. It was the logical thing to do, after all. But he was...scared. Scared that, maybe, a terrifying maybe, Marc was right.

He found your number and called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it began to ring. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until you finally picked up, voice groggy.

"Hello..?"

"Y/N..." Steven heaved a relieved exhale. "Hey, uh, I'm at the restaurant. Guess you got stuck in traffic?" He chuckled halfheartedly.

A long, dreadful pause. And then:

"Fucking EXCUSE me?"

Steven's eyes widened, having never heard you swear before. He was just about to ask what was wrong when you continued without skipping a beat.

"Are you playing with me, Steven? Is this what it is?!" You definitely sounded angry, but he didn't miss the faint sniffles coming from you. Shit, were you crying? What the hell was happening?

"How can you be such a...such a DICK?!" You shouted, causing him to jerk his phone a few inches away from his ear. "I fucking waited for you like a total idiot until closing time, you prick! You never showed and you never answered my calls! What the fuck can you POSSIBLY gain from toying with me, huh?!"

"W-Wait, I don't understand!" Steven was nearly hyperventilating, all the colour draining from his face and his mind running a mile a minute. "I-I'm here! Right now! D-Didn't we agree? Friday night, seven p.m.?"

You were dead silent. Steven was going to check if the call was still connected when you beat him to it.

"Steven... It's Sunday."

Steven froze. Then his eyes landed on Marc's reflection, refusing to meet his gaze and it clicked.

"Y/N." Steven said slowly, steadily, despite feeling like crying himself. His eyes were still on Marc, cold and pissed. "Please. I promise I have an explanation. I just... God, can we meet? Y/N, please, I'll come to you."

"No need." Tears threatened to spill from Steven's despondent eyes at your flat response, before you suddenly added: "I'll come to you. You said you were at the restaurant, right? Stay there."

You ended the call, and Steven flared at Marc--no longer caring if other people perceived him as a lunatic fighting with himself.

"Why the fuck would you do that, Marc?"

"Steven..." Marc struggled to find the right words, and the asshole actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "Listen, she's nothing but a distraction--"

"You always think you know better, yeah?" Steven laughed humourlessly. "A distraction? YOU stop kidding yourself, Marc. This is not just your life, but mine. And it's about fucking time you stop being such a selfish bastard!"

"Um, sir?" Steven winced, greeted by a baffled waiter. "We'll be closing soon, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you're not ordering anything."

Humiliated and repeatedly babbling apologies, Steven abruptly sprang out of his chair and dashed outside. He sighed deeply and collapsed listlessly on the ground, finally allowing the tears to fall.

He vaguely heard footsteps approaching until he saw a pair of worn bunny slippers in front of him. His eyes heavily dragged upwards, finding you staring back at him with an unreadable expression and breaths coming out in ragged pants.

"Y/N!" Steven jumped up, surprised you actually came despite the way he--the way Marc--treated you. Your bloodshot eyes and the dried tears on your cheeks only made him feel even shittier, much more fucked up than any beating he suffers on a mission.

Because at least with those, he can be confident that he and the boys would win no matter the challenge. But with you?

He had everything to lose.

Your hair was a total mess; glasses slightly crooked and you were in your pyjamas, a matching set of a purple tank top and shorts with stars and moons. The only thing you had covering you was a purple silk robe, drawing it closer to your chilly body as your eyes narrowed at Steven.

You should be mad at him, and you were. Still, despite everything, you hopped on to the first bus you saw and scrambled the rest of the way here as fast as you could.

But now that you were here...what in Khonshu's name were you going to do? You could scream at him with all the pain you haven't had the pleasure to release like you did on the phone, but you'd just be wasting your breath. Then again, he wasn't lying. He really is here. And it confused you more than anything.

And seeing him like this, looking so...sad. Well, it made you sad. Him miserably clenching onto a heart shaped chocolate box, fat globs of tears cascading down his cheeks as he gawked at you with his pretty doe brown eyes.

You raised your hand, and Steven shut his eyes as he braced himself for the slap he very much deserved--only to be met with your soft palm, wiping away his tears tenderly.

"Explain to me, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

The travel to Steven's apartment was spent in deafening silence, but it brought upon a strange sort of comfort. Unconsciously, you hugged Steven's black jacket that he had offered you earlier even closer to your much smaller frame. It soothed your nerves, being completely enveloped in his smell; fresh soap with a hint of musky cologne.

Once you reached his unit, you couldn't help but smile. It was just so...Steven. It was a bit messy, but a good kind of messy. You didn't really know how to describe it, but it warmed your heart especially when you saw a giant fish tank with only one goldfish.

"Cuppa tea?" Steven asked to which you shook your head, facing him fully.

"No. I'm a 'get over it' kinda girl so whatever your explanation is, I'd rather we just nip it in the bud." You huffed before you halted, biting your lip. "Oh, uh, sorry... Of course, if you wanna have tea, you can. It's your home, after all."

Steven laughed, his first real laugh that entire day. "Are you always this nice to blokes you should be mad at?"

"Only if they are really into Egyptology and have beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous curls." You rolled your eyes though you couldn't suppress your grin before you cleared your throat, getting a hold of your stupid giddy self. "Now, explain."

Steven's demeanour instantly shifted, serious now and quite uneasy. But he nodded and gestured towards the couch. You walked over and plopped down, Steven sitting next to you and keeping a respectful couple inches between the two of you.

He looked down at the ground, carefully considering his words before meeting your gaze solemnly. "Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" You nodded, previously learning about it in Psychology class and researching about it due to personal interest. "That's...what I have. I'm an alter within a system, and there are two others--Marc Spector and Jake Lockley."

"Am I correct to assume that when you asked me out...it wasn't actually you?"

Steven blinked, rather startled that you were taking this so well. "Yes. Jake was the one who asked you out."

"Was he also the one who didn't show up for the date?"

"No, that would be Marc." He grumbled. "And listen, I'm truly sorry about him. He's a right twit. It may not have been me who didn't show up, but that absolutely doesn't excuse the hurt it caused you. I am so, so sorry, Y/N."

Your brows furrowed, mulling over this new revelation. But...you believed him, especially when it explained all those times you secretly caught Steven muttering incoherently to himself or staring at his reflection and quietly reacting to something. You were curious about more, of course, but Steven didn't have any reason to lie about such a serious matter. And if he was lying, there were plenty of other things he could say. But the way he acted, and just the look in his eyes--he knew the risks of opening up to you, but he did it anyway.

You clasped his hands in yours, sighing. "I know I look calm right now, but trust me, I'm freaking the fuck out." You chuckled, and Steven felt safe enough to join you. "But... I trust you, Steven. And I believe you. Tell me one thing, though. Are you...into me? Like, at all?"

"Of course I am!" He replied in a flash, making you both pause before erupting into easy laughter. "Why would you even have to ask that, love?"

"It's just... Well, if Jake was the one who asked me out, it made me wonder if you really did like me." You mumbled, looking away.

Steven gently grasped your chin, tipping your face back towards him. "I've liked you since the day we met, Y/N. In your pink skirt and the cute little pigtails you had." He smiled, eyes so amorous and gleaming with sincerity. "Truth is, I've wanted to ask you out since forever. I'm just not as...forward as Jake is."

"And that's fine. But hey, we gotta thank him 'cause Lord knows I'd just spiral into a panic attack if I ever made the first move." You chuckled. But it gradually died down as Steven continued to stare at you, and you never thought you would ever have someone look at you the way Steven did; as if you were precious treasure hidden within a sacred tomb.

Slowly, ever so slowly, your body started moving of its own accord. You were leaning closer, closer, closer--a mere breath away from his lips before he piped up.

"I'm also Khonshu's Avatar!"

"Say what?"

"Um, well, you see--" He stammered, mentally slapping himself.

'Don't say anything, Steven.' Marc warned, and it took all of Marc's willpower not to seize control and actually slap Steven.

But it was too late now. Steven already said too much, but he wanted to be honest with you. Utterly so. And since you wanted to nip this in the bud, now was the best time more than anything.

"Erm... You've seen the news, yeah?" He didn't grant you the chance to respond as he rambled. "Masked vigilantes... Moon Knight and Mr. Knight? They're actually...Marc and I."

"Steven, this is--"

"I'll show you, Y/N. I'll summon the suit."

"Summon the soup? What is happening--"

Steven stood up, and a split second later there was a whirl of white. And sure enough, there was none other than one half of the mysterious heroes you've been seeing a lot on the news recently; his glowing white eyes locked with yours, crisp ivory suit and batons clutched tightly in his hands.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in--"

"Handsome..." You blurted out before you can restrain yourself.

"Huh?" Steven blushed underneath the mask, and you were the same as your cheeks tinted crimson. Then you rose from the couch, closing the gap between you two and removing his mask.

His curls stuck every which way and his eyes were as wide as the full moon, making you giggle. "You're so handsome, Steven. And yeah, this is a fucking lot to take in. To be honest, a part of me is still wondering if this is all just a dream." You reached up, caressing the side of his face sweetly and smiling. "But...thank you. Thank you for being honest with me."

His batons dropped to the floor, trembling hands hesitantly settling on your hips. You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he looked down at you, tears once again glistening in his eyes. Happiness, relief, adoration--how can so many exhilarating emotions crash over him all at once?

"Can I be more honest?" He whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I...want you to stay with me."

Your cheeks hurt from how impossibly wide your smile has stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

"I'm staying whether you like it or not, Steven with a V."

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Smut #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Marc Spector #Steven Grant Smut #Jake Lockley Smut #Marc Spector Smut #Steven Grant x Reader #Jake Lockley x Reader #Marc Spector x Reader #Steven Grant x Reader Smut #Jake Lockley x Reader Smut #Marc Spector x Reader Smut #Reader x Steven Grant #Reader x Jake Lockley #Reader x Marc Spector #Reader x Steven Grant Smut #Reader x Jake Lockley Smut #Reader x Marc Spector Smut #Oscar Isaac

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: language, descriptions of violence, death, graphic description of dead bodies, angst, smut (m masturbation), sexual tension x a million

A/N: please tell me if I should use any additional tags/warnings on this story. Also this is the longest chapter yet, I knew when I wanted it to end but I kept adding more detail and more scenes as I wrote and it just got away from me oops

Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

December 2003

Chicago, IL

The cold, bitter wind blew off the lake as you trudged through the snow. You had three layers underneath your thick jacket, but you were still freezing. You had forgotten just how cold it felt this close to the lake, but you kept eagerly pushing forward.

"I think I know where we are," you said excitedly to Joel, who had been unusually silent the past few miles. "There's this golf course a couple miles from my house, I think this is it."

"Can hardly see a thing out here," was all Joel said in response. You frowned, annoyed that he was bringing you down when you were finally starting to feel hopeful.

"What's wrong?" you asked, putting an arm out to stop him. He sighed and you watched as a puff of air leave his mouth then dance away on the wind before he turned to look at you.

"I'm just -" he stopped, rethinking his words. "I'm worried. If they ain't there, we need to go to the QZ, and I don't know if it'll be as easy to get out once we're in, like it was before." He paused before adding, "And I'm worried about you... if we don't find what you're expectin'."

"Don't be worried, I know it's a long shot. But I have to try. What else do I have?" You looked up at him through your eyelashes, dusted with snowflakes. You looked so beautiful that it took his breath away. He had to jam his fist into his pocket to keep himself from reaching out and cupping your face.

"You got me," he said, looking at you softly with his heart hammering in his chest. You inhaled sharply. He didn't mean it like it sounded. "We can go out west, see if we can find Tommy. It'll be warmer out there, too," he added nervously.

You could tell he was really trying, he looked anxious as he shifted his gaze to your surroundings, his hands fidgeting deeply in the pockets of his coat. You weren't even sure where you would even begin to look for Tommy, if that plan was even possible, but if he was willing to take you all this way to find your family, the least you could do is agree to try to find his.

"Yeah, okay," you said quietly. His fidgeting stopped, and he made eye contact with you again. "If I can't find my parents, that's a good plan. We can do that." You smiled reassuringly at him now, trying to ease his mind. He gave you a small smile in return and a quick nod, then looked back down at the snow, brushing his nose with the back of his gloved hand.

"Can we get moving, now? I'd like to get out of this cold soon," you said, stomping your feet lightly, trying to get more blood to circulate in your legs.

"Yeah, sure, let's get goin'," he said, and you headed across the golf course towards a wooded area in the distance. If this was the golf course you thought it was, then your neighborhood was just on the other side of those woods.

You made it to the outskirts of your neighborhood just before dusk. The familiar tree lined streets just a few blocks away from your house made your heart flutter in anticipation. You knew you shouldn’t get excited; you knew it was unlikely they would be there, or even leave any type of note telling you where they went, but you couldn’t help it. This was where you grew up, this was your home. Your memories were etched in these streets: learning how to ride a bike, falling out of the tree and breaking your arm in your best friend’s backyard, trolling the streets at night as teenagers thinking you were tough and cool. A part of you was excited to show your home to Joel, but you quickly stopped that line of thought. He was not your boyfriend you were bringing home to meet your parents. He was your boss who agreed to help keep each other safe these past few months.

You both approached your street as darkness wrapped around you. Joel insisted you survey the street for a while to see if there was any movement before giving away your position. You reluctantly agreed, ducking behind a house on the corner, until you saw light moving inside a house. Your house.

“Oh my god,” you said breathily, “that’s my house. Joel!” you latched onto his forearm, dragging his attention onto you, “My parents!” you gasped.

You lurched forward, but Joel’s hand yanked you back. You angrily spun around to face him.

“I know you’re excited,” he began, clenching both his hands on your shoulders, “but we don’t know if that’s them, it’s been a long time. I think we should wait- “

You cut him off, saying, “It’s got to be them, what are the chances? C’mon, Joel, please!” you begged, clutching his wrist. His gaze bore into yours as you held onto him, and again you whispered, “please,”.

He groaned, unable to deny you when you looked so sweet and adamant. “Alright, just give me a few minutes, let me think of a plan,” he replied, at which your face broke out in a huge smile, still grasping his hand in yours as you bounced on your heels.

“Sure, whatever, I just want to see them,” you replied, looking back at the lights moving around your living room. You couldn’t believe it; your parents were alive! Joel had tried to curb your expectations, but it wasn’t even necessary, they were there. They were right there!

You approached your house in the darkness, unable to keep the smile from your face as Joel led you quietly across the street. He rapped his knuckles three times on the door and pulled out his revolver as he stepped to the side, ready for hostility.  When the door cracked open, it was not what either of you expected.

A man you didn't recognize peered out from around the corner. All you could see was his eye, but he looked terrified as he feverishly looked back and forth between you and Joel.

"Who are you?" he asked, the door still cracked.

"Who am I? Who are you?" you replied before thinking, "this is my house, what are you doing?"

The man faltered a moment and Joel stiffened on the other side of the door. "Are you armed?" the man asked nervously, unable to see Joel's revolver at his side.

"Goddamn right we are," Joel spoke up, his grip on the gun tightening, "you better start explain' yourself."

The man went to slam the door shut but Joel was anticipating it, shoving his boot in the doorway to stop him.

"Alright, alright, I don't mean any harm," the stranger said, opening the door up more and walking backwards with his hands in the air, "come in, I'm not armed, but please don't hurt us."

Us. You entered your living room. It looked the same, except some pieces of furniture were pushed closer together. You glanced up at the wall above the fireplace by habit, seeing your high school graduation photo still prominently displayed, then your eyes settled on a woman cowering in the corner of the room. She was taller than you and blonde, with wide blue eyes and bangs that brushed her eyebrows, and she was shaking with fear. You held your hand out to Joel and pushed his revolver gently towards the floor. He resisted until his gaze met the girl in the corner, and his arms went limp.

The man who answered the door stepped forward, and you noticed now he seemed much younger, maybe around you age. He kept his arms up in front of him as he stood in front of the woman, his eyes pleading.

"Please, we don't mean any harm, we are just looking for a safe place to stay." He repeated, his brown eyes anxiously shifting back and forth between you and Joel.

Joel met your eyeline, and you sighed. Obviously, your parents had moved on, which left you distraught, but these people were harmless.

"It's fine," Joel said, tucking the gun in the back of his jeans. "This is her house," he gestured towards you, "we're lookin' for her parents, you know anythin' about that?"

The man lowered his hands now that Joel put his gun away, and drifted backwards to stand next to the woman, who still looked shaken.

"No, I'm sorry, I don't know who used to live here. We just needed someplace safe to stay for the winter, and this neighborhood was abandoned. We just picked your house randomly, I'm so sorry." the man apologized again, truly looking upset he couldn't help you more. "I'm Tim, this is Lucy," Tim rubbed Lucy's back affectionately, trying to ease her nerves.

You both introduced yourselves and they relaxed a bit, sitting down on the sofa and chairs surrounding the crackling fireplace.

"You think havin' a fire is a good idea? What if someone sees the smoke?" Joel asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Hasn't been a problem yet," Tim replied, "until you two."

You shook your head. "We didn't notice the smoke, but we saw your flashlights."

Tim smacked his palm against his forehead. "The one day I forget to pull the curtains closed, dang it!"

Joel shook his head and learned toward to Tim, "You need to be more careful. You're lucky it was just us," he said, swinging his thumb between the two of you. "You need to be better prepared, you gotta protect her," now motioning towards the Lucy.

Tim's face paled and he gulped nervously, reaching out and clutching Lucy's hand. "Can you give us some pointers? We just left the QZ two weeks ago, we are doing our best out here but," Tim gave Lucy a tight smile, "we could use all the help we could get."

Joel's eyes shifted between Lucy and Tim, then back to you. He didn't want to waste his time helping some kids who clearly were in over their heads, but the look on your face when you turned to meet his gaze changed his mind. He was finding it impossible to say no to you.

"Yeah, alright. For starters, close the damn curtains and put out the fire," he told Tim gruffly.

"How will we stay warm?" Lucy spoke up for the first time, nervously casting her gaze between you and Joel.

"Blankets. Keep your bedroom door closed. Body heat. Set up tents to sleep in inside when the temperatures really drop," you replied curtly. "Only when absolutely necessary should you risk a fire. It's still November, there's a long winter ahead of you."

Joel smiled at you proudly as you spoke, Lucy catching his look. You had been picking up tidbits from him over the past few months, and he was happy to see you've been paying attention.

Tim got up to close the curtains as Joel began to put the fire out. Lucy turned to you, shooting you a nervous smile.

"Tim and I are already in the master bedroom, do you and your boyfriend mind taking the other one?"

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend," you replied quickly. Too quickly. Joel's shoulders tensed over the fireplace. "But no, that's fine, we're used to sharing a bed, and that's my old room anyway."

Lucy smiled at you politely before shifting her eyes between you and Joel curiously, her eyebrows scrunched together as if she was trying to figure something out, then relaxed her brow when Tim returned to her side.

"Alright then, we're going to get some sleep. Obviously, help yourselves to whatever's in the cupboards. It is your house, after all." Tim said, glancing at you with a quick smile.

You nodded and wished them good night as they headed towards your parents’ room. It was just as well: it would have been weird to sleep with Joel in their bed.

The door shut behind them and you got to work rummaging through the familiar cupboards, pulling out some canned food you could eat and without having to think, pulled open the drawer that housed the can opener, and then the silverware. Joel eyed you warily as he sat down at the kitchen table. He knew he wasn't your boyfriend, but the way you quickly corrected Lucy still bothered him.

You ate in silence, leaving one flashlight on between you. Joel looked around your kitchen, trying to imagine you growing up here. His eyes landed on the fridge that had some pictures stuck to it with magnets. Once you were finished eating, he picked up the flashlight and went to take a closer look.

"Oh, those were taken so long ago, I hardly even look the same," you said, noticing where his attention was drawn.

Joel tsk'ed, zeroing in on a picture of you when you were little and drawing with chalk on the sidewalk, then another where you were on a field trip with your 8th grade class, and a third picture where you were in a sparkly red dress for a homecoming dance with some boy's arm around your waist.

"As I said, those were taken a long time ago," you whispered, suddenly appearing beside him. He turned to look at you, really look at you: he could still see the similarities from the pictures in the way you smiled, the shape of your eyes, and the curve of your mouth.

You yawned and reached out to grab your backpack. "Follow me," you said quietly, not wanting to disturb Tim and Lucy.

You led Joel down the hall towards your bedroom and pushed the door open. You were pleasantly surprised that your parents left it exactly the same. You still had posters hung on your wall of the Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, and Destiny's Child. The pictures that decorated your dresser mirror were the same ones you shoved in the frame from high school: pictures of you and your friends at dances, at a restaurant, the mall, and a couple with the same boy who was on the fridge.

"Who's the guy?" Joel couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, that's Matt. He was my first boyfriend. We broke up right before college," you said coolly as you pulled out some more comfortable clothes from your backpack and left to go change in the bathroom down the hall.

Joel took the opportunity to look casually through the items on your dresser, sniffing a few different half used perfume bottles and flipping through some CDs. It was strange to be here in your bedroom. He had never considered actually being here before, too focused on the journey and not really thinking about the destination. You returned to the bedroom with a couple of extra blankets in your arms.

"My parents kept these in the hall closet, I already made sure Tim and Lucy had enough," you explained, spreading the blankets over your twin bed. You swallowed nervously, realizing this bed was smaller than the beds you've previously shared. Joel excused himself to go clean up and change as you slid into the sheets, your eyes closing in relief at the familiarity of the room. You didn't realize you had nearly fallen asleep until the mattress shifted, and your eyes snapped open. Joel's leg and arm brushed up against yours as you tried to keep your body from going rigid at the contact. It was unavoidable, your bed was too small, so you forced your body to relax and tried not to overthink it.

"Tomorrow, I'll ask ‘em about the QZ. If they can share any details about the place, then I think we can go there lookin' for your folks," he whispered in the dark.

"Mhmm, sounds good," you whispered back, still struggling to control your reaction from being so close to him. Your whole body felt hot. You told yourself it was just the extra blankets, but you knew better. Whenever he had been this close before, it was in your sleep, your mind was unable to process his touch until he was already pulling away from you. You squirmed a little, trying to get more comfortable.

"You need more room?" he asked, about to move before you stopped him.

"No, I'm fine, thanks," you said quickly, and turned to your side, finally getting a few more inches between you.

Joel stared at your back longingly. It seemed like every day something reminded him of what he would never have. The way you shirked away from his touch and how you made it perfectly clear you were nothing more than companions to Lucy felt like a punch in the gut. It's been months, and he still couldn't get his mind off you. You were becoming a burning need and it was driving him crazy. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing sleep to come so he could find some peace.

You woke up the next morning feeling well rested and warm. Really warm. With your eyes still shut, you burrowed into your bedsheets deeper to enjoy the warmth a little longer before having to wake up and face the frigid Midwest. You nuzzled your face forward and froze when your nose and lips met skin instead of a blanket. You slowly opened your eyes and found yourself face to face with Joel’s chest. You must have shifted around and ended up facing him at some point overnight. You stared at the exposed skin of his neck, taking in the little details of his tanned and pebbled skin, examining every birthmark you could lay your eyes on, then leisurely allowed your gaze to travel upwards where his prickly beard scattered over his neck, jaw, and upper lip. You inspected the patchy spots in his beard, seeing a few grey hairs sprouting up on the corners of his jaw. You noticed one bald spot resembled a heart, making you ache with the desire to press your lips there. His lips looked soft and plush, and you remembered how good they felt pushed against your own as they maneuvered your mouth open. His nose was sharp and angular, your favorite feature after his eyes. You were caught up in examining the wrinkles developing around his face when he woke up suddenly and his gaze immediately fixated on you.

You now realized you had your arms tangled around each other. Even your leg was wedged in between his under the blankets. You both lay on your sides, faces inches away, as you continued to stare at one another silently. Joel's eyes flicked down your face, examining you the same way you had just done to him. You felt your cheeks flush under the scrutiny, and you parted your lips to take in more air as your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Joel noticed the movement, his gaze fixed on your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. He exhaled softly through his nose, the puff of air blowing gently over your face. The air around you was thick with tension, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Joel lifted his hand from your hip to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your lips. You sighed and your eyes fluttered shut, unable to resist leaning into his touch this time. He took a moment to appreciate the gentle features of your face while your eyes were closed. He ran his thumb over your lips again, marveling at how soft they were. He swallowed nervously, moving his thumb from your lips to rest on your cheek, then leaned forward, closing his eyes when his nose tenderly nudged your own.

A sharp knock on the door made you gasp and jump away. You sat up in bed, clutching the blanket to your chest and Joel laid back with a frustrated groan, roughly running his hands up and down his face.

"Yes!" you yelped; your voice high pitched. Lucy's quiet voice on the other side of the door answered.

"Just checking on you, we have breakfast and coffee whenever you're ready!"

"Be right out!" you replied, voice still too high, no doubt the result of your nerves short circuiting. You stared down at your hands, unsure what to say.

"Did you sleep alright?" you finally asked, a question he usually was asking you. You fidgeted with the edge of the blanket and turned to look at him, anxiously waiting for his answer. He dragged his hands down from his face and let them rest on his stomach, then shot you a grin.

"Slept fuckin' great," he said, grinning wider as he watched your face heat up from embarrassment, and you bit your lip to hold back a smile of your own. It took everything he had to not grab you and pull you back into his arms as you stood up and walked to the door.

"I'll see you in a minute," you said shyly, and closed the door behind you. You headed to the bathroom first, giving yourself a moment to catch your breath. You hovered over the sink and stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a mess, and your face was flushed. You looked completely wrecked. What were you thinking? The tension was beginning to be too much, and maybe if you just had sex and got it out of your system, just one time, it would help clear your head. It doesn't have to mean anything. If that was all he was willing to offer you, would that be so bad? You could separate the physical from the emotional, right? You sighed, raking your fingers through your hair to tame it, and went to meet Tim and Lucy in the kitchen.

"Fuck," Joel whispered out loud to himself after you left. He palmed his erection over his sweatpants, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. It had been so long since he last jerked off. It was risky, you could come back in here at any moment, but he was convinced he would be hard half the day if he didn't take care of himself.

He pushed his sweatpants down just enough to pull out his cock, squeezing his eyes shut as he gripped himself firmly, setting a fast pace right away, knowing it wouldn't take him long. He let out short, quick gasps as he replayed the events from that morning: the way he caught you looking at him when he woke up, the sound you made when you sighed into his hand, your soft lips. "Shit," he groaned through clenched teeth, his hips thrusting into his fist as he imagined those lips wrapped around his cock, looking up at him through your eyelashes, your face all flushed as you brought him into your mouth as far as you could before stifling a gag.

He frantically reached out to the bedside table where he saw a few scarves piled near the lamp, snatching one and catching his release just in time before he made a mess all over your bed. He laid there for a few minutes catching his breath and then tucked himself back into his pants, shoving the scarf deep under your bed. He reluctantly stood up to change his clothes and ran his fingers through his hair before heading towards the kitchen.

"Oh my goodness, that sounds awful!" Joel heard you saying as he walked into the room. The three of you sat around the table with mugs of coffee, some oatmeal and pop-tarts. He sat down in a chair next to you and poured himself coffee before digging into the food.

"It got really bad there, we just couldn't risk sticking around. From what others were saying, it was just as bad in any other city," Tim had finished saying. You turned to Joel, faltering for a split second when your eyes met, before explaining.

"They just told me the QZ is a shitshow. People are having their food rationed, they're doing grunt work for hardly anything in return, and some people are being attacked for their supplies and the soldiers don't do anything to stop it," you said, listing each item off on your fingers as you spoke.

"Well, it could have been worse. We heard stories about soldiers going to neighborhoods and filling up trucks with people, telling them they'll go to the QZ, but the trucks never arrived," said Lucy, eyes wide. "Rumor has it, there wasn't enough room, so the soldiers shot everyone and left them on the side of the road."

"Why would they do that?" you gasped, a hand over your mouth.

"Dead people can't turn into infected," said Tim sadly, "that's why we stuck it out in the QZ as long as we could."

"How long were you there for?" Joel asked, pausing to take a sip of the piping hot coffee. He looked around, frowning, wondering for the first time how they heated up food, and then he saw the fireplace roaring. His eyes flicked back to Tim angrily.

"I know, I know, we're gonna put it out, we just wanted to warm up a bit and make something to eat," he waved off Joel's glare with a chuckle, "besides, you couldn't even see the smoke last night."

"We were distracted, anyone else walkin' up this street will see it. I'm warnin' you right now," Joel scowled and pointed his finger menacingly at Tim, "if you get her hurt 'cause you ain't listenin' to me, I'm gonna make the QZ look like a fuckin' playground." The whole table was silent while Joel stared daggers into Tim's paling face. You were confused why Joel was so protective over Lucy, a stranger by all accounts, until the coffee kicked in and it clicked: Joel wasn't referring to Lucy. He was talking about you. You could feel the tips of your ears getting red.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the tension at the table. Then a thought occurred to you. You got up quickly and snatched a picture off the mantle over the fireplace, bringing it back to the table and slid it between Lucy and Tim.

"Did you ever see those two people in the QZ?" you asked desperately, your gaze bouncing between them as they examined the photo carefully. They frowned as they stared into the faces of your smiling parents, then slowly shook their heads.

"I'm sorry, I don't think so. But it was a big place," said Lucy, "it's possible they could be there, and we just never saw or noticed them!"

You sighed, thanking them anyway, and pulled the picture back towards you. Joel could see the disappointment in your eyes, and he wanted to take your mind off it. His gaze traveled to a corner of the kitchen where he saw a bow leaning up against the wall with a quiver of arrows. He nodded towards it.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked, standing up to inspect it. You looked up and gasped.

"That's mine! Oh my god, I had no idea my parents kept it."

"Yeah, we found it in the basement. We didn't have any weapons, so we figured it was better than nothing. I've never even used a bow before," Tim said. Joel picked it up and pulled on the strings a few times, then picked up a couple arrows and flicked the tips to test their sharpness.

"You mind if we borrow it? I wanna try to get us something substantial to eat. Looks like it's gonna be a nice day," Joel said, peeking out the window up at the sun, watching the icicles on the gutters drip.

Tim agreed, since it wasn't really his to begin with. You insisted on leaving your pistol on the counter with them, in case of an emergency. Lucy shuddered when she saw the gun, and Tim picked it up to put it in the cupboard next to the sink.

"She hates guns," he explained quietly to you as you and Joel got ready to head out to hunt. "After seeing so much brutality in the QZ, she can't stand them. I'm just trying to keep her calm and happy, so I do as she says." He smiled at you both as you walked through the front door. Before you walked away, Joel turned back to Tim and just simply said "Fire," in a forceful tone, to which Tim nodded and gave a thumbs up, closing the door behind you.

The two of you walked silently down the street back towards the woods you came from, your heads swiveling every so often to make sure no one else was around. The sun was bright, and it was bouncing off the white snow, making you wince. You could tell as you walked that the few inches of snow that was on the ground was breaking up under the warmth. It would probably mostly be gone by nighttime, leaving muddy and dead grass to admire.

Once you reached the woods, Joel did his best to track any animal prints that looked fresh. He wasn't exactly an expert, but he knew enough. You followed closely behind him and kept your eyes on the trees for any movement. You had been walking around the woods for almost an hour before you stopped to rest. You found a fallen tree trunk elevated a bit from the ground that you could both comfortably sit on. You took a sip from your canteen as you glanced around. The forest was so still and quiet, it felt peaceful. You closed your eyes for a moment to savor it, unaware Joel was watching you closely.

Neither of you had mentioned anything about this morning. Joel felt a glimmer of hope inside him that maybe not all was lost, that maybe you could feel the same way he did. He wanted to talk about it, but he didn't want to scare you off and ruin the progress he had made. He cleared his throat, the noise grabbing your attention and making you open your eyes to look at him.

"So," he began, fiddling with the bow in his hands, his eyes cast downward, "I guess when we get back, we oughta ask 'em how they escaped from the QZ, then we can make a plan, get in and see if we can find your folks."

"Mhm, that sounds good," you said, watching him pick at the bow. "Maybe we should stay one more night, then leave early tomorrow."

He looked up at you now, unable to hide the shock from his face. He expected you would want to leave right away, eager to find your family. He scanned your face, seeing a small, playful smile, and he swallowed roughly. You wanted to stay another night for a reason.

His breath caught in his throat, and he could feel the warmth spreading across his cheeks. He hoped you would think the cold air was to blame as he shifted his weight on the log, dragging his gaze from you and onto the trees.

"Yeah," he finally squeezed out, "that's fine, we can leave tomorrow."

You bit your lip and turned your head away from him so he wouldn't see the smile that threatened to spill across your face.

You heard a snap of a twig nearby, drawing both of your attention as you fixated on the location of the noise. You froze when you saw a fat rabbit about 10 yards away, happily munching on some grass that had been exposed by the sun. Joel slowly reached down for the bow, but without looking you reached your hand out to place on top of his, stopping him. You motioned with your fingers to hand over the bow. You were more familiar with it, but it had been a long time. It was like riding a bike, right?

You loaded an arrow slowly into the bow, and drew back the string silently, closing one eye and aiming straight ahead. You let out a slow breath, then held it for half a second before letting go of the string. You cried out in happiness when the arrow made contact, killing the rabbit instantly. Joel swiveled his head towards you with a huge grin plastered on his face, beaming with pride.

You held the rabbit by the feet as you made your way back to the house, explaining you used to shoot archery in middle school but lost interest. The adrenaline from the kill combined with the excitement of what lied ahead for you and Joel was making you dizzy with happiness. You should have known something was going to ruin it.

You were a few doors down from your house, still smiling and teasing Joel about how much of a better hunter you were when his eyes fell on the front door of your house, and he froze. You stopped automatically, following his gaze to the front door of the house that was wide open. You both stood there for a minute, waiting to see if Tim was going to appear walking back inside with a bucket of snow to melt, but he never did. You turned to Joel, your eyes filled with worry.

"Did he leave the door open?" you asked shakily, hoping there was a reasonable explanation. Joel slowly shook his head, eyes still trained on the house. You looked around you now, trying to make out any footprints in the snow that may have been foreign, and Joel looked around at the houses on the street for movement. When it appeared to be quiet and still, you both begrudgingly approached your home, afraid of what you would find.

Joel stepped through the door first, his face immediately contorting in a grimace. He held his arm out to keep you back, but you refused, dropping the rabbit and pushing past him, gasping at the sight before you. Tim and Lucy were slaughtered, laying lifeless on your living room floor. Blood seeped into the beige carpet, making it spongy and red. Their eyes were open and staring up at the ceiling, their mouths agape as blood slowly trickled from their multiple stab wounds.

You bit back a sob, turning away to focus on literally anything except them. Joel desperately wanted to comfort you, but he first needed to know the bandits were gone, so he advanced into the small house, clearing each room before returning to find you standing in the kitchen, tears streaming down your face.

He briefly noticed the cupboards were left wide open, all the food taken, as well as the pistol you left for Tim, before he reached out to envelop you in his arms. You sank into his embrace, sobbing quietly into his shoulder. His eyes flicked back to the scene in the living room.

“That fuckin’ fire, I told him to put it out,” he said, staring at the small flames still licking at the embers.

You tried to argue with Joel about burying them, but he didn’t want to risk it. He wanted to get back into the forest behind the shelter of the pine trees. You had packed up your things quickly while Joel draped a couple sheets over their bodies. He made sure to grab the rabbit you killed before hurrying you out the front door and back towards the forest, not stopping until you were miles away and you begged him to take a break. He relented only when he found a secluded spot where he felt safe making a small fire to cook the rabbit. As you ate, he examined his map, trying to figure out where you were in relation to the QZ. He was fairly certain you were heading in the right direction, his eyes lifting up towards the sun and then turned the map around in his hands.  

“I think we’re here,” he told you, pointing to a green area on the map. “If we hook up with this road here,” he dragged his finger over to a thick line on the page, “then that will take us right into the city, and we can find the QZ.” You nodded, cleaning off your plates in what little snow remained on the ground. “You doin’ ok?” he asked you hesitantly. You stopped cleaning the plates to look up at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “just… that could’ve been us. It scared me.” You held his gaze for a moment, trying to express how much he meant to you with a look. Joel shook his head and leaned forward to grip your hand.

“It ain’t gonna be us, we don’t make stupid mistakes like that, you understand me?” You nodded, your eyes raking over his face, wondering if your luck will eventually run out. He gave your hand one more squeeze before standing up, urging you to pack up so you could make it to the QZ before nightfall.

The road Joel had pointed out to you on the map was deserted, surrounded only by thick forests and a few abandoned cars as you made your way slowly towards the city. You kept your gaze on the ground in front of you, absentmindedly kicking a stone here or there as you walked beside Joel, who was on high alert for raiders and gripping his rifle tightly in his hands. The road curved and steered you towards an open field, where you could now see buildings not too far off in the distance. Suddenly, Joel stretched his arm out across your chest, stopping you both. You looked up at him, confused, then followed his gaze. Not far ahead, you could see a pile of bodies on the side of the road, just like Lucy had warned. You held your breath, unable to fathom how evil those soldiers must be to execute all those innocent people. He looked down at you, and you nodded to him, telling him you were ok, to keep walking.

You continued down the road, both of you unable to keep your eyes off the bodies as you got closer. You couldn’t tell how long they had been there, the harsh winter had likely preserved their bodies, but with the snow melting today, you could make out most of their exposed faces and clothes. Your eyes scanned over a few of the bodies on top and that’s when you saw them: their bodies twisted and lifeless, laid next to one another on the side of the pile.

You dropped to your knees in the middle of the street, not even registering the pain from the impact. Then your vision went blurry before blackness creeped along the edges. You forced out a choked cry, unable to control the volume of your voice as sobs shook your body. Joel’s arms were around you instantly, cutting off your view from your parents, and kneeled down in the street with you, holding you to his chest to muffle your screams, rocking you back and forth until your breathing slowed and you ran out of tears.

Chapter Twelve

Taglist: @chiogarza, sparklejumpropequeen-777

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Hi I just finished reading the steve harrington x reader imagine where its their one year anniversary and reader finds out about the bet, I was wondering if you could maybe do a 2nd part where Steve somehow finds a way to win reader back and decide to still be bf and girlfriend rather than start all over again and steve asks reader out officially (since he asked her out bc of a bet originally) and they have their date where he reasks her to be his gf, then time skip to where its their 2 year anniversary and he proposes🤍

I got so carried away....oops? Over 4k words

I didn't get into the propose but I totally can if anyone wants me to! I hope you enjoy and it was worth the wait, I am thinking of making an alternative version of this where the reader doesn't take him back, if you want tagged lmk!

Steve was not the same without you. Anyone and everyone could tell. He showed up late to work, never talked to the customers, and he hasn't spoken to Robin, Nancy, or anyone from the group for that matter. He just wanted to disappear into his bed and never be discovered.

However, just because he was in his bed didn't mean he slept. No, he hasn't slept since you left, and if he did, it was for minutes at a time. Instead of sleeping, he just stared. Stared at your side of the bed, stared at pictures of you two together, stared at the ring that haunted him. All he could do was stare.

You weren't doing any better. You didn't just lose Steve but you lost your best friends too, being betrayed by your boyfriend hurt but being betrayed by who you considered the closest friends in your life hurt you the most. You couldn't bring yourself to reach out, anytime the phone rang you just let it ring, anytime there was a knock on the door you just waited under mounds of blankets for the person to leave. Everyone was concerned for the two of you but no one knew how to help, that is until Dustin went and forced Steve to get out of bed. For a 15 year old Dustin was surprisingly strong, Steve found this out when he was dragged out of his bed and into the shower. "You are showering. You are going to make yourself presentable and you are going to go talk to her. At least make sure she's still breathing." Dustin rolls his eyes but he misses how Steve's breathing got caught in his throat hearing that you weren't doing well, even if Dustin just briefly mentioned it.

Steve didn't care about himself, he lost you and that ended with him losing himself, but he never stopped caring about you. He rushed through the shower and hurried to get presentable once again before dragging his ass to the car and headed to your house after making a quick stop to the flower shop. The entire ride to your house he gave himself multiple pep-talks. "I'm a douche....this is noticeable, everyone can see that but" he sighs softly and shakes his head as he feels tears starting to form, "But with you...god y/n with you I wanted to be better. I will be better for you, I want to be the man you deserve even if I can never achieve that. Fuck maybe I'm just selfish...I definitely don't deserve you, no one...no one deserves an angel like you." When Steve pulls into your driveway tears are falling freely down his cheeks, he gets out of the car and grabs the flowers he bought you while choking back sobs. He doesn't bother knocking, if what Dustin told him he knows you won't bother answering the door. Even though you've been apart for weeks now he still has keys to your place so technically....not breaking and entering???

He softly walks through your home trying not to disturb anything, not wanting to taint anything more than he already has. He is in front of your bedroom door much quicker than he was prepared, the door was already opened and the sight before him destroyed his already broken heart. In front of him was the love of his life, under mounds of blankets with the only evidence of life being the slow rise and fall of the blankets.

"Oh princess..." he softly speaks breaking the silence. You jump slightly, blankets falling off your figure, at the sound of a familiar voice, a haunting voice. "Steve...." Your voice creaks and your sight blurs, sitting up straight you feel your breathing stop at the sight of the man before you. Even though he tried his hardest to look presentable for your presence he was still a clear mess. His hair was disheveled, his cheeks were blotchy and eyes bright red. He walks to your side slowly as if he was approaching an injured animal, "Princess I..." His voice cracks and lip quivers as a sob wins the fight he was trying to win. "I am so sorry! I-I never...never meant for this to happen, never fuck i never wanted to hurt you. I was going to tell you but everything was going so well I just didn't want to lose you" Your throat gets tight and begins to burn as you fight the tears that were determined to fall. "Steve I...I loved you."

Loved....Loved....past tense....loved

"No....baby no not loved... I love you. I love you. How can I fix this? There has to be a way to fix this I...fuck I can't lose you forever. This might have started as a bet but my love for you was never apart of it. I've never loved someone as much as I love you"

A scoff and an eye roll is what he's met with, causing him to panic even more at the thought of never having you in his life again. But then you move closer to him and you take the flowers from his hands. "We can try to start over..." You whispered softly

----Time skip-----

It's been two years since the break up, it's been two years since starting over. And things had never been better, Steve never wanted to lose you and tonight he's hoping that he can assure that you'll be his forever with a ring on your left hand.

Tagging: @emmyshortcake @succubusmunson @bloodthirstybreedingbunny @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @keerysfolklore @eddiesguitarskills @mystargirl-interlude @lofaewrites @sweet-villain

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst #steve harrington imagines #version 1

[gfcheol]

late blooming pt1 | j. wonwoo

pairing: wonwoo x f!reader

genre: slow burn, sugar daddy au, smut in later chapters

word count: 5.9k

tags: struggling artist!reader, trust fund kid!wonwoo, mutual pining, emotional constipation, slow burn, eventual smut (in later chapters oops), photographer!mingyu, best friend!jeonghan, swearing

taglist: @bangchanbabygirlx

"You made it!", Mingyu beamed at you, his smile so radiant, it could probably illuminate the whole city if he tried. Even though he towered over most of his guests, you were almost sure that he was standing on the tip of his toes, trying to make you out in the sea of people. You giggled, his enthusiasm easily rubbing off on you, as you matched his gleeful expression.

Truth be told, you weren't expecting that warm of a welcome, when you got the invite to your college buddy's first Vernissage. 'Pieces of me' - read the title, according to the flyer that is. A collection of photographs that Mingyu took over the years, working as a freelance artist. There was a small part of you, bitter and envious, trying to convince yourself that this was the result of luck and money. But you remembered, even back in your college days, the passion ablaze in Mingyu's eyes when he wanted to get the right angle or capture a moment deserving to be of film. Yes, if you liked it or not, some people were simply blessed with talent, beauty and success.

"Gyu!", you squealed as his hands pulled you into a crushing hug, face pressed against his muscular chest. Jesus Christ, had he gotten even bigger?

"I wasn't sure you'd come", his arms tightened around you, as though he was trying to stop you from vanishing again. "You never really responded to the invite..."

Or his other messages. He didn't have to actually voice it out, but you were very well aware of the hurt you caused by going ghost on him, since you two graduated college.

A pang of guilt shot through you, freeing yourself from his bearhug. "Ah, I didn't know if you'd... want me here? I don't know, it's silly", your smile wavered, nervously toying with the complimentary glass of champagne, they'd offered you at the entrance. How you wished, you'd taken more than a sip from your bubbly poison.

"You're right", he said, hand squeezing your shoulder. "You are being silly! I'm always happy to see you, no reason to doubt that."

The sincerity bleeding off his words tore on you, cracks deepening in your happy, little facade as you felt emotions well up, you weren't really ready to show. The past few years had been tough on you. The constant rejection as an artist, the financial struggle that came with it, the myriad of men so ready to break your heart... It seemed difficult to stay positive in such circumstances, resorting to you isolating yourself from those more successful and happier than you. The constant reminder and comparison would have ruined you, you'd told yourself half-heartedly, everytime you saw Mingyu's invites to dinners or birthday parties. Egoism at its absolute worst.

You cleared your throat - this was hardly the time or place to dwell on your own shortcomings. You'd have enough time to reflect on that, in the cozy confines of your apartment.

Another squeeze, this one firmer. Forcing yourself out of your gloomy thought prison, you blinked a few times. "Fuck, sorry- I was kinda zoning out, what did you say?"

Mingyu's grin widened at that. "You really haven't changed, have you?'

"Oh my fucking- Shut up!", you giggled, rolling your eyes. "Can't blame me for getting emotional over Mister Artist over here achieving the dream."

Your compliment, having its intended effect, went straight to his head, a pretty blush blooming on his cheeks. He had always been offensively sweet and handsome at that as well. It felt good to see how none of that got lost over the years. "It's pretty crazy, right?"

"Nah", you followed his gaze as he looked around the spacious hall, darting from people to photographs. His brows furrowed and you swore you could see his eyes well up with heavy tears. "You're talented, Gyu! Always been! Let yourself enjoy the moment."

"Are you trying to make me cry? Because it's kinda working."

The motion of leaning against his side felt too familiar to resist it, the long years spent apart suddenly forgotten. Your own gentle giant. You felt your heart ache. "C'mon, go mingle a bit! All these fancy people came to see you, I'm not gonna hog all of your attention."

A sigh. "Let's catch up later, okay?", he tore himself from you with surprising difficulty, his eyes oozing with all the feelings of the moment, before he disappeared back into the crowd. Well, as well as he could being the giant that he was.

Taking another sip from your glass, you willed away the urge to hide away in the bathroom. Icky feelings be damned, you're not going to let your anxiety ruin this for your friend. Or was it former friend? You'd still have to clarify that with him, once you'd get the chance to catch up and apologize for being the worst person imaginable.

The photographs adorning the walls of the hall were breath-taking - Really, hardly a surprise for anyone knowing the artist. The motives on them might vary - Some of them bursting with warm colors, others melancholic black and white pieces - but you could recognize Mingyu in all of them. You could picture him so clearly behind the lense in some of them. Lips pursed as he'd play with the lighting, until he'd groan out in frustration, strings of whines escaping him. You couldn't help but giggle at the mental image you conjured up.

"And here I was thinking, this piece was probably meant to be wistful", a voice behind you declared.

"Interesting", you commented, copying the serious tone of the still faceless stranger. "I would have gone with 'serene', personally. Not all landscapes are supposed to invoke a sense of sadness, you know."

"Not even rainy, grey ones? Art teachers must have it all wrong." The mystery man was teasing, you could tell, but your pride simply demanded you not to give in. Biting your lip to suppress a smile, you tilted your head to the side, still mustering the photograph in front of you. "If you think a piece of art being devoid of color is enough to make it melancholic, I feel like you need to broaden your horizons."

You turned towards him to present him with a cocky smirk, yet the sight of him caught you off guard, making you halt in your tracks. He was nowhere near the pompous, old fart that you'd expected him to be. Quite the contrary - He must have been around your age, rather tall, sharp eyes adorned with golden rimmed glasses that sat on his nose bridge. There was an air around him you couldn't quite place. Maybe it was confidence - Or rather indifference? He looked at you with no hint of emotion, yet there was an intensity in his expression that made your brows furrow in silent question. Did you know him? Was he an old acquaintance from school? Work maybe? His face seemed so very familiar...

"I'm sorry, have we-"

"No, I don't think we've had the pleasure yet", he was quick to cut you off, eyes still very much set on you. "Y/N, right?"

Momentarily taken aback by his curt behavior, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, the alcohol in your system lending you some bite. "Very charming and not at all creepy", you replied, keeping your tone cold.

The stranger finally broke into a faint smile, your attitude seemingly amusing him, much to your dismay. "It wasn't much of a question", he said. "Mingyu mentioned you."

That only raised more questions within your mind. Yet your heart warmed at the thought of your college friend still talking about you after all these years. Your demeanor softened, feeling heat travel to your ears. "He did?", your voice rang quiet, even to your own ears. "You two are friends?"

Hesitantly, he gave you a slow nod, as if to choose his next words with extra care. "Why would that be so surprising?"

"It isn't...? I just don't know- I thought, we've established we don't know each other? Or am I being like- really inconsiderate right now?", you wrecked your brain, digging for any hint of information about the mystery man. Yet your mind was blank, the mix of alcohol and the whirlwind of emotions making your mind feel hazy.

Your response earned you a wary look, his eyes mustering you with a strange sense of incredulousness, adjusting his glasses on his nose. The strange air of superiority over you didn't help to soothe your ruffled feathers, biting your tongue to refrain from any too rude remark. When he still didn't reply anything, you huffed, patience wearing thin. "Listen, I'm not here to be catty, so don't make this too hard for me."

"Wonwoo", he extended his hand for you, though he still sounded somewhat careful with his introduction. Feeling petty, you eyed his hand with a sceptical raise of your brow, before shaking his hand. "You're a fellow artist."

It wasn't framed like a question, but you still found yourself contemplating the correct response. Did you view yourself as a creative medium that still creates whenever it's possible for you? Absolutely. Did you attend the same college as Mingyu? That's a fact. Would you be ridiculed if you answered affirmatively, only to admit your primary source of income is your cashier job at the convenience store down your street? No doubt about that either.

Avoiding his ever so observant eyes, you offered a shrug. "Something like that, yeah."

He must have sensed your hesitation, directing his attention away from you, and back to the artwork, a hum on his lips. You let yourself muster him more closely - His features were sharp, something intimidating in his sharp cheekbones and clean cut style. Still, you couldn't deny his good looks. Of course, you'd act like a bitch to the first hot guy approaching you in the longest time. You groaned inwardly.

"Are you one too? An artist I mean." His lips quirked up, as if the question itself seemed absolutely preposterous. "Or are you here for our Picasso?"

"Really - 'Picasso'? I would have gone with Monet - Less obvious choice"

A roll of your eyes was enough to stop his teasing, a smirk plastered on his lips. Handsome or not, the urge to dump the rest of your champagne on his pants seemed to grow by the second. "Mingyu invited me."

You hummed in response before he continued. "You're probably familiar with how persistent he can be."

"Not big on crowds then?", you asked, already sympathizing with Mr Wonwoo's very obvious struggle to socialize. "I get it, I'm not a fan either."

"Hm, yes. One could say that. I try to avoid them, at least." He seemed tense replying to you, jaw clenched as he shifted from one foot to the other. A vague feeling of guilt sank in your chest. Oh, this interaction was just getting better and better. Maybe if you were lucky enough, you'd suffer a spontaneous a heart attack and you could free this poor guy from your clumsy conversation.

"It's worth it though", you decided to say, your edges softening all at once, at the mention of your mutual friend. "Just to see him be all smiley and happy. He deserves it, I'm so proud of him."

There was something so inherently vulnerable about sharing fondness for the same person, you mused, even among strangers. Pride and genuine happiness beamed in your chest, and for a heartbeat you felt as bright and happy as Mingyu. "I've been telling him the same thing for months now, but it almost seems like he was willing to believe you more than me."

If he was agitated, he did a great job hiding that. His words were free of malice, merely curiosity peeking its head through some syllables. Yet all you could do is stare dumbly. "Should I be flattered or worried, knowing that you were just lurking in some corner, watching us? Very James Bond villain of you."

"I'd rather see you flattered than anything", the question left him unfazed, shame nowhere in sight. You pouted at the lack of effect your words had on him. In the short while you had gotten to know Wonwoo Last-Name-Unknown, he managed to coax shame, annoyance, and now, a third emotion (one that made your heart flutter and your cheeks heat up) out of you. What a terrible man he proved himself to be, not even possessing the courtesy to pretend.

From the corner of your vision, you saw his smirk deepen, before asking you, "Would it be terribly forward to ask for your number?"

"It would be", you decided, without further thought to his question, suppressing your smile with effort. "But I'm quick to forgive the faux pas."

His phone felt foreign in your hands, as he produced it from seemingly out of nowhere, pressing his thumb to the side, black screen lighting up. To your disappointment, you noticed the default homescreen, the brightness taunting any hope you had to gain insight into his character. Even with a name to his chiselled features, your Mystery Man seemed intent on remaining a stranger to you. His facade so clean, it was hard not to pay mind to the eerie feeling creeping up your spine. A puzzle waiting to be solved, you thought to yourself.

His smile was surprisingly shy, after you'd typed in both name and number into his contacts, fingertips brushing against you a bit too long, as you handed him his phone. "We'll stay in touch." And once again - His tone left no room for argument.

"Okay, boss", you snorted at his all too formal goodbye, granting him one last smile, before turning on your heel, heading into another direction. It felt almost impossible to force the wave of giddiness down your throat, reminding yourself that you don't, in fact, know this guy. You'd grant him the honour of giggles and shy glances, once he'd actually take you out on a date. Or well, if he'd actually take you out.

Mingyu didn't seem all too disappointed, when you'd told him that you would head home for the day, too occupied entertaining both, friends and art lovers. A wave of nostalgia washed over you briefly. Or was it regret? It was hard to tell.

"Text me, okay?", he said with puppy dog eyes. "Promise!"

"Cross my heart and hope to die- I promise", you grinned in return. "Have fun, Monet."

And you could swear, that for a second, you heard a, now familiar, deep voice chuckle in delight. You tried to disregard your glowing cheeks, as you slipped through the glass door, exiting the building.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Blue must have always been your favourite color to work with.

Even during your middle school years, you'd found the depth of it soothing. Dark, ominous waves that house secrets no one will ever know. Or in contrast, the sky on a sunny day, assuring you that this, will surely be your day. So you'd picked up your crayons, your paint or your ballpoint pen and you drew, knowing that if you didn't bring the emotion you held onto paper, they'd be lost forever.

Your mother had called it, your "Blue Period". Strange, considering you had yet to move on to a different color. But who knew? Perhaps you'd grow tired of the depths and the levity, craving intense red or regal purple in your life instead. Perhaps...

Perhaps one day, when the want to venture out will drown out comfort and safety. Until then, you'd be content with blue.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Your chest was heaving up and down as you leaned against the doorframe of your apartment, feeling your heartbeat drum against your skull. "Fuck me", you panted.

"Yeah, that's what jogging does to someone", Jeonghan smirks, very happy with himself, while eyeing your sweaty form. Despite it being past noon, he was still in his PJs, the plaid ones that you'd gifted him last year to his birthday, sporting a self satisfied expression on his delicate features.

You recalled the first time you'd met him. Gyu had left you to your own devices at some frat party, letting you stroll around to either cause mayhem or make new friends. At the time, you'd thought Jeonghan was the most angelic looking guy, you'd ever laid your eyes upon in your life, smiling at you with half lidded eyes, red solo cup in hand. That impression quickly changed, his catty remarks ("And you believed what Joshua told you, Channie? That's so brave of you.") having sparked a whole fist fight amongst the surrounding guys - The reason? He'd wanted an excuse to go home unnoticed.

"Not all of us wanna- oh shit-", you gulped for air, lungs stinging in protest, sweat dripping from your hairline, down to your brow. You could already hear the shower calling to you. "-have the constitution of an old lady, Hannie."

"I'm so proud of you for fighting against your old lady nature then."

Groaning at his retort, you pushed past him into your - suspiciously quiet - shared apartment. Reaching for the zipper of your jacket, you asked, "Didn't you mention that - Layla? Mary? - Wanted to come over this weekend?"

A shrug on his side, pushing the front door closed with a shove of his hips. "Layla", Jeonghan clarified. "Mary was the one from the Christmas party two months ago. Keep up, will you."

"Right, yeah. My bad."

"And yeah... but no. No." His eyes were cast down, a sudden interest in the pattern of the old floorboards, lips pressed into a fine line.

There was no need to explain any further than the look on his face. Layla had been sweet from what you remembered. Maybe even one of your favourites in the long line of girls, he'd introduced you to in the past year or so. "Shit, I'm sorry, Hannie. You okay?"

A non committal shrug. "Oh well, what can you do."

Sometimes you found yourself envying Jeonghan's tumultuous love life. No matter how fun the conversations or how good the sex was, he always put himself first. Because why spend too much time agonizing over someone who yearns for fundamentally different things in life? I'm not one to waste a girl's time, Jeonghan had told you after a particular rough breakup. At the very most, he found his pride wounded - But he always managed to bounce back regardless.

Your love life stood in stark contrast to his.

"Before I forget", Jeonghan shuffled next to you, head pointing to your phone on the kitchen counter. "Ya got a missed call - If it's my sister again, asking about her computer, tell her to shoo."

Rolling your eyes, you huffed out a breathless laugh, slipping your jacket off your shoulders as you made your way to the kitchen. You grabbed your blinking phone, notifying you of 'two missed calls' in the last hour. "Why do I have to be the middle man between you guys?", you frowned at the unknown number glaring at you. "Who the fuck..."

Quick to change the subject, Jeonghan hopped onto the corner, peaking over your shoulder. "Oooo, is someone in trouble?", he teased, practically glowing at the opportunity for mischief. "Or is it the guy from Mingyu's thing? Did you give him your number or did he-"

"Oh! I completely forgot- Oh fuck, what if it's him?" It wasn't that he'd actually slipped your mind after your encounter, you were just convinced that after a week - nine days to be exact - that'd be a clear indicator of his lack of interest. The sting of rejection would definitely hurt less by trying to erase him from your memory. "Should I text him? Call back? What if it isn't even him? Oh my god, Hannie! What the fuck should I do?"

Relishing in your flustered state, your roommate gloated. "Text back. If it's actually him, then he has some nerve calling after two weeks of radio silence. Bad move."

"It hasn't even been two weeks."

"So?" Jeonghan raised his brows, tilting his head to the side. "And let him explain himself, that could be funny."

Getting an explanation did sound rather tempting. But wouldn't that seem too much? You hadn't told Mingyu about Wonwoo hitting on you, moreso focused on praising his artworks and all the hard work he put into the Vernissage. So, you were still just as clueless about him as you'd been the day you met him.

Undeniably, there was something exciting about it all. The only thing that served as a connection between you being a mutual friend, but other than that? You were still completely oblivious about him - what he did as a job, where he's from, what his last name is. Your nerves tingled at the thrill of it, all previous exhaustion shed, teeth sinking into the flesh of your cheeks.

"I'd offer to call him instead, but I have a feeling he'll be able to tell it's not you on the other end of the line."

You started laughing at the thought alone, shoving him playfully. "I'm having a crisis, stop being funny!"

A few of Han's ex girlfriends, and even some of your own ex flings, had very readily complained about the bond you shared with each other. You weren't one to blame them for assuming - even though they couldn't be more wrong. There had never even a figment of a moment, where you even considered starting a romantic connection. Jeonghan wasn't your type and you weren't his either, no doubt about that.

"No, you know what? Fuck it", you sighed, your roommate hollering in response, celebrating your newfound courage. Without wasting any more thought, you pressed on the phone number, thumbs forming a quick sentence.

[y/n - 13:11] hi, sorry who is this?

Glancing over your shoulder to the text you'd typed out, Jeonghan could barely contain a snort. "Aw, I was hoping you'd call."

"Next time I'll just force you to imitate-", your eyes went wide as the screen turned black, phone buzzing in your hand. With one last panicked glance at a way too giddy friend, you pressed 'accept' with sweaty fingers.

"Hello, y/n speaking."

"Ah- Hi. This is Wonwoo", the vaguely familiar timber of his voice, almost made you gasp out in delight, heart already aching from all the anxiety and delight. Upon your reaction, Han shuffled even closer towards you, set on listening in on your conversation. "Mingyu's friend?", Wonwoo added after some brief silence.

"Yeah! Hi, yeah I remember! I was kinda being stupid and and left my phone, while I was out..." You hated how nervous you sounded, even to your own ears, looking for excuses when he was the one who kept you waiting. Your roommate seemed to share the sentiment, his glare way too reminiscent of a teacher scolding his student for a stupid question.

"No, please. It's...", he trailed off. "Actually, can you give me moment? I'll be right with you." The other line went quiet for a moment, aside from the sound of papers rustling. Was he at work? What kind of office work might he be doing? If he was yet another finance bro, you'd lose the number as soon as possible. You heard a soft voice mumble something next to your Mystery Man, asking him - or rather a certain 'Mr Jeon'- to sign some document.

Next to you, Jeonghan's head snapped toward you in an instance, eyes wide as he mouthed to you 'Jeon Wonwoo?' in absolute shock. Confusion was plastered all across your face, nodding your head to the unspoken question. "What?", you asked, keeping your voice barely above a whisper. Instead of providing you an answer, he pulled out his own phone, thumbs furiously typing away into the Google search bar.

"Hi again. So sorry, I'm still at the office", you almost jumped at Wonwoo's voice, sounding oh so husky and tired so close to your ear.

The smile tugging on your lips was involuntary, yet still very evident. "No worries."

He cleared his throat. "I know it's been a while, but I was wondering-", Jeonghan shoved his phone into your face, making you blink. Oh. Oh. His device displayed a very professional looking photograph of the same handsome looking man you'd met at Mingyu's Vernissage - hair just as dark, same glasses on his nose. Though what caught your eye next was the headline above his head, reading in big bold letters 'Jeon Wonwoo's rise to success! Son of Billionaire Dynasty shares his Secrets'. You felt the blood drain from your face, thoughts spinning a thousand miles an hour as you tried to process what you've read without a total mental breakdown. This couldn't be real, right? This must be some sick and twisted joke Hannie was playing on you to get back at you for something, you'd already forgotten anyway. There was no way that-

"Y/N?", you snapped back into reality, mouth feeling dryer than ever. "Still there? Should I call back another time?"

"Mhm, yeah!", you squeaked. "M- My roommate is just being annoying - What were you saying?"

Han's shock warped into sheer amusement, body shaking with the laughter he tried to muffle by pressing his palm against his mouth. You, on the other hand, felt like you were on the verge of a very serious mental breakdown. "I said, I'd like to take you out for a coffee", he repeated himself again. "I have a proposal, I'd like to talk to you about."

'A proposal?' Your eyes shot back to your friend, as if he'd magically know the details to Wonwoo's request. "Yeah, I- Sure", you willed your voice to stay as steady as possible, trying to ignore the slight waver in tone.

"Can you do today at five? I'll text you the details, of course." You couldn't stand how casual he sounded, compared to you. Was this a regular thing for him? Picking up women left and right? Paying them to hook up with him? Oh god, was he going to pay you to hook up with him? Was he one of those rich perverts, trying to indulge in some weird, funky kinks with no name people like you? You felt like crying.

"C- can we do six? I'm all sweaty", cringing at your own statement, you winced. "... From the workout. I was working out. If you couldn't tell."

And despite all the worries and anxiety, your heart still leapt, when you heard him chuckle into his phone, heat radiating off your face. "I'll choose to believe you for now. Should we do dinner instead?"

"Sounds great!" Jeonghan grabbed your shoulder, almost vibrating with joy.

"I'll text you the details - See you there?"

"Yep! Bye!" With the press of a shaky finger, you hung up.

The silence that followed was deafening, you and your friend staring at each other as though the other had grown a second head. Your nerves felt fried just from the phone conversation alone, your mind overwhelmed with every little emotion that had passed through you. Physical exhaustion had nothing on the numb feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach. "Fuck", Jeonghan was the first to speak, his smile almost manic. "I can't believe, you're going to become a Sugar Baby."

"I'm going to die, Hannie! Die! What the fuck?! Why did I agree to this?!" Your body slumped into the kitchen counter, pressing your damp forehead against the cool granite.

"Because you're a smart independent lady, who knows an opportunity when she sees one", You could practically hear the smile in his voice. "Now get dolled up, babe, if you're lucky we don't have to pay rent anymore."

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Stiff fingers clutched the cool metal of your spoon, nervously shifting in your seat. Your lipgloss coated lips stretching into a shy smile, whenever you felt Wonwoo's eyes linger on you a second too long. This means nothing, you tried to remind yourself, ignoring the searing in your chest.

Jeonghan had tried his very best to convince you to go all on out with your outfit and makeup choices. And while you understood his motivation, you'd known how cheap you'd feel by trying to look fuckable enough for your date to pay for you. Date... If that is, what you could call it. "Mingyu's told me a lot about you", he said

"You asked him about me?" You noticed his ears turn a shade of pink as he shook his head, smiling. "You came up naturally."

Your shoulders tensed up, glancing downward to avoid any scrutiny or judgement. By all means, it shouldn't come to you as a surprise that Mingyu had mentioned you. He had seemed quite excited to see you attend his event, his enthusiasm a bright beacon of joy. You had no right to feel ashamed - or to hope Wonwoo didn't think any less of you for ghosting your mutual friend for years for some petty, personal feelings. But still, there was growing discomfort - Or was it shame? - within you that was only hard to ignore.

"Well? Do I need to plan his very brutal murder or send him a thank you letter?", you joked half heartedly.

That earned you yet another smile. You could really get used to the sight. "He told me about your art, actually. Showed me a few of your paintings too."

Your spoon hit the the edge of your plate with a loud 'clank', cheeks feeling way too hot as you gawked at him. "M- My paintings?" Whatever you'd expected to hear him say tonight, commenting on your artwork had somehow completely eluded your imagination. Instead, a myriad of horrors had played non-stop in your mind, doing its best to convince you, that this evening would either end with you murdered or, even worse, heartbroken.

"Come on, you're looking at me like I just told you pigs could fly", Wonwoo chuckled, both his tone and his gaze soft. "I liked them quite a lot."

"Oh", you muttered. "Thank you. I just... didn't expect him to mention my art."

"Artists are quick to recognize each other, I've found." Your eyes were fixed on his face then, a knowing smirk playing on the edge of his lips, as he shoveled another bite of his steak into his mouth. The compliment reached your heart first, engulfing you in a warm ray of light, while you could only nod in response. An insufficient form of gratitude, though Wonwoo didn't seem to mind. "How come you're so sassy and confident but turn shy at any genuine compliment?"

"I just don't respond well to cocky flirting. Bad habit, I guess?", you decided to play bold, having grown tired of the timid anxiety plaguing you.

But your partner seemed to be familiar with that game, your defiance only causing him to deepen his smirk. "Bad habits do die hard."

Raising your glass to your lips to mask your smile, you let him have his little moment of victory. Even if short lived. The back and forth was invigorating for sure - A welcome change, compared to all the boring dates you'd been on with men you hadn't even liked in the first place. You exhaled through your nose at the reminder alone. "But back on topic", Wonwoo adjusted his glasses. "Am I correct in assuming, you're not a full time artist?"

The wine tasted bitter to your tongue, making it hard to swallow it down. "Hm- No, unfortunately not."

"I see", he hummed. "I don't know if Mingyu's mentioned my line of work..."

This wasn't a line of questions you'd expected on a date. Business proposal? Your head felt too heavy on your shoulders, as your fingers ran over the neckline of your too tight dress. "Hannie- I mean um. My roommate told me."

Something dark flashed in his eyes, before he continued on. "Then you must also be aware of my financial status."

You nodded. "I am, yeah."

"Good. Spares me all the explaining", he joked, without much humor. "I'd like to sponsor you."

Your shoulders slumped, fingers, still toying with the fabric of your dress, going stiff all of a sudden. This wasn't just the wine talking, was it? "Oh."

This was a once in your life time opportunity, Jeonghan would never hear the end of it. This was everything you had spent nights crying over, thinking life was just so unfair. This could be everything to you. But then, why was it, that you felt like submerging your head in water, until you'd stop breathing? You were supposed to to be happier than this. Thankful too. Weren't you?

"Shit- I'm sorry, sponsor me?", you leaned toward Wonwoo, scanning for any trace of mockery or jest in his expression. "I don't wanna seem unappreciative but- You really want to sponsor me? There's a catch, right? There has to be."

Crossing his long legs, he didn't seem to shy away from your curiosity, not one to be intimidated easily. It did make sense - A business man, confronted with cutthroat competition on a daily, wouldn't really feel intimidated by some nervous no-name artist. The image of him posing on the cover of some important magazine surfaced in your mind again. "Ah, it's probably wiser to not trust offers like this at first, I can't blame you," He leaned forward in his seat. "My motivation's simple. I think you have great potential - You're a pretty lady with a lot of talent. I'd like to see you taken care of."

"Like some kind of sugar daddy?", the realization of your question hit you like a truck. your face feeling heated as you pressed your lips together, as though you could stop yourself from further embarrassment by physically silencing yourself.

Wonwoo, to your luck, merely grinned at the questions. "I mean- if you'd like that to be my official title, we can arrange that."

"Stop making fun of me!", you huffed with a pout on your lips, giggles threatening to burst past your lips. "Or- Are you not joking? Is this like a Shades of Grey fetish thing?"

"Listen", his voice fell into a hushed tone, fixing you with his gaze alone. "I'd like to spend more time with you - Doesn't mean that I'll give you a couple hundred everytime you flash me."

Spend more time with you? It felt unnecessarily difficult to think straight with his face being so close to your own, the dark brown in his eyes so alluring and warm. Gnawing on the inside of your cheeks, you furrowed your brows. It'd be a lie to say, you wouldn't like you two to grow closer. Why hope for a relationship, when this was the more sensible - more lucrative - way for you? No hurt feelings and no more financial struggles. Why hesitate? Jeonghan would kill you, if he were aware that you had any doubts about the deal. "So... You'd pay me to spend time with you? And to paint?"

"I'm not going to force you to spend time with me, if that's your question."

"No, I mean", it would prove to be an impossible task not to flush as you continued on, "This is something... not physical then? A business deal, only?"

And for the first time this evening, it was you that rendered Wonwoo speechless as he paused, his smirk slowly fading away. Instead of the self assured art snob and business man you've come to know, he appeared almost timid, insecure even, his ears blooming a pretty shade of pink. "Deals are... less complicated", his voice trailed off, gaze unfocused, sipping on his wine. "But no, this can be whatever you'd like it to be. Whatever you're comfortable with. I'd merely want to support you, if you allow me."

He was right, you knew that he was. Businesses and contracts might be a language you weren't acquainted with, but you knew the heartache of failed relationships all too well. And even if Wonwoo apparently wasn't one to kiss and tell, he seemed to be no stranger to that pain. The quiet chatter of the restaurant felt so distant in this moment. His fingers felt warm as his pinky brushed against your own, his eyes searching yours. "What do you say?", he asked, both his hands and his tone so very careful.

This was supposed to be easier, why did the words taste so heavy in your mouth? A reluctant smile, but bright nontheless. "I'd like that."

His eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." What could go wrong?

#wonwoo x reader #wonu x reader #svt x reader #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fluff #wonu smut #wonu fluff #listen ik this is neither fluff nor smut really i just have no idea how to tag this one #svt smut #seventeen x reader

[gemini-sensei]

Selfish | Eli Moskowitz x Chubby!Reader ft. Kyler Park

Kinktober Day 14: husband/wife swap cucking, I think. More so cheating oops.

CW: cheating on spouse, Kyler is a crap husband tho, Reader is a boss ass bitch that doesn't take shit from her shitty husband, unprotected sex. (unedited).

A/N: I had this idea and idk what happened to it. I feel like the execution sucks.

"You are so selfish!"

Kyler scoffed and rolled his eyes as if Reader were being unreasonable. He got up from their bed and started walking to the bathroom. "I'm not listening to this again."

She glared at the back of his head. "You wouldn't have to if you'd just give me what I want. I ask for one thing, good sex, and you even give me that. You're such a loser!"

"Don't call me that!" He yelled, but didn't say anything else. He just slammed and locked the door like the immature adult he was. It made Reader roll her eyes, feeling as though it was her turn now. Then he shouted an after thought, "And if it's so damn important to you, you deal with it!"

Reader sat with her head in her hands, wondering how she'd gotten to this point in her life. Telling herself Kyler wasn't such a bad guy after being in Cobra Kai with him was a good place to start. Thinking he'd get better at sex over time was delusional. And finally, picking him over anyone else was probably where she'd gone the most wrong. She couldn't help feeling like an idiot as she sat there, unfilled but too upset at her husband to do anything about it.

There was a box of toys hidden in the guest room, where she'd probably drag herself to sleep for the night, but they weren't calling out to her. Sure, her vibratory could fix the hollow, gnawing feeling she had in her gut, but it wasn't going to make her husband see that he was a selfish prick that only used her to get off. She needed something more. Something better.

As she grabbed her robe and slipped it on, her phone buzzed. It was an Instagram notification telling her someone had tagged her in one of their pictures. She opened it as she walked down to the guest room, smiling to herself as she saw a picture of herself from her high school graduation. She was standing in a group between Moon and Sam, arms wrapped around each other with big smiles on their faces. Also in the photo, Miguel, Demetri, Yasmine and Hawk. It was captioned, Can't believe it's been five years since we graduated! #memories.

Typical Moon, Reader thought to herself with a small smile.

She walked into the guest room and locked the door, knowing Kyler would come annoying her at some point. She just ignored his entire existence in their home and looked through the pictures Moon had posted. So she crawled into bed and let her worries drift away.

As she came to the end of the photos, she saw herself with Hawk, laughing. Their caps were crooked and they were holding each other's diplomas, a funny little scene they thought would make a good picture. It was really nice and made her chuckle, but more importantly it made her think of him.

They'd had a spark at one point but never pursued it. At a New Year's party, They'd shared a kiss but left it at that. For a while, their friendship was marred by karate and warring dojos, all of which had been resolved before graduation, thankfully. However, she couldn't sit there in good conscience and say she didn't regret not taking that leap of faith. She couldn't help thinking she'd be a lot happier if she were with Hawk instead of Kyler.

Turning over and putting her head on the pillow her final thoughts were along the lines of how getting married young had been a terrible idea. And perhaps it wasn't too late to take a longshot.

It took Reader a week to work up the courage to talk to Hawk about what they possibly had going on after high school. It wasn't as if they hadn't talked to each other since then, but most of their conversations weren't long or deep. They we're more like check in, little congratulations when they celebrated something on social media, asking how they were after a tough week. They weren't all that special, but Reader found them to be nice looking back now. It was more than Kyler gave her after all.

Hawk met her at a little café downtown during their lunch breaks. She was sipping a latte when he sat down and smiled at her. She was happy to see he still had his mohawk.

"Long time, no see," he joked.

She smiled. "Certainly feels that way."

They hadn't met up in a while, which was why it was a little awkward at first. At least for her.

She didn't know how to go about asking him out while her husband was a grade A asshole. Would he even still like her as a friend if she made a move on him? Was she going about this all wrong?

She wanted to say this was all about pleasure and that she could go back to Kyler when she got what she needed, but in the back of her mind she knew that wasn't true. As she got into deep conversation with Hawk, she knew whatever feelings she'd had for Kyler were no longer a raging fire as they seemingly were before. Hawk made her laugh and asked her about her day so far, which was far more than her husband ever gave to her. She was smiling more with Hawk in thirty minutes than she ever had with Kyler in the last three years.

It gave her some hope.

So Reader reached over and put her hand on Hawk's. He looked at her, staying quiet as she stared back at him with soft eyes and a pretty smile. "Thanks for meeting me. I know it was kind of short notice, but it means a lot to me."

He smiled at her. "Of course. I'd drop everything for you, Reader. You know that."

She giggled, wondering how true that was.

"What's on your mind?"

"I just... I've been having second thoughts..."

"About what?"

"Kyler." His name came out in a heavy sigh, almost as if it was a weight she carried with her everywhere and she was exhausted.

"Oh." He didn't pull his hand away. "You know, I always kinda hoped you'd say something like that."

She tried to hide her smile now. "Really?"

He leaned forward as of about to tell her a secret. "Yeah, really. He doesn't deserve you."

"Is this where you say, I told you so?" she asked, remembering their friends having warned her about Kyler. How he hadn't changed, how he wasn't kind, how he didn't care. She tried not to think about those things as Hawk's lips drew closer.

He shook his head. "No, I'm not gonna say that. I'm just gonna..."

He finished leaning in and kissee her, capturing her lips with his and she melted into it immediately. She was a moth to his flame and she didn't feel and ounce of guilt for it.

It lasted all of five, maybe six, seconds before they pulled away from each other. Then she moved closer to him and they resumed their kiss, making it deeper and wrapping each other up in their arms. Their coffees were mostly forgotten about as they indulged in each other with a long overdue second chance.

"You sure this is how this how it's supposed to go?" Kyler asked as he watched Reader turn the little key in the little lock. He stared down at the new toy shed gotten, the one she swore was going to feel amazing, but he was beginning to question her judgment.

The cockcage wasn't as nice as she said it was going to be. It was cold and strange. As she took the key, which was hanging from a small chain link, and put it around her neck, he wasn't so sure about this. If he wanted to do anything about it, it was too late now. She'd also cuffed his hands behind his back and the position he sat in wasn't the most comfortable. He was beginning to sense things weren't going the way he thought they would.

Reader scoffed. "I already told you, babe, this is gonna be awesome." She turned around and made her way over to their bed, quietly muttering, "for me at least."

"What was that?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing," she giggled and crawled onto the bed. She had her box of toys out and picked up her pretty vibrator, showing it off to him. The tone in the air quickly changed. "This is who I went to when you couldn't finish me off."

He glared at her, trying to remain serious as he ogled lingerie clad body. He'd never admit it out loud, but she knew he loved her curves and rolls. He acted like he hated them because that was the "manly" thing to do, that people didn't actually like big women, it was all a show. He didn't want to present himself that way, so he hid it from everyone else. But he couldn't hide it from her. Too bad he already fucked up their marriage.

"That's not fair," he argued.

She pouted at him, not feeling too bad. "You're right, babe. It isn't fair. To me. I shouldn't need this fella."

Reader turned on her toy and it buzzed to life. She continued to show it off to him, making sure he saw it.

"It also isn't fair how you use me like a glorified fleshlight. I mean, come on, I've got all the natural advantages a man could ever dream of and you can't indulge me one bit," she said, letting out a dramatic sigh. She then laid back and spread her legs, pulling her panties aside and making sure her pussy was on full display for him to see from the chair she'd sat him on. "It's not fair that only you get pleasure when we have sex."

She brought the vibrator to her pussy and rubbed it along her already wet fold, spreading that wetness. She moaned into the stiff air, breathing new life into the room as she continued to torture him with the image of her. His whining brought a smirk to her lips as she used her other hand to spread her folds and teased her slit with the toy.

"A fucking toy is better than you!" she moaned, feeling the vibrations over her sensitive lips.

Then the bedroom door opened.

"Man, that must be embarrassing," a new voice said.

Kyler looked up, confused. "The fuck are you doing here?"

Reader sat up but kept playing with herself. She smiled at Hawk as he stood in the doorway in nothing but his boxers. "Well, Kyler, honey, you told me if sex and satisfaction was so important to me, I should deal with it myself. So Hawk is here to help me with that."

"That wasn't what I meant!" Kyler shouted.

"Well, why do you care? You didn't before," she said, giving an exaggerated pout.

Hawk walked over and took the vibe from her, taking over. He pushed it into her but barely, teasing her with it. She moaned, laying back on the mattress. However he didn't do that for long before taking the toy and turning it off, then tossed it aside. As he started crawling onto the bed, Kyler made a fuss.

"Hey! Hey, what d'you think you're doing?" he huffed from the corner. He struggled against his restraints but it was useless. She'd made sure to lock them tight, knowing he was going to whine and complain about it later. "That's my wife!"

Hawk scoffed, turning to look at Kyler with an unamused look. "I don't think she really wants to be your wife anymore, since you don't treat her right."

"I give her everything she wants, man. I've got all the money she could want. I mean, what the fuck do you have that I don't?"

"Well, first of all, you're not even listening to her now," Hawk said, gesturing to Reader as she laid out so pretty on the bed. He got an eyeful of her, licking his lips before turning back to Kyler. "She doesn't care about your money. Money can't buy her pleasure. Not like this."

He then went on to push his boxers off, revealing his thick, long cock. It sprung free and smacked his stomach, making his groan. He then grabbed himself and started fishing his cock. "This is what a woman deserves. A nice orgasm from a real cock."

Kyler shut up and looked away from Hawk, feeling a little emasculated. Before him was not only a guy he'd bullied the shit out of in high school, but he was also someone that had beat him up too. Now he was here, in his house with his wife, and he had a bigger cock than him too. If only he saw the way it wasn't about who had the bigger dick but about which one of them actually cared for Reader, but his skull was too thick for him to understand something as simple as that. Instead, all he saw was himself losing again with his aching cock locked in a stupid cage.

Hawk turned to Reader with a brash, unapologetic smile. She gave it back to him before slipping her panties off and tossing them aside. He licked his lips and crawled onto the bed foregoing eating her out because he wanted to make sure she came on his cock. She didn't mind.

They kissed each other hungrily, Reader wrapping her arms around him and pulling him against her. Soft tits met his hardened, lean chest and rubbed against her nipples. It made her shudder and gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. One of his hands traveled down her front in the meantime, feeling her up and giving her belly a nice squeeze. Then hisnfingers brushed her folds and she sighed into his mouth, needy and ready for him.

He barely pulled away from her to speak. His voice came out raspy and husky. "Gonna make you feel so good, you won't even know what to do with yourself."

He sent shivers down her spine and her cunt throbbed with need. She was so deprived of good sex, she could hardly wait for him anymore. Just his words made her wet and by the time he led the tip of his cock to her pussy, she was soaked.

Her head fell back as he pushed into her, but she whined when he stopped halfway only to let out a gasp as he pushed her knees into the mattress. Now she was all splayed out and open for him, and for Kyler to see just what Hawkndid to make her feel so good. He continued to push into her after that, bottoming out a moment later and stilling again to let her adjust.

"Oh my god," she moaned, looking up at him. "So big."

"I know, you're not used to all this, huh?" He said, a little teasing. His thumb came down on her clit and rubbed little circles onto it to help loosen her up. "Let me take care of you."

After a moment of him playing with her clit, he started thrusting in and out of her tight cunt. Her moans overpowered the pouty whines and struggles from the corner of the room, making her forget all about her spineless husband in the corner. She was instead thrust into a world of pleasure given to her by none other than Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz, aka the guy she should have married.

He put one of her legs over his shoulder and used his free hand to play with her tits, pulling on them and pinching her nipples. He even smacks one, watching the way it bounced with the impact and force of his thrusts. Under him, she was divine and godly. She looked so pretty, eyes screwed shut as she moaned his name. Her nails dug into his waist as she tried to stay grounded in reality, but he planned on taking her to a whole other plain of pleasure.

Behind him, Kyler cursed up a storm. He called them all sorts of names and told them they were fucked for this. He mostly spat at Hawk for "stealing his girl" but failed to realize it was his own doing. Reader wasn't satisfied, in more ways than one, in their marriage and it was his own fault. But being Kyler, he'd blame anyone but himself for this happening. Furthermore, he saw Reader as an object more than a person. Their marriage wasn't sentiment, it was a status to him. He looked like a great husband on paper, with a job he got from his dad and a house that had too much space for two people, so he saw nothing wrong with it.

Except for the fact that now his wife was getting fucked by his rival. Hawk had never posed much of a threat, but in Kylers mind he was someone who needed to be constantly put down at one point. Now it was his turn to get knocked off of his high horse.

"Oh my god! Hawk!" Reader all but squealed. Her legs began to shake but his hold on them kept them in place. The earth-shattering orgasm building up was focused there and in her gut, which grew tighter and tighter with each thrust. "Hawk!"

Each time she moaned his name, it encouraged him. He hit that special spot just a little harder too, making her wither under him. He seethed as her nails scratched his back but he took it proudly. It was an honor to get fucked up by her.

"Kiss me," she whimpered, trying to pull him close.

He leaned down, giving her what she wanted. Their lips met in a messy, sloppy kiss as he held her leg to her shoulder, moaning into each other's mouths. His hips began to hit harder against hers, making her ass jiggle under him. Her thighs shook with the pressure of pleasure and she soon tipped over the cliff and dove into the ocean of orgasm.

As soon as he velvet walls stsrted constricting around him, his thrusts stuttered. He fell in after her and his movement became choppy. He came in hot spurts, fucking it into her until he couldn't possibly keep going. Stilling over her, cock buried deep in her cunt, he groaned into her mouth.

He had to pull away for air, panting heavily. However, before he could catch all of his breath, he followed it up by pressing little kisses to her lips. Only after he started to taper off did he remember he was supposed to pull out.

"Holy fuck... fuck... shit, 'm sorry I came in you..." he panted.

She shook her, smiling through the ragged breathing. "Don't be... I fucking loved it."

She kissed him and it quickly deepened. He lowered her leg and laid on top of her, still buried inside her. She moaned as he seemed to sink deeper into her and wrapped her legs around him. He groaned and nipped at her lip, tugging on it teasingly.

They forgot all about Kyler in the corner as they giggled and made out with each other. He sat slouched in his chair, almost sliding out of it if not for planting his feet on the floor, angrily glaring at them. He was red all over, aching in his cage, wishing for the torment to be over. However, he knew it may be a while as the key was sandwiched between Reader's fat tits and Hawk's chest.

#kyler park #eli moskowitz smut #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz x chubby reader #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz headcanons #hawk moskowitz #hawk moskowitz x chubby reader #hawk moskowitz x reader #hawk moskowitz smut #hawk moskowitz headcanons #cobra kai smut #cobra kai #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai x chubby reader #cobra kai x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #cobra kai kyler #gemini sensei #eli hawk moskowitz #kinktober

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Sugar (C)Rush

In which you just wanted to get a quick snack.

Tags/Warnings: Wolf Hybrid!Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, Strangers to crushes is that a thing that's a thing now, Fluff, Safe for work, Flirting, piercing? Jungkook is a piercer and tattoo artist in this oops, insecurities

Length: mid/long

Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Life really has never been kind to you.

You just want to go home with your frozen pizza and icecream, but it doesn't seem to work out tonight, because some evil person had decided to put your favorite flavor of icecream on the highest shelf, far away from your reach. And now? Now you're left staring it down, after having tried to reach it twice, garnering nothing but laughter from a group of young boys, a small flock of tall dog hybrids.

You're a dog hybrid too- but you're no tall and strong dog hybrid. No, you've been born as a 'cute' and floppy-eared little show-hybrid.

Cute? Absolutely not. A mockery, that's what you are.

You huff to yourself and attempt to give up, when a tattooed arm reaches for exactly what you've been eyeing. "That one?" A voice asks, and you nod dumbly, accepting the tub of strawberry and cream goodness from the stranger. And when you turn around to thank the man, you want to disappear.

That has to be the most handsome wolf hybrid you've ever seen in your entire life, all dressed in Calvin Klein while wearing the most charming smile you've ever been given by another being. All while you yourself look like you've just fallen out of bed, absolutely no effort put into your appearance tonight.

"Thanks.." You mumble more or less, spotting how who you assume are his friends walking up to him- and of course, they're just as handsome as he is.

You flee the scene pretty much, hurrying to pack your things outside when you notice his slightly flowery scent close to you again. "Hey- just wanted to apologize for my friends. They weren't laughing about you, promise." He tells you, visibly sorry.

"Its fine." You shrug, squishing your things into the paperbag, until it rips, box of pizza and other things tumbling to the floor, all while thunder rumbles in the sky, first drops of rain pattering onto the ground.

You're pretty close to crying now. Today the universe is truly testing you, and you're not up for the tournament this time.

"Ah, hyung, can you give me that please?" The wolf asks his packmate, who gives him the white plastic bag leftover. "Here.. is your home far? You should hurry so you don't get caught in that weather." The young man says calmly as he packs your stuff for you, carefully making sure this time it'll all stay in, before he gives it to you.

"Its fine." You just mumble. "Thanks." You nod, before hurrying away from the guy.

You feel awful about it- but it's better than having to suffer the embarrassment any longer.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"And so we meet again." The wolf hybrid chuckles impishly to himself as he invites you into his workspace where he'll be piercing you today, your cheeks reddening in shame as you remember him as well. "Even cuter than last time." He comments, walking in behind you. There's soft, slow music playing in the background, and a faint smell of incense having been burned maybe. It's a lot different from Taehyung's space, even though he works in the exact same shop here.

Taehyung, your best friend, had promised you a piercing for free on your birthday. But every time he was free, you wouldn't be- work constantly coming in between you and any attempt at scheduling an appointment. So today, he'd simply offered someone else to do it- quote: 'actually, he's gonna be a lot more gentle than I'd ever be with you'.

So this wolf hybrid you couldn't get out of your head this past week, is named Jungkook. The mystery piercer that you've always heard of, but that you've never seen in person before.

"Tae said we'll be putting some jewelry through your belly button?" He asks, or rather states while he desinfects his equipment, putting on gloves. "Did you choose something already?" He wonders, and you nod.

"Uhm.. Tae said he.. had ordered something, I don't know.." you mumble, and Jungkook crouches a bit down to your height before he leans in playfully.

"Listen, these ears might be big-" he comments, wiggling his black wolf ears between his wild locks of hair, "- but I can't hear you if you talk down to the floor, puppy."

What an ironic nickname.

"I said Tae ordered something." You snap back a little louder, and he laughs brightly at that, shaking his head-

His tail wagging.

"You're so cute." He comments to himself. "Yeah I knew, just wanted to tease you. Can you get up from the chair for me? I wanna mark the spot." He asks, and you do as he says, slipping down from the chair to stand in front of him. "Can I?" He asks when his hands lift your shirt, and you nod without thinking- pulse racing soon however as he not only lifts your shirt, but tucks it right underneath the underside of your bra.

And considering his smirk, he knows exactly what he's doing.

Right now, he switches into a more professional mood though, one knee resting on the floor while his palms sometimes adjust your hips for him, something that doesn't go past you at all. Your curled tail is hard to keep from wagging every time he moves you around, something inside you awakening like some odd kink you never knew you had. "There. Is that okay?" He asks, scooting away a little so you can look at yourself in the mirror.

You nod- trusting him in his judgment fully.

"Not much of a talker, hm?" Jungkook says calmly, picking up his equipment before wiping the area down with a disinfectant wipe.

"Hm just.. I don't know.." you mumble to yourself. "Awkward."

"Doesn't have to be." He smiles kindly. "Taehyung told me you're an artist?" He asks, and you shrug.

"I'm.. not sure if you could call it that." You simply answer, when he pats the seat again for you to lay down on. "I'm a concept designer for.. like, video games." You simply explain quietly, stiffening up a little once the wolf picks up the more scary looking tools.

"Thats so cool though." Jungkook praises as he makes sure to place the clamp properly. "Deep breath." He offers, and you do as he says, becoming a bit uncomfortable for a moment as he guides the needle through. "Almost done. You're doing great." He kindly says, clearly trying to make it quick as he places the metal piercing and screws the ball onto it so it stays in place. "And done! You can get up and take a look at it now." He excitedly tells you, tail wagging behind him as he watches you examine his work.

"I like it." You nod. "Its perfect." You smile, and he nods in satisfaction, before he picks up a bandaid to cover it for now.

"You've got the care sheet with you, but in case anything happens, I'll give you my number alright?" He asks, and you nod easily as you pull down your shirt again, offering your phone for him to put your number into his contacts. "And uh.." he smiles awfully impish as he saves the contact and sends you a message so you have his own as well. "You can totally text me for anything else too." The wolf tells you. "Unless there's a boyfriend..?"

"I-" you suddenly realize what he's implying. "Boyfriend? Me? I- no I, haha no, I don't have one.." you shake your head, a bit more than just flustered by his blunt ways of getting closer to you.

"Damn I was almost one hundred percent sure you'd be taken-" he laughs to himself, still grinning at you. "-but, I'm a lucky guy I guess." He offers, and you shrug a bit.

"I mean.. I don't know-" you say, unsure. "-I'm.. not really up for uh.. you know, hookups or stuff like that.."

"Oh no no no, I'm sorry if I made it seem like that." He immediately clears up. "I'm more interested in getting to know you, really. We could hang out sometimes, talk a little, maybe we'll click, who knows." He explains his intentions.

"...why?" You ask, and he seems a bit more serious now, realizing that your past experiences can't have been very good if you're this reserved with someone trying to get to know you like he does.

"Why not?" He offers. "You're cute. Very pretty, in my opinion. Now I just gotta find out if you can handle me, and if I can handle you, easy." The wolf shrugs.

"..you sure?" You ask. "I'm a dog."

"Canine hybrid." He corrects jokingly. "And so am I."

"People will laugh." You argue more.

"If that makes them happy." Jungkook answers, not letting go.

"...Ok" you agree at that, jumping over your own shadow.

Maybe.. maybe he's not that bad.

Maybe this could all work out.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine

[agendabymooner]

jollibee, madrid and all that romance fiasco ! oscar p. x ofc (filipino!gen z!ofc)

summary: carlos sainz and his wife, magda, were heading back to spain after taking her and her cousins to the final race before the summer break. they hoped to have a decent break but their wishes were long gone as soon as the mclaren drivers told them about their plans to spend their week in madrid - where the couple conveniently lived.

OR oscar piastri had the fattest crush on magda's cousin, paloma 'lomi' san pedro, and needless to say, he wasn't even making it less obvious as he purchased a ticket to madrid just so he could spend his time with her. was he only looking for that summer romance or did he just fall in love with carlos' in-law?

content warning: use of explicit language, oscar and ofc shitting on each other, tagalog dialogues and translation ahead (i'm not as good as i used to be at speaking it, sorry lads), carlos sainz x ofc, mentions of alcohol use, fictional brother character (niño san pedro), carlos has a close relationship with his in-laws, A LOT OF JOLLIBEE, lando norris and oscar piastri being cultured (filipino), filo humour, lowkey protective!carlos

note: melody is in progress and i gotta let this out because i've been looking at too much unhinged filipino memes today. enjoy xx

masterlist

tagged carlossainzjr, charles_leclerc, landonorris, monamagdalena, ninojames

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, charles_leclerc

monamagdalena "rich in-law" 😭 liked by lomisanpedro

carlossainzjr you weren't "forced" to wear my number 🙄 get it right hermana liked by lomisanpedro

lomisanpedro ur right. i asked for charles' number and they just conveniently "ran out" of my size 🤔

landonorris look at that handsome man in papaya and black tho 🥵 liked by lomisanpedro

lomisanpedro i'm gonna pretend i haven't seen this comment 😕

landonorris guys i think she's a charles leclerc fan liked and pinned by lomisanpedro

oscarpiastri i have a lot of oscar piastri shirts in your size 😊 liked by lomisanpedro

ninojames what 😄

lomisanpedro how do u know my size 🧐

oscarpiastri i've been looking, observing and mentally measuring

carlossainzjr oscarpiastri compadre do you wanna repeat what you just said?

landonorris don't mind me i'm just watching 🍿🥤

logansargeant so you're the girl he's ogling throughout the week??? liked by lomisanpedro

lomisanpedro and you're the florida boy? 🤓

logansargeant fair enough. nice to meet you though 🤠

lomisanpedro likewise sarge 🤠

carlossainzjr posted a new story !!!

tagged ninojames, lomisanpedro, landonorris, oscarpiastri, carlossainzjr

liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, georgerussell63

user1 i just know it hits different spending your vacation in a filipino-spanish household 😭 liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena there's a lot of "ordinary" volume arguments that's for sure 😅

user2 rip oscar's vocal chords. i know it's barely there but it must've abandoned him the moment the sainz-san pedros pulled up the karaoke liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena landonorris might have slipped some tequila to get the party going for oscar 🙃

mclarenf1 lando we taught you better than this

landonorris mclarenf1 what happened to "one more shot lando!"

mclarenf1 i don't like these accusations, lando.

user3 i can just imagine lando, carlos and oscar yelling "THAT'S NOT HOW DRS WORKS" at your cousins lmfaooo 🤣 liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena yeah my cousins live to give carlitos a headache every once in a while - seeing as they live in philippines and all

carlossainzjr we should have a daycare, mi corazon, because we don't get paid enough for this liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena i agree bebe, if anything we lose more than we earn money 🥲

ninojames stop lying to me carlossainzjr you literally helped me get my tourist visa because you said "you wanted to see your favourite cousin"

lomisanpedro oop- lemme just send this to caco rq 🤭

carlossainzjr ay lomisanpedro you do that, i'm not gonna set up the ac in your room 😒 see how long you'll withstand the heat in spain

lomisanpedro i live in ph but yes po master 😇

lomisanpedro if i have to go golfing one more time, i'm gonna hit you with the club landonorris carlossainzjr ninojames

ninojames speak for urself lmfao

landonorris it's ok i can take it paloma 🤪

carlossainzjr watch your words landonorris

landonorris that's not what i meant ??? 🤬

oscarpiastri barca did good last night no? liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena heheheh carlossainzjr what do you think?

lomisanpedro carlossainzjr you should've shot him in the foot with the paintball when you had the chance 🤡

carlossainzjr i really should have.

landonorris that's tactical and against the fia rules carlos know better.

mclarenf1 yeah what landonorris said ^^

oscarpiastri that is incredibly mean of you, lomisanpedro 🥲

lomisanpedro show me how you cry rq??

tagged landonorris, oscarpiastri, lomisanpedro

liked by carlossainzjr and monamagdalena

monamagdalena putang ina pati pa naman sa spain, y'an pa din kinakain niyo? what the fuck, that's (jollibee) what you guys are still eating even in spain? liked by ninojames

ninojames patingin nga kung pa'no yung galit na mukha ate hahahaha ate, show me how you make an angry face

lomisanpedro ba't ka inggit lmaooooo why are you jealous

monamagdalena hoy lomi at niño, nagluto ako kanina di niyo ba kinain 'yon? i cooked earlier today, didn't you guys eat it?

lomisanpedro maarte yung mga bisita mo madam bertud. your guests are picky, madam bertud.

oscarpiastri monamagdalena I AM NOT picky, do not listen to what that gremlin is telling you

landonorris we ate and even washed the pot of sinigang so that gremlin is lying

lomisanpedro this gremlin is her cousin and how tf do y'all know what we're saying-

landonorris we're very smart men

oscarpiastri i'm a diplomat on the side

carlossainzjr NIÑO YOU AND LANDO JUST RACKED UP OUR BILL FOR DOING THAT TO OUR OVEN 🤬 liked by ninojames

ninojames lando was teaching me his dj skills 😕

carlossainzjr DONT MESS WITH THE OVEN LANDOOOO

landonorris we were trying to get lit 😭 you literally had nothing in there but uno and monopoly wtf were we supposed to do???

carlossainzjr i don't know? not play with fire and not rack up our house bill?

oscarpiastri are we having a filipino language session tomorrow then? liked by ninojames

ninojames with tequila?

oscarpiastri i found their stash so yeah with tequila- we should get some bucket of chickens for the session too :)

landonorris wag puro pulutan, dapat inom din. don't just eat, you have to drink too. liked and pinned by ninojames

lomisanpedro I HAVE TAUGHT YOU WELL, YOUNG PADAWAN 🤩

ninojames monamagdalena rate my teaching skills ate magda

monamagdalena what are you guys teaching these two??? 😭

oscarpiastri the basics magda 😊

INCOMING: dog show 😎 (oscar) SENDER: my pal(oma) 🐝 (paloma)

tagged jollibee, lomisanpedro

liked by carlossainzjr, logansargeant, landonorris

user1 BRO HARD LAUNCHED HIS CRUSH WTF 😭 what god did you pray to?

user2 puro jollibee si bro edi sana nag pinas ka na lang 😭 bro eats a lot of jollibee like you should've just gone to philippines instead

user3 madrid is paloma san pedro, in case you guys didn't know 🤭

landonorris god you are so whipped

mclarenf1 jollibee x mclaren when? 👀

jollibee when there's a philippine grand prix 🐝

ninojames oh so you ditched our session for this? for this ugly ass? liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri we got some palabok and two buckets of chicken joy and we're otw home 😅

ninojames ok maybe i can let you slip for once

lomisanpedro you are so annoying liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri annoyingly considerate when it comes to you because you wanted jollibee this morning 🤭😊

user4 there is too much filipino rizz within pastry guys i think he wins this one

logansargeant was this why you've been rejecting my facetimes today?

oscarpiastri you can wait. jollibee can't.

user5 i'm sorry logan but i agree with him this time

user6 him tagging jollibee 😭 this man is clearly obsessed

bonus !!!

PS the fictional san pedro people

ramona magdalena 'magda' (ibañez) san pedro sainz (carlos' wife)

niño james (balagtas) san pedro (carlos' cousin-in-law)

paloma 'lomi' (balagtas) san pedro (also carlos' in-law)

#formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one x oc #formula one smau #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri fluff #f1 crack #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 social media au #formula one x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 ig au #f1 fiction #f1 fluff #formula 1 instagram au #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic

[barbiewritesstuff]

Strauss blocked : Part 1

---

Am I bad at naming fics? Yes.

Welp this was supposed to be a 2k porn without plot and it turned into 8k words two part series... oops? I just hope it lives up to expectations :)

I just want to thank my bestie @Igg5989 for beta reading (and helping me write) and @ravensmadreads for giving me the inspiration fir this fic.

Tw: this is SMUT, IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 GTFO I DON'T WANT YOU HERE OR ANYWHERE NEAR MY BLOG. Age gap relationship, boss x employee relationship, p in v sex and all that good stuff

Taglist: @feedthemadness-sweetie

---

Section Chief Strauss was many things but when it came to working cases on the field, efficient was not one of them. She had tagged along under the excuse of performing personal performance reviews, assuring the team that she would not be getting in the way. She promised she’d merely be a ‘silent observer’ and to her credit, she had lasted an hour in that role before interjecting in every conversation and second guessing every decision any of you ever made, and because she outranked you all, her will was your command. 

“I think she showed remarkable restraint,” Spencer joked, trying to lighten your souring mood, “I didn’t think she’d last an hour,” he added.

“Did she really have to pull rank when I tried to order breakfast? Like why does she care that I like syrup on my french toast?” you asked, sudden rage exploding out of you with an intensity Spencer could never have predicted, “No, apparently ‘Girls my age won’t be thin and pretty forever, I should watch my diet before my sugar intake starts affecting things’. What a fucking bitch.”

Spencer flinched, “Yikes, I didn’t think she actually said that. I thought you were exaggerating,” he admitted.

“I didn’t even paraphrase,” you replied, looking straight ahead at the investigation board. It had been filled up pretty nicely and evidence has been coming in, but despite knowing all there is to know about the victims, their habits, friends, families and lives, you were not even close to figuring out who he is. 

And that was largely because Section Chief Erin Strauss wouldn’t let you. 

Somehow, she thought that because she couldn’t stand crime scenes and dead bodies, you couldn’t either. It was true that the crime scenes are brutal, and even Morgan came back looking a little greener than when he left, but this was your job. A job she wanted to review your performance for all while not actually letting you out of the station. 

You thought maybe it was because you’re a girl. The only girl currently on the field team because Emily broke her foot and JJ was off for her annual holiday and while Garcia was your constant companion on the phone, you felt like Strauss didn’t actually realise she was a real person. She never said thanks, or please and she kept hanging up while Penelope was still speaking. You took a deep breath, if you weren't careful soon enough you’d be the one they’d have to put behind bars. Or not, because with the way she was behaving you had a feeling Aaron wouldn’t mind giving you a couple of false alibis.

Because as bad as she was with you, she was worse with him. 

He was a good chief, kind and caring when he needed to be but professional and just the right kind of demanding. A few years ago you’d have added a couple more flaws to that descriptions -- bully, drill sergeant, the kind of man who found it easier to trust men than women even if there’s no reason for it -- but he’d grown on you. Your relationship with him has changed. At first he was just a boss, someone you’d go home and complain to your boyfriend about. Then, when Haley asked for a divorce and you got out of your own relationship after finding out your boyfriend wasn’t half as nice as you thought he was, you became friends.

And recently it had changed again. 

You had finally managed to schedule a night out with the girls after unsuccessfully trying to find a date for the seventh time that month. It had been fun, you had all danced, drunk and chatted until the early hours of the morning before calling it quits and returning home. Which is where you had been when Hotch happened to be walking by, or rather, you had been in front of your home when he happened to be walking by. You almost didn’t recognise him, he had shed the usual work suit for a casual pair of jeans and a nice shirt. 

“Hi,” he said, clearly not expecting to see anyone he knew so late -- or early -- in the day.

“Hi,” you replied hesistantly, not wanting to betray just how tipsy you were even as you swayed by your door

“You okay?” he asked, “Not too cold?” he added, helpfully pointing towards your dress. You looked down to see what you meant. Looking to have a good time and maybe bring someone home, you hadn’t dressed particularly sensibly for the time of year. In fact, you had chosen the shortest dress you owned, a golden number that showed off plenty of cleavage and left nothing to the imagination. 

You looked up, horrified to see him smirking.

“I -- err -- I locked myself out,” you said, hoping to get yourself out of that awkward moment by changing the subject.

“I don’t live too far away, you can sleep over. We’ll call a locksmith in the morning,” he offered.

“It’s okay,” you assured him.

Hotch frowned at you, “I’m not having you become one of those girls on Dateline,” he countered. You knew he wouldn’t force you, but if you refused his offer, you would officially kiss a night in a nice warm house goodbye as your only other option was your car. 

“Fine,” you acquiesced. He shot you one of his rare smiles, one of the ones that lit up his own face and that made the usual ball of nerves you felt in your stomach at the sight of one of the FBI higher ups turn into a horde of fluttering butterflies. He didn’t usually give them out easily and you wondered if this one was aided by alcohol. As you approached him, your theory was confirmed. Beneath his nice aftershave and his usually minty breath you could vaguely smell whiskey. Your drunken brain stored that fact for the next office secret santa, you just had to rig it so you’d pull his name. 

“Date?” Hotch asked after a few moments of silence, the click of your heels against pavement echoing through the night.

“Just out with friends,” you replied, accidentally bumping into him as you walked.

“Me too,” he said, “College reunion.”

It felt weird having him volunteer that much information. Aaron Hotchner was the kind of man who liked to keep his work and home life separated and rarely ever let anyone in. Letting the team in on details of his divorce had been as hard and painful as the divorce itself so you never imagined he’d happily volunteer information about what he did in his spare time. 

“I had too much to drink,” he added in a whisper, like it was a confession, “I get chatty when I drink,” he grinned at you. 

“I can see that,” you giggled at him. You hadn’t meant it in any other way than a statement but Hotch grew serious anyway.

“You can tell me to shut up if I annoy you,” he said, looking at the pavement. 

“No I--” you protested, part of you wondering if the reason he kept quiet wasn’t because of professionalism but rather because he thought people wouldn’t care

“I like chatty you,” you said and he looked up, smiling at you for the second time in twenty minutes, “I also like smiley you,” you added.

“Did you have fun?” you asked a little later, for some reason, silence with Hotch now felt opressive.

“It was nice seeing them all. It’s weird though, they’ve all changed so much that I barely recognise them. Like, I look in the mirror and I think I look pretty much the same, I mean older obviously, but like I look the same,” he said, “and then I look at them and --” he brought his hands up to his head and mimicked an explosion, “I haven’t missed them though,” he added with a giggle.

“No?” You questioned, looking at him curiously. 

“God, no. Pretentious assholes,” he replied with a heavy sigh. 

“Sweetie, you went to George Washington University,” you laughed, “Of course they’re all pretentious.”

“Fair point, Agent,” he smiled. 

“Y/n,” you corrected, “My name is Y/n when we’re off the clock.” 

“And mine is Aaron,” he replied

“Well, Aaron, can you tell me how far away we are from yours? My feet are killing me,” 

“Not too far,” he replied, “Do you see your college friends often?”

“Not the majority of them. We keep in contact, call sometimes but there’s only five I see regularly. They’re the girls I went out with,” you informed him. 

“Are they nice?” He asked, “My bunch are…,” he hesitated, “They keep making these underhand digs at those who they see as less successful. I don’t think I’ll go to the next one. It just feels like a dick measuring contest,” he said, then clapped a hand in front of his mouth once he heard you laugh and realised he had sworn, “Sorry,” he apologised, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I’m trying not to swear because Jack is picking up on it. It’s not going great I keep fucking it up -- no wait! Shit! -- No! Fuck!” he exclaimed, accidentally letting out a swear whenever he realised what he had done. You couldn’t stop laughing and stopped for a moment, leaning against a tree to catch your breath. 

“I am polite,” he assured you, “pinky promise,” he added

“I believe you,” you grinned

“I am so polite that when I get home, I am going to offer you a coffee,” he said. 

“And I will accept,” you said, “I need to sober up, otherwise I’m going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow. And believe me, you don’t want to meet me when I’m hungover.”

“Eh,” he shrugged, “You’re young, it’ll pass quickly. I remember when I was your age, a hangover was just a headache, now? I have to take a sick day to recover.”

“Aren’t you exaggerating a little?” you asked

“Never,” he grinned, “Okay, maybe a little.”

“You are allowed to take days off, Aaron,” you reminded him, “You’re human, you deserve a break.”

He shrugged again, “What would I do during a break? Haley has divorced me, Jack’s only here one week every other week… I don’t want to spend more time in my empty house than I need.”

“You can go to the movies?” you offered, “Have you seen Avatar?”

“Can I be honest?” he asked, “Those blue people creep me out.”

“That is fair,” you replied, “I don’t like the hair,” 

“Yes!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in victory, “They look like elephant trunks,” he added, “My house is there,” Hotch pointed to your left at a small white brick house. One that you had passed many times when you walked your elderly neighbour’s dog. Hotch opened the wooden gate and walked up the path, accidentally tripping on a badly placed stone.

“Watch your step,” he whispered to you. Clumsily, he fished his keys out of his pocket and tried to fit it in the door in the limited light of the porch lamp. Eventually, he got it in and turned it in the lock. It opened with a click. 

“It’s nice,” you said, stepping in behind him

“Liar,” he answered, flicking the light on, “It’s dark. Was. It isn’t anymore.”

“Well it’s nice anyway,” you said, looking around. Although the furniture looked old, it was nice and it looked expensive. On one of the rare nights you had gone on as a team, Hotch had mentioned briefly living alone in Seattle when discussing rent with Emily, and you wondered if this wasn’t one of the remnants of that time. 

“Do beer goggles work on furniture too?” he joked. You stuck out your tongue at him and he grinned. 

“I thought you were polite?” you said, reminding him of his promise.

“Right! Yes! Would you like a coffee?”

“Milk and sugar please,” you answered, trying to undo the straps of your shoes and failing, wiggling your feet out of the heels instead. You’d figure out how to unclasp the buckle in the morning, when you were sober and your feet were killing you less. 

“Do you like DC?” he asked, handing you a steaming mug of coffee a few minutes later. You nodded, taking a sip, burning your lip in the process. Hotch saw you wince and bring a hand up to your mouth and immediately moved to your rescue.

“I am such an idiot,” you said.

“Don’t say that,” he frowned, grabbing your hand by the wrist and moving it away from your lip, “Let me see.”

He leant towards you, staring intently at your mouth. Your head swam more with every second he spent close to you. At work it was easy to keep your all consuming attraction to Aaron Hotchner at bay. He was your boss and maintained a professional distance at all times, preferring to call you Agent, and never asking anything for information about you beyond what he needed to know to feel like you could do the job. But with him so close to you, it was easy to allow yourself to close the gap between your mouths and kiss him.

To your surprise, he returned the kiss eagerly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and battling yours for dominance before seemingly regaining his composure and pulling away.

“We should stop,” he said, then, he hesitated, “Should we stop?”

“No, definitely not,” you answered, pulling him back towards you. Seemingly convinced, Aaron let his hands wander over your body before tapping the side of your thigh. Almost automatically, you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and rolled your hips against yours. Hotch groaned, blindly stumbling his way towards the sofa where he placed you down on your back. He joined you on the pleather furniture, towering over you with a mischievous grin as he removed his shirt in one smooth movement and unbuckled his belt. 

“Like what you see?” he asked and you gulped. Although you had spent much of your private time imagining what Hotch looked like without a shirt you had never managed to get it right. His soft but toned dad bod seemed even more attractive in person. You raised one of your hands up in the air, gently grazing his skin and tangling your fingers in his chest hair, Hotch closed his eyes and sighed.

“Care to undress me?” you asked, Aaron’s eyes fluttered open as he came back to reality. He looked at you, eager and impatient underneath him and he smiled. He bent down, grabbing your dress by the hem. You lifted your waist up and allowed him to shuffle it upwards, slowly revealing what you kept underneath. 

You silently thanked yourself for wearing nice underwear, because you wouldn’t have wanted to subject Hotch to the panties you usually wore for work. Instead, you had chosen a pretty lavender set comprised of a bralette and a thong, which Aaron seemed very pleased with as once his eyes landed on it, he seemed unable to think rationally, luckily for you, the animalistic part of the brain the lingerie had turned on seemed more than happy to take over. 

Hotch pulled off your thong and shed his trousers and boxer shorts in less time than it took for you to blink. Seeing his erection jump free of his underwear and bump against his pelvis was enough to tell you that Aaron would be bigger than any man you had ever been with. You hesitated for a second, wondering how he would ever fit.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked but you shook your head, shuffling more towards him instead to make the message clearer, “I’ll be gentle,” he assured you. 

One of his hands came to touch your core, gently grazing the sensitive skin before allowing his thumb to rest by your clit. He rubbed circles around it, enjoying every whimper you let out before giving you what you wanted and rubbing your bundle of nerves. The moans that fell from your lips were like music to his ears. He desperately wanted to fit himself inside you, but he wanted to make sure you were ready for him. 

He rubbed you faster, with every touch you could feel the coil of pleasure in your tummy tighten and soon you tipped over the edge and came with a pornographic moan. Exercising all self control, Aaron brough a hand to his cock and jerked it a few times, letting the fingers of his other hand wander down to your aching core. He slipped one finger in, savouring just how tight you were before adding another one. He pumped them in and out of you, stretching you out, adding fingers until he felt you were ready for him. 

Hotch lined himself up with your pussy, gently pressing himself in. You happily swallowed every inch of him and when he bottomed out, he let you adjust for a moment before thrusting himself in and out of you at an accelerating pace. You felt like heaven gripping him so tight that he was sure he wouldn’t last very long. Luckily for him, it didn’t seem like you would either. 

Your hands were clawing at his back, leaving scratch marks that stung deliciously every time Aaron hit that spongey spot inside you, and your moans kept getting louder, spurring him on as he bottomed out and slammed himself back in until he could no longer keep himself from coming. With a groan he spilled himself inside you, triggering your own orgasm. 

You stayed in each other’s arms for a few moments, catching your breaths before Aaron pulled out of you. He smiled at you, leaning down to leave one last kiss upon your swollen lips, leaving your relationship forever changed. 

Part of you wondered if anything had leaked. The both of you had been careful not to speak about it, in private or in public, but you worked with the best profilers the United States had to offer. It was possible someone had figured something out. Or, although you didn’t think she ever would, that Garcia had accidentally seen or heard something she never should have. Hotch wasn’t particularly careful with electronics. They were either in his suit pocket or in the back pocket of his trousers, it had never happened, but what if he had butt dialled someone? 

Although, you figured that was unlikely, since Strauss wouldn’t have come if she had any evidence at all, she would have just fired you. But it did explain why she insisted on sticking with you at all times, or why she had demanded a room right above Hotch’s, even though the hotel clerk, clearly wanting to impress the FBI’s section chief, had confessed to her that the room wasn’t all that soundproof. 

No, sadly, the more likely explanation for her overbearing presence was that she hated the team and how it was run. She thought it was too disorganised, too sloppy, and that its subpar running posed a threat to the FBI. You had to roll your eyes at that, you had been in many departments, working as an intern, then a secretary and eventually a full time salaried employee. You had seen more of the FBI than Strauss ever would, and you could say with absolute certainty that the BAU was the only team you had been a part of who ever filed their paperwork on time. Sure, most of the agents had a smidge of a hero complex and were far too eager to place themselves in danger when it came to unsubs, but the cases got cracked. The bad guys got caught. Reports got written and overtime filed.

And yet, she still insisted on making everything difficult. Quantico and the bullpen provided a little protection against her, you could always duck into a cubicle, blame your inability to speak with her on an ever climbing pile of paperwork -- even if you sometimes pulled empty sheets of paper out of the printer to bulk it up a little when it got a little too bare, a technique you had learnt from Rossi and that you had very quickly shared with the rest of the team. Only Aaron, the only agent whose pile was constituted only of real case files and documents wasn’t participating in the charade -- or simply pick the case the state furthest away from Strauss to escape her grip. 

Maybe she had gotten wide to the ruse and wanted to make you pay for it now. 

----

“Not feeling chatty?” Morgan asked the girl. She hadn’t spoken since Hotch and Spencer had apprehended her coming out of a potential victim’s back garden, red paint splashed all over her clothes. Once she was in cuffs and backup arrived, a message had been uncovered, the same message all the other girls had found and reported days before their untimely deaths. It wasn’t uncommon for unsubs to refuse to talk, although most of them at least demanded a lawyer or answered ‘no comment’ after every question. 

Avery Watts had been utterly silent since her arrival twenty minutes ago, and she hadn’t moved or blinked either. It was eerie, and Morgan was feeling it too. He was trying his best not to show it, but he kept glancing at the two way glass every few seconds, almost trying to reassure himself that if anything went wrong, someone would be able to help. He needn’t have worried. Spencer and you had made your way into the observational cubicle adjoining the interrogation room as soon as she had been brought in and you had been joined seconds later by Strauss, hot on your trail, and a rookie officer up for a promotion in a month and eager to learn. 

Avery shrugged

“Fine, I suggest you make yourself comfortable here then. We’ll be back tomorrow,” Morgan said, standing up from his chair and pushing it back underneath the table. Hotch gathered the papers in front of the unsub and placed them all back into his briefcase, leaving the pictures of the various crime scenes and victims last so she could get one last good look and one last chance for you to notice a reaction but none came. Instead, she grinned at Hotch.

“You don’t have any evidence against me,” the girl said, voice raspy from disuse, “You have to let me go.”

“I don’t need evidence,” Hotch replied, looking her straight in the eyes, “I can hold you for 72 hours without cause,” he added, wiping her self-satisfied little smile right off of her face, “And I will.”

Strauss pressed the comms button on the panel in front of you with a neatly manicured nail, “I really don’t think that is a good idea,” she said, sounding so confident in her own non-existent ability that you almost wanted to scream. You held it in, preferring to glare at her instead. Spencer, who had slowly moved to stand next to you -- whether that was to get a better look or to stop you from throwing your career down the drain you didn’t know -- grabbed your arm and squeezed it reassuringly. 

You smiled at him tensely and he returned the gesture. You were the two youngest members of the BAU task force and while a friendship was always bound to form, no one had been able to predict just how quickly the two of you had clicked. He was the resident genius, the model for the definition of a nerd and you were the ex-prom queen and cheerleading captain everyone at your school had voted ‘Most Likely to sell their soul for lipstick’, if either of you had been any less mature, the friendship would never have worked but as it was, there wasn’t a single day where you didn’t text, call, email or meet up for coffee with Spencer Reid. He was charming and kind, and a better friend than anyone else in your life had ever been. 

“Breathe,” he mouthed but you didn’t catch it, behind the two way glass Hotch moved. He placed the briefcase on the floor and walked up to the mirror.

“I am not letting her back onto the streets,” Hotch stated. As soon as the words left his mouth, the unsub moved. With surprising force, she flipped the interrogation table, breaking the cuffs off of the metal loop screwed onto the bottom of it and rearranged the piece of furniture right on top of SSA Hotchner’s trachea. She leaned in, pressing harder. Reflexively, Aaron tried to breathe in, letting out a raspy sound that raised the hair on your arms. 

You were the first to fly out of the cubicle and into the interrogation room, gun drawn and ready to shoot but when you kicked down the door, Avery moved away from the overturned table, hands raised up in surrender. Spencer came in behind you and immediately jumped to Hotch’s aid while the rookie stayed by the door, gun pointed at Avery, blocking her path in case she tried to leave, and blocking Strauss’ path in case she wanted to come in. You put your gun away and pulled out your cuffs, with a swift press of your foot to the back of her knees you got Avery down to the ground and restrained her. 

“Stay down,” Spencer told Hotch, one hand planted on the upper part of his chest, trying to keep the man from moving, “MEDIC,” he shouted. The rookie officer turned around and booked it through various corridors to get to the main office of the Santa Maria police department. Main office was a big word, only three officers operated the three shifts the day was separated into, with a volunteer officer coming in whenever the grocery store he worked for didn’t need him. The FBI’s presence had changed things a little, the BAU’s team of four and one or two medics permanently assisting the team dwarfing the police force without even really trying. It was lucky the police station had been built by an optimist in the late forties, as they had prepared for a mining boom that had never come and made the precinct much bigger than necessary. So big in fact, that half the rooms remained unused and only three of the twelve holding cells had ever been used at the same time. 

Officer Jones, the rookie whose name badge you finally took the time to look at, came back five minutes later, medics and Rossi in tow. They crowded around Hotch as he slowly regained the ability to breathe and then speak. You wanted to stay, seeing him hurt like that roused feelings in you you usually tried so hard to keep down, but Avery stirred and you suddenly remembered the reason Aaron was currently on the floor, recovering from the unsub’s idea of feng shui. You yanked her up and she yelped, feeling a slight bit of vindication you passed Rossi. He grabbed her other hand and helped you manhandle her down the hall into a badly lit holding cell. A ‘bed’ had been prepared, made from a thin mattress, a pillow and a scratchy blanket, and whoever had prepped the room had had the forethought to bring out a plastic cup of water. You walked her into the cell and uncuffed her. Avery glared at you in a way that told you that if looks could kill, you would have been the newest victims in her growing group. You turned around, walking out of the room as Rossi locked it. He turned away, but a strange sound resonated through the air and the both of you froze. Suddenly, you were showered with something cold and wet and Avery cackled, the plastic cup rolling out from under her cell. 

#fanfic #criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #hotch smut #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotch fic #ssa hotchner

[charmandabear]

New Year's Eve

Summary:

You don't really want to go to Shadowheart's New Year's Eve party, but you meet someone who might make things a little more interesting.

Pairing: Astarion/gn!Reader (femme leaning) Rating: T Word Count: 3.7k Tags: fluff, first kiss, new year's eve, flirting, sexual tension, pool shenanigans (the game, not like swimming)

Read it on AO3.

Final part (maybe) of Midwinter Nights! I really wanted to get this out actually on NYE, but I spent too much time playing Baldur's Gate. Oops. Once again, my beautiful banner Astarion was made by Idylla.

Midwinter Nights: Yule | Christmas | New Year's Eve

You're not really one for parties. There are too many strangers in too small of a space listening to music that's too loud while eating food that's too salty. But Shadowheart was insistent, even helping you dress for the occasion.

She bent over you, applying some glittery eyeshadow that fell onto your cheeks with every stroke of her brush. Her long silvery ponytail dangled over her shoulder, the tip of it tickling your hands resting in your lap.

“Stop flinching!” she snapped, and you clenched your hands to force yourself still. You weren't accustomed to wearing much makeup at all, save maybe a little smokey eyeliner and lipstick. But you really hated having things near your eyes. Shadowheart knew this, and she promised to be as gentle as possible. She pulled up your eyebrow to smooth out her canvas.

When she pulled out a tool that could have easily been a medieval torture device, you scooted back in her vanity chair and held your hands up in defense. She rolled her eyes at your theatrics.

“This is the alternative to mascara, it's going to be one or the other,” she huffed at you. “It won't hurt at all, so long as you stay still.” Still wary of the metal contraption, you closed your eyes, taking a breath to settle your jumpy nerves.

She pressed the cool curved metal to your eyelid and you managed to still your instinct to pull back. She clamped the contraption down on your eyelashes and you held your breath to keep yourself from moving. You managed to stay frozen while she curled the lashes of your other eye, and when she finally pulled away you let out a puff of air.

“Okay, now lashes,” she said as she applied a thin layer of glue to a spidery false eyelash.

“Woah woah woah, I thought that was it. What the hell is that?” You leaned away from it like she was holding an actual tarantula. She flicked up her cold green eyes to meet yours, unamused by your antics.

“You said no mascara, so this is necessary. Don't worry, nothing will get in your eye, this just sits on top.” She waved the lash like she was shaking water off it, and you followed it with your eyes uneasily.

“Why is this so important to you?” you muttered under your breath, resuming your statuesque stillness. You heard Shadowheart release an impatient breath.

“I just want to make you look pretty, is that so much to ask? Well, prettier than usual, at least.” You could hear the smile in her voice. The least you could do is indulge her a little bit, you supposed. Shadowheart didn't have many luxuries growing up in such a strict orphanage. She wasn't allowed to keep any dolls, so letting her play dress up with you now was a small price to pay for her delight.

“Besides,” her voice took on a musical quality, “there’s going to be someone there tonight that I want you to meet.” You stifled a groan. Shadowheart had become borderline insufferable since she and Karlach started dating. The two of them were very cute together, almost sickenly so, stealing touches whenever they thought they could get away with it. You knew that she just wanted you to be happy, but you still hadn’t quite recovered from the last time she set you up with someone.

“This isn’t going to be like that awful double date with Gale, right?” you asked with trepidation. She smirked as she stepped back, admiring her work.

“No, trust me, I learned my lesson on that one. In fact, these two couldn’t be more different, I promise.” She tapped your knee, signaling you to turn back to the vanity mirror to see the final look. For a moment, you were actually at a loss for words. The silvery shimmer on your eyelids reflected every color of the rainbow, the sparkles dancing every time you moved your head. The sharp lines of the deep plum color on your lips made them look pouty and kissable. Your hair cascaded down your shoulder, pinned back with little star and moon shaped trinkets. She had put you in a dress that you were certain would make you look like a clown, but the way the rose gold sequins and sweetheart neckline hugged your curves evoked an almost ethereal quality.

“So?” Shadowheart made eye contact with you in the mirror, and you could see her bouncing with excitement.

“Shadowheart, I look amazing!” you breathed, still marveling that a little styling could change this much.

“I know,” she said in her charmingly self-satisfied way. She planted a kiss on the top of your head and bounded across the room to her dresser, pulling a necklace off the jewelry tree sitting on top.

“Hair,” she commanded, and you carefully held up your hair for her to clasp it around your neck. “And one final touch,” she added, and said the incantation for minor illusion, making everything on you sparkle just a little bit more. She put her hands on your shoulders and pressed her cheek to yours, still looking at your reflection in the mirror.

“You know, I did such a good job that you’ll have your pick of potential partners,” she grinned, “but I think I know who you’ll choose.”

~~~

The temporary confidence boost brought on by seeing your reflection had worn off and the social anxiety began to creep in. Shadowheart sashayed over to you and pressed a wine glass into your hand. 

“I don't think he's here yet, but drink this, loosen up a bit,” she said with a conspiratorial smile. You welcomed having something to do with your hands as your eyes scanned the room, looking for a comforting face. Unfortunately your eyes locked with Gale, who smiled and waved.

“Sorry, gotta run,” Shadowheart said and was gone before you could protest. Gale wandered toward you and politeness locked your legs in place.

“Hello again,” he greeted cheerily, if not a bit awkwardly. You gave him a strained smile, clutching your glass a little tighter.

“Hi Gale, it's good to see you,” you said, hoping the lie wasn't too evident. You stood together in silence for a moment, shuffling your feet uncomfortably.

“Read anything interesting lately? I'm currently several chapters into the most fascinating tome on the intricacies of the Peloponnesian War by the Greek historian Thucydides. He does something really remarkable, something that only a handful of historians even think to do, by connecting the famines around that time with the internal conflicts that arose. He manages to capture the desperation that forced them into…”

It amazed you how much he could speak without taking a breath. Despite starting with a question, he hadn't paused long enough for you to answer. You sipped the wine as he continued to ramble, eyes darting around for an escape. Your gaze landed on a beautiful young man with ivory skin and silvery hair, perfectly windswept. Your breath caught in your throat a little just looking at him. He was dressed impeccably, a blue and purple brocade vest with gold closures over a dusky lavender cashmere turtleneck that hugged his lithe figure. His legs were long and lean, and he stood with a permanently crooked gait, giving an aloof and casual air.

He caught your eye and flashed a disarming grin. His gaze shifted to Gale, who had moved on to comparing The History of the Peloponnesian War to Plato’s Republic, then back to you. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question, to which you nodded almost imperceptibly. He chuckled and sauntered over.

“Gale, darling, I’m afraid our new friend here will soon lose her hearing the way you’re talking her ear off,” he said in a melodic voice, slinging an arm around Gale’s shoulder. Gale started and turned toward the handsome stranger.

“Oh, Astarion, I didn’t see you there.” He turned to look back at you, appropriately chagrined. “My apologies, once I get started it can be hard for me to stop. I’ll stop monopolizing your presence and let you mingle.” And with that, he was off. You let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“Thank you, I didn’t know how to make him stop,” you said with relief, your posture visibly relaxing.

“He has a tendency to do that,” he chuckled, “you learn how to manage him after a time.”

“I appreciate it all the same,” you responded, cheeks beginning to redden. His gaze was piercing, almost as if he could see into you. 

“You know, I thought I had already met everyone worth knowing around here, but evidently I was wrong.” He held out a slender hand for you to take, and you shivered slightly when you felt how icy it was. “Astarion, though I suppose Gale let that fact slip already.”

You caught a glimpse of Karlach across the room, who noticed you talking to Astarion and excitedly batted Shadowheart’s shoulder. She turned and gave you a big smile, mouthing “That's him!” while pointing at Astarion’s back. Her lack of subtlety made you smile.

“Yeah, I think our generous host wanted us to meet,” you said with a little nod, and he looked over his shoulder at Karlach and Shadowheart, who very unconvincingly pretended to be deep in conversation.

“Well how lucky for us that we found each other, then,” he said in a low breath, and you felt your subconscious pulling you toward him, the magnetic force between you palpable. You coughed and stepped away, head spinning slightly from the rush. You nervously took a sip of your wine.

“Are you enjoying that?” he asked, wrinkling his nose at the glass. You looked down at it, perplexed. You didn't really know much about alcohol at all, you just accepted whatever Shadowheart gave to you.

“It's fine, I guess,” you said, shrugging noncommittally. He took it from you and bent down to put it on the table behind you. He brushed against you slightly as he did, and that heady feeling came back. The scent of his cologne washed over you, your body reacting to the smell like a pheromone. You blinked at him as he straightened up.

“You smell… good,” you stammered incoherently. 

“Aren't you just the sweetest?” he said with a jaunty smile. “Here, let me get you something better than that foul wine.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you over to an old-fashioned metal drink cart. Shadowheart would get something like that for a party.

“Any requests?” He surveyed the selection, lithe fingers dancing over the labels.

“I don't drink much, so whatever you think is good,” you said, looking up at him with your big doe eyes. He smiled, admiring just how cute you looked, your silky hair curling around your pretty neck. He was suspicious of your innocent act, convinced that there was more to you than you led on. He took two shot glasses from the lower tray and poured a deep red liquor.

“Try this, let me know what you think,” he said, handing you one of the shot glasses. He held his out to you, making very deliberate eye contact, waiting for you to clink. You locked eyes with him and his undead heart skipped a beat. You both downed the shot while maintaining eye contact. When you pulled the glass away from your lips, a delectable drop of the blood red liquid remained. 

Astarion reached out and swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, his touch like an electric shock. He smirked as he licked the remnant of the liquor that he stole from your lip. He must've known what he was doing to your insides, and it looked like he was enjoying watching you squirm.

“How does that taste?” he murmured, tongue lingering on the st. Your throat was dry despite the liquor still coating the inside of your mouth.

“Good,” you croaked with a nod. “I like it.”

“Good,” he repeated your word, somehow making it sound so much more lascivious. He grabbed two long flutes and filled them with sparkling wine. He then topped them off with the sweet liquor, and you watched the red liquid curling through the gold, undulating like an exotic dancer. He swirled the glasses until the entire drink had taken on a bright crimson.

“Cheers,” he said, holding out the glass. You tapped your glass to his, lost once more in his intense eye contact. You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, mesmerized by the smooth porcelain of his skin. He noticed you staring and he grinned, causing you to suddenly look away as you felt your cheeks reddening.

In that moment Karlach sidled up to you, saving you from yourself. She threw her arm around your neck and addressed Astarion.

“Hey, Fangs, I hear you're pretty good at pool. Wyll and I are the undefeated champs right now, think you and Sparkles here can take us?”

Fangs?

“Well, I do rather enjoy seeing Wyll’s cry, so yes, I think we can. What do you think?” He hit you again with that penetrating gaze of his, and you felt yourself buckle under the weight of Karlach’s arm. 

“Sure,” you said meekly, still feeling Astarion's stare. Karlach pumped her fist in victory and ran off to grab Wyll. Astarion pressed his hand into your lower back in the direction of the pool table.

“Don't worry if you don't know how to play, darling, I'll play well enough for the both of us,” he whispered into your ear, and his breath tickled your love. You swallowed thickly and allowed yourself to be guided over to the table.

Wyll was already there, chalking up his cue. You had met him once or twice in passing, but never spent much time in each other's presence. You waved shyly and he replied with a polite nod.

“Ahh, billiards,” Wyll said wistfully. “Such an elegant game.”

“Any game where I get to smack a bunch of balls with a stick is the game for me,” Karlach cackled, clearly proud of herself. Wyll rolled his eyes as he set up the table and you giggled quietly.

“We’ll go first to give you two a little advantage,” Karlach smirked, and sent the cue ball flying into the rack.

“Ladies first,” Astarion handed you a pool cue and bowed, gesturing at the table. Your eyes scanned for the best shot. Right as you found it, Astarion came up close behind you, his lips centimeters away from your ear.

“Go for the 3 ball into the corner pocket,” he breathed, putting his arms around you to help you aim the cue. Your heart pounded feeling him this close, his front flush against your back, his pretty silver curls tickling your neck. You struggled to keep your breath even and you tried to focus on the ball in front of you. You managed to snap out of it when it became clear that he wasn't helping you angle the cue correctly.

You looked over your shoulder at him and the spark in your eye was electrifying. Your muscles, previously lax and easily pliable, suddenly sprang to life as you took control of the cue. He heard the crack of the cue ball hitting the 3 ball before he saw it. He also felt the jab to his gut as you thrust the cue back in order to gain the necessary momentum to make the shot. He stepped back and coughed, holding his hand against his solar plexus. The pain was almost worth it when you spun around and covered your mouth with your hands, face growing a delicious shade of red.

The sudden horror of elbowing Astarion in the stomach filled your body with the heat of embarrassment, your eyes about to melt out of your head.

“I. Am. So. Sorry,” you managed to squeak out behind your hands. He was bent over slightly, but he still managed a weak smile.

“No, the mistake is mine for making an assumption,” he wheezed. You gnawed on your lower lip, anxiety coming off you in waves. Astarion straightened up and gently took your chin in his hand, tilting your face up to him.

“Just make sure we win,” he said in a silky tone that sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded dreamily, and he chucked his finger below your chin. 

Watching you play pool was something else. You were suddenly more confident than you had been all night - he knew the damsel facade was just an act. He relished in seeing you stalk around the table like a lioness circling her prey. Your eyes flitted across the table, making calculations, playing each scenario out in your mind. Astarion fancied himself a decent billiards player, but you were an artist at work. Even Karlach and Wyll’s banter died down as they struggled to figure out how to beat you.

But even better than witnessing your mastery at pool was simply watching you as you played. The slight imprint the cue made across your chest as you leaned into it, the way your dress sparkled every time you moved, the cheeky glimpse of your ass as you bent down to take a shot. 

He preened a little while he played, not so secretly hoping you were watching him as much as he was watching you. He may have put a little extra arch in his back, leaned back on his leg a little more than was necessary, just at the chance of seeing you flustered.

And fluster you it did. Not enough to throw you off your game - no, when it was time to take a shot, everything else fell away. But while you were waiting, you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. Every time he bent over, scandalous images passed through your mind, deepening the flush in your cheeks. While Wyll and Karlach discussed a shot, you watched his fingers lightly run over the length of his cue, and you wondered what else those fingers could do. The thought made your heart race and Astarion turned to look at you, almost as if he could read your mind. Which you didn’t think he could do. He didn’t know any spells, to your knowledge, but you should really try to control your thoughts just to be safe. Though you weren’t sure if you could around him.

You came back to yourself just as Karlach celebrated sinking their last striped ball. She punched Wyll in the shoulder and he rubbed at it while her back was turned. He surveyed the table, tried for an angle to pocket the 8 ball, and missed.

You stepped up to the table, mapping out the geometry in your mind's eye. You found an angle that should work, and you leaned over to line up your shot. Astarion came up behind you, and you could feel him pressing into your backside.

“You've got this,” he whispered, and a shudder shot through your body. Enough to misalign your carefully lined shot. And you missed.

“Aww, tough break!” Karlach could barely contain her glee. “Looks like Pretty Boy got you distracted,” she added with a devilish grin. You looked at Astarion and then quickly looked away, trying to hide your blush.

“What can I say? I'm very distracting,” he retorted. “But you haven't won just yet. I still get a shot.”

“Oh boo, just take your shot, then, so we can win.” She stuck out her tongue at him.

You felt awful for missing, since you absolutely would have made you hadn't been so down bad for him. It's also not lost on you that if you win, he might want to celebrate…

You quietly cast guidance on him as he's lining up his shot. He bristles, then changes his angle ever so slightly. He tapped the cue ball which bounced against the 8 ball, knocking it into the side pocket. You and Astarion both shouted with joy. Karlach’s face fell while Wyll eyed you suspiciously. 

“What? No way, man, I can't believe you made it,” she pouted, crossing her arms across her broad chest. Astarion threw his arms around you and you pressed yourself into his chest, inhaling that intoxicating fragrance. You felt him vibrate with a low chuckle. You looked up at him without breaking the hug, and he whispered, “you cheeky little minx.”

You looked up at him with those doe eyes again, the feigned innocence back. He smirked and gently stroked your hair.

“Everyone, gather round, it's nearly midnight!” Shadowheart called out to the room. “Help yourselves to a toasting glass.”

Astarion led you to the tray of glasses and handed you one. 

“I never fancied you a cheater,” he murmured under his breath. You looked at him aghast, this one not quite as convincing.

“10!.. 9!..”

“I'm certain I have no idea what you mean,” you shyly glanced up at him through your lashes. He was certain you knew exactly what you were doing.

“8!.. 7!..”

“I don't know if there's anything strictly in the rules about using cantrips,” he mused, looking off to the side. You stepped a smidge closer.

“6!.. 5!..”

“Well either way, I enjoyed playing by your side.”

“4!.. 3!..”

“I just enjoyed being by your side,” his voice was low and cool, and your heart started pounding in your throat.

“2!.. 1!.. Happy New Year!!”

He pulled up your chin towards his, planting a tender kiss on your lips. He tasted sweet, the drink he made earlier still on his tongue. You clutched at his fine vest, aching to deepen the kiss. You knew this wasn't the time or the place, but you desperately craved more of him.

He swiped his tongue along your lower lip and pulled away, hovering a few centimeters away from your face.

“Happy New Year indeed,” he purred, and smiled, flashing two pointed incisors that you just barely caught out of the corner of your eye.

Fangs? Your heart thumped loudly against your chest, trying to escape in excitement.

Fangs.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate fanfiction #astarion fluff #astarion x reader #astarion x you #fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion

[irisintheafterglow]

More Than It Seams (Chapter 2)

summary: you're a hero costume tech working for one of the biggest fashion companies in quirk society, and the days until the most important fashion event of the year are dwindling fast. if you weren't stressed enough, a certain half-and-half hero keeps appearing with rips in his suit. (pro!todoroki x reader)

word count: 1.4k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of needles, probably inaccurate fashion design vocabulary, strangers to lovers, no specified pronouns for reader, mentions of food/eating

note: sorry for the shorter chapter, i got carried away with the first one establishing exposition oops. but! next chapter is gonna be real cute cuz it has pining! and angst! and stubborn shoto! hope you enjoy!

likes/reblogs/feedback are much appreciated!

It becomes an odd kind of routine, a handsome distraction walking into your office every day with some random, minor flaw in his costume; he started getting creative, presenting a tear in the sleeve, a loose button, an undone seam, and you start to wonder if he was wrecking his suit little by little on purpose. He visited at the same time every day, 11:30 sharp, and you started to watch the clock to see if he really did appear as if on a timer. 

On the first Friday he visited and one week before the ball, time seemed to run away from you as one problem stacked on top of another like a dread sandwich. One of your suppliers had run out of the fabric for Red Riot’s suit, pushing back finalization to late next week; Cellophane’s secretary had called to reschedule his final costume fitting, and you were trying to find a hero to come in earlier to fill his timeslot; the office had lost electricity for two hours because of a blown fuse upstairs; and, on top of all this, you’d foregone breakfast in favor of clocking into work early. 

“Psst,” your designer whispered to you as he slid boning into a corset. You followed his gaze to the clock and felt a mix of excitement and fear. Today was not the day for Shoto to visit, especially when stress painted your face and office morale was particularly low. 

But, in all his punctual glory, he exited the elevator at 11:30 exactly, dressed in his hero costume as if he’d just gotten off patrol. Wiping the sweat from your forehead and putting on your best “everything is fine” face, you waited for him at your station as he pushed open the gate and approached your table. Thankfully, your seamstresses had grown accustomed to his visits, and didn’t bat an eye as he passed them. You don’t bother with the faked surprise at his presence in your workplace again, letting out a long exhale as he questions your visible stress with a single arched eyebrow. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” The way he spoke to you evolved over the past few days, morphing from formal salutations to casual, slightly patronizing remarks. His keen intellect was matched by a biting wit that you guessed not a lot of people had the privilege of witnessing. He waited for your usual sarcastic remark at his presence, but you simply shook your head in exhaustion, eyes wordlessly conveying that everything had gone wrong. 

The silence punctuated the horrendously loud growl that your stomach released, reminding you of the breakfast you had skipped. 

“You haven’t eaten.” 

“No, but it’s alright. I’ll manage.” You unconsciously shrunk away from his piercing stare. 

“When is your break?”

“Technically ten minutes ago, but–”

His stubborn, even voice cut you off, a hand extended to raise you from your station. “Let’s go, then.”

“What?”

“Lunch. Right now, or I’m reporting you for insubordination. I have ideas for my Hero Ball appearance.” You couldn’t help but smile at his childish chivalry, taking his hand and playfully squeezing it once. A corner of his mouth quirked, and he squeezed back. “Do you like soba?” 

Coincidentally, there was a small soba shop within walking distance of your office. For heroes’ privacy, it didn’t allow cameras inside, and the owner greeted Shoto by name as she led you two to a small booth in the very back corner of the restaurant. She muttered something to Shoto about “finally bringing in that friend you like to visit” and his face turns the lightest shade of pink, barely noticeable if you weren’t already staring at him. As you sit together, conversation flows effortlessly about his family, his career, and his friends. You’d known that many of the top heroes had attended UA High School together, but you found yourself laughing at the intimately detailed stories of their teenage escapades. 

“Wait, so Bakugo was always like that? Scary?” 

“Midoriya’s existence tended to exacerbate his violent tendencies. But, to put it simply, yes. He has always been scary.” He smiled subtly in that way you had started to memorize by heart, making your stomach backflip despite the delicious food. 

“I had an, uh, interesting experience with Bakugo last year for the Hero Ball.”

“Interesting how?”

“He burnt my shit to ashes saying that it didn’t ‘match his fucking eyes!’” Shoto’s eyes widened as he choked on his soba, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his embarrassingly startled laugh. It was so easy with him. Easy to talk, easy to smile, easy to just forget about work expectations and focus on these little moments with him that no one else received. He gathered himself with several sips of water and a deep inhale, smiling boyishly as he exhaled. 

“So how did you end up becoming a designer? Did you always want to work for big companies, like M?”

“Honestly, no. I kinda took this job because it was the only place that would hire me and didn’t feel threatened by my quirk. This job was meant to be temporary, a way to make money so I could start my own business, but that fell through and I never left.”

“How long have you been with M?”

You hesitate, mentally counting the years in your head and unable to stop your face from falling as you answer. “Five years.” 

“You’ve been at a temporary job for five years?” You shrug and nod, suddenly feeling the urge to steer the subject away from something so personal. He must have sensed your reluctance to talk about it, too, as he nodded with finality. “I saw your designs in the office. It truly is remarkable how talented you are.” 

Your face heats up at his praise, and you stutter out a thank you as he pulls his phone from his pocket, holding it out to you with a magazine photo from the late 80s. The model wore a simple slightly closed buttonup tucked into highwaisted, straight-leg leather trousers. A subtle silver chain fell from the waistband of the pants and connected to the back pocket. It was an awfully casual look, and you looked up at Shoto in question before he swiped to an image of an intricately decorated trenchcoat. Flames ran from the corner of the front panel to the back where it exploded into a fire loosely resembling a crane taking flight. 

“You want to wear this?” You asked in disbelief at how bold the look would be in comparison to the simple two-piece suits he’d worn since the beginning of time. 

“If possible, yes. Would it be plausible to create something like this given such short notice?” 

The trenchcoat was beautiful, and it would probably be one of the few designs that you truly had fun creating. “I think I can. Did you want the fire embroidered on your left side and ice embroidered from the right, like your quirk?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” You grin at him, excited to get started on such an eye-catching piece as he pulls his phone away. To your surprise, he held out his phone again, catching you in the middle of planning the colors of embroidery thread. On the screen was a contact profile for you to put in your phone number. “Here, so we can stay in contact.” 

“You know, guys usually ask for my number before the first date,” you innocently remark, pleased at the way Shoto’s complexion becomes slightly pinker. In a flash, it’s retrained into its carefully blank expression, but his voice has the slightest teasing air to it. 

“Consider it more of me taking care of a business partner. It’d truly be a shame if you starved to death before I could debut your work.” He gently swats your hand away when you reach for the bill, placing down a hefty, solid metal card. “Though, I do have the intention of taking you on a proper first date when the events of the ball have concluded.” 

You breathe out a laugh at the childish glint in his eye as you take his hand again, allowing him to lead you outside. A quick glance at his phone washes his face with concern and slight disappointment as he looks back at you and squeezes your hand one more time before releasing it. 

“I have to go. There’s been a coordinated attack on the Dynamight agency.”

“Oh, alright. Please be safe.”

A sharp white eyebrow arches teasingly. “Worried for me?” 

You nudge him gently with your shoulder, and he sways jokingly at the contact even though you know it takes much more to make him stumble. “No, just wanna make sure I don’t make such a show-stopping look for nothing.” The warmth in his smile almost makes your knees collapse. “I’ll see you Monday?” 

“I look forward to it.” 

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha x you #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x you #bnha #mha #shoto x you #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto #my hero academia

[xxsycamore]

>>𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬

↬ 👙 While trying on bikinis, you make Napoleon hard. Public place or not, you know when you have to take responsibility.

Napoleon Bonaparte x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Changing Room Sex; Public Sex; Public Blow Jobs; Blow Jobs; Deepthroating; Come Swallowing; Praise Kink • wordcount: 1,032 • masterlist

a/n:  I wrote this on a whim instead of sleeping. Don't look at me. For Late Summer Rendezvous, Day 5: Picking swimwear together goes naughty

"How is it?? Isn't it cuuute? I think it's even cuter than the last one!"

You spin around for Napoleon's eyes, showing off the bikini that got you gasping when you spotted it on the rack just a second ago. Just like the previous one. And the one before that.

Napoleon is understanding of the seriousness of the task. You gotta find the cutest one. It's tough.

Arms crossed in front of his chest, his dog tag necklace dangles slightly as he shakes his head with a troubled look on his face.

"I'm awful."

"Huh?" You stop in your tracks just before you can pull the curtain of the changing room closed again, a hand already making its way behind you so you can get out of this swimsuit and into the next one faster. "Why?"

"Because..." Napoleon starts, grabbing a random hanger from the rack before checking if anyone is looking at how he is about to enter the cramped changing room together with you. He's just there to help, it's plausible enough.

Once inside, he enjoys the way you back up to the mirror; the little shiver noticeably running down your spine as your naked shoulders touch the cool surface. You try to make space for him as he suddenly has you trapped.

"Because you think you're looking cute in that, when all I see is a piece of clothing I want to rip off you."

Surprised, you open your mouth before even thinking of what to say but it's needless anyway, because Napoleon steals your opportunity to say anything coherent at all. His hand grasps yours, guiding it on the front of his trousers. He's got a hard-on.

"I'm- Oops?"

"Is this all you got to say after shamelessly seducing your boyfriend? You're impossible, Nunuche." The click of his tongue has you biting your lip, something about his faint irritation turning you on. Had you known Napoleon is that easily influenced by the sight of you in those bikinis, you would have put in more effort in making him hard, for the fun of it. Maybe it's not too late to play that game. You can leave him here and return with a pair that isn't intended to be cute and see what he thinks then, palming his cock as you ignore him.

But you're not that cruel. You're his Nunuche who is even hornier than him, like usual.

"Why are you falling to your knees? Don't tell me you intend to-"

"Suck you off in the changing room? Yes, in fact, I do!"

Napoleon's emerald eyes waver for a second in caution as he slightly tilts his head as if to hear for any signs of people nearby. He signals you to be quiet, and weren't it for the zipper in your mouth as you work his pants down, you would've told him to watch his own mouth from here on and not worry about you.

Letting his hard, throbbing length rest against your cheek, you look straight at Napoleon while lowering down your bikini so your breasts pop out. Withdrawing, you catch his cock in your mouth, a bead of precum falling on your hot tongue as you start sucking him nicely, not losing any time in teasing. You love the powerful eruptions he's capable of when the pace is fast and he's not bothering to hold himself back.

Granted, he's already making that erotic face that lets you know he gave up on self-control even if he previously held any hopes of achieving it. Feeling hotter and hotter with you at his feet, he cards his fingers through his bangs to move them aside as he puts his other hand on top of your head.

"Yeah, just like that... Merde, I'm close- Swallow it."

You feel electricity running through your body as he speaks those last words, awfully a lot like an order, an accidental one, as you understand he genuinely worries about you making a mess. Enthusiased to make him see stars, you put your heart to the task, taking him in as deep as you can as the tip presses to the back of your throat. The involuntary whine that comes from you is what sents him over the edge, a barely hidden noise of pleasure rumbling in his throat as he does his best to warn you not to choke on his cum before he explodes.

You lose track of the times you take a big gulp of cum down your throat, and the thought has you lightheaded. Your boyfriend's vigor and potency are going to be the end of you one of these days.

Smiling weakly at him, you even tuck his cock back in his pants for him. "See, I swallowed everything and didn't make a mess!"

You can't quite put a finger on the expression Napoleon has on his face, if you didn't know any better, you'd assume he just got another hard-on, as you feel his thumb press onto your chin and swipe upwards to collect something, pushing it past your swollen lips. Swirling your tongue around it, you don't need to register the salty taste to figure out what it is.

"Yes, you did. Good girl."

Heart set on fire with the praise, you stand up to your feet again, turning around with your back to Napoleon to confuse him for a second before explaining as if it was obvious: "Does that mean we can now return to you picking up my swimsuit again? If you can't choose, I'll revoke your permission and just choose it myself..."

You feel his warm hands on your back, his low humming filling the small space as you steal a glance at him in the mirror untying your bikini top.

Instead of handing you the next pair, he first hooks his fingers inside your bottom piece and drags it down until it falls freely on the floor, leaving you completely naked.

"There, I'm choosing this one. I've been thinking about taking you skinny dipping for awhile now. And then some, ever since we got here. You can't refuse, can you?"

If it means one obstacle less in the way? You simply can't.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikevamp napoleon #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikevamp fanfic #ikevamp smut #ikemen #ikemen napoleon #otome #late summer rendezvous ccc #late summer rendezvous

[paintbrushnebula]

Gwen Stacy: Fire Arms and Father-In-Laws

‼️⚠️tw/cw - g^n mention

I think guns end up being an obvious trigger for Gwen; it's always the first thing she disarms during villain fights (and she disarms it with such a distaste, too), whenever she visits the Morales' home she instinctively peaks at Jeff's holster to see if he's armed. I 100% see Gwen becoming anti-gun after she's come to grips with everything. Gwen never really gets over that instant fear that spikes in her whenever she sees a gun in someone's hands.

I thought too hard on Jeff and Gwen and guns and angst and oop, lookie lookie. i just had to go and write a quick lil one-shot/character introspection. See how I tricked you into reading my post with a mildly angsty headcanon. and now I got you. gotchu reading my self-indulgent angsty one-shot ahhauhghhh

I mean this is really the fandom's collective fault for there not being more Gwen and Jeff content. when it's free real estate right dere

~•~

Jefferson Davis really did like Gwen, as bad as he was at showing it. She was.. fascinating! And despite her being a bit rough around the edges, he actually missed her when she wasn't around for more than a day (although that didn't happen often). That much was sure. Oh but God forbid she finds out that he misses her when she's gone for a while. He didn't need her trying harder than she already has been. Ahh, she really does try with him, doesn't she? She tries striking up conversations with him when Miles and Rio aren't in the room, and she LOVED gifting him nicknames he didn't like, and an overly complicated handshake she herself designed for the two of them that he never intended to learn, and she carried this aura of comradery every time she interacted with him, as if they were lifelong pals. He appreciated that she tried to impress him. He liked that that mattered to her that he liked her. There had been times where he found himself chuckling to himself in private when he thought back to the that lame joke she told him. Oh, get this, recently he's had to suppress real, unfabricated laughter at her openers as of late. They still weren't funny, oh God no, but it's just that...he could've sworn that for a moment, it was no longer Gwen standing there before Miles' overbearing father's judgement, but 17 year old Jeff standing before Rio's father. Ughh, it almost ached how much she reminded him of himself at her age. Someone who's seen the worst of the world at such a young age, who wound up in the wrong crowd and fought their way out, motivated by a Morales' love. Someone who grew up too fast, now trying to impress a father who isn't letting his child grow up fast enough. He appreciated her more than he liked her, and he already did like her a lot, honest. Maybe more than he'd like to admit to himself.

Now you got Jeff, who clocks whenever her eyes dart to his side in search of a gun, seeing the way she tenses up when he's got it on him when he's in uniform, and he goes to Miles about it. Miles doesn't give away too many details of the situation (i.e. the George incident) out of respect for Gwen's privacy, but he makes it clear that Gwen tenses up at the mere sight of people armed with guns. It's enough for him to get the picture, and even with whatever pet peeves he and Gwen have with each other, and even though Miles didn't directly ask him to, Jeff immediately stops casually carrying his gun when Gwen is around. If he's on his way to work he doesn't let her see it on him. He waits to arm himself when he's out the door.

Sometimes Miles goes on stake outs as Spider-Man with Captain Morales, and sometimes Spider-Gwen tags along. When she does, Jeff never uses his gun. It may seem stupid to go into the field unarmed, but he'll have to trust the two Spiders to keep him safe (or his trusty taser and baton). Now Gwen has taken notice to the sudden persistent lack of gun on his person whenever she's at their house, but never thought much of it, she's just happy not to see it on a cop who she has to see every day. But now she's seeing him out on patrols unarmed and she's thinking "is he stupid?"

Now she'd almost rather have to keep an eye out for whether or not Jeff is pointing a gun at her instead of having to pay extra attention to her boyfriend's dad's safety while they're beating up criminals.

And it's when he effortlessly disarms this one thug a little too roughly for pointing a gun at Gwen that she gets really suspicious... all of this 'avoiding' using the gun.. was it because of her?? It warms her up inside and she's full of hope for their awkward relationship that up till now has only been more or less a mutual respect and tolerance of each other, bound by the unrecoverable debt of her saving his son and her mildly amusing witticisms doing a decent enough job that he actually does seem to enjoy her company even when Miles isn't around (or maybe she was kidding herself, she didn't know).

The next day he's sitting at the table drinking coffee in uniform before his patrol. Gun in holster. It's not like Gwen's here right n-and here's when he sees the door blast open wide and in she comes through the door. She gets a hug and a kiss on the head from Rio, a hug and a kiss from Miles (he totally didn't avert his eyes when their lips met). Then Jeff rose from his seat with an almost apologetic energy--he was armed with his gun. He would've removed it from his holster and put it away, but he feared that she'd get scared at the sight of him pulling it out, so that'd make things worse. But interestingly, her eyes didn't even dart to his holster, and she practically beamed at Jeff when her gaze met his.

she greeted him her usual way. She saunters over to him with a knowing smirk, he extends his hand to her with a formal "Ms. Stacy" to which she *smacks* her hand right into his at full force and wraps her slender fingers around his comparably massive palm with a powerful squeeze, and calls him "Cap" (her *favorite* nickname for him). But then she *tackles* him into a hug. Well, he could've gone without being wrestled into an embrace (I mean she nearly lifted him off the ground), but he does not hesitate to wrap his big arms around her form nonetheless.

I mean how could he hesitate? She was honestly irresistible with how tone deaf her behavior could be sometimes, trying to please while also missing the mark on what makes for formal behavior, and yeah, watching her made him cringe oh so hard at the memory of himself trying to rake up whatever formalities he could in front of Rio's parents in his youth.

But hey, it worked out for him in the end, hadn't it? Rio had always sworn to him that it didn't take long for her father to give in to Jeff's charms. And now he was witnessing it work out for Gwen Stacy in real time.

He had to guess that the two of them have been doing something right.

#eat your heart out ^^ #atsv #gwen stacy #jefferson davis #spiderverse #spider verse #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #fanfiction #spiderverse fanfic #fanfic #Gwen and Jeff