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#to see whether or not i should do the stream at all
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DUDE, HOLD UP. IT'S ONLY 12-ISH DAYS UNTIL THE NEXT WELCOME HOME UPDATE.
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todayisafridaynight · 9 months
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YEAH NO TONBI GOT HANDS.......... my timing on suggesting it may be Questionable but I AM very glad it holds up as a movie :] hopefully the interview and We Make Antiques are fun diversions! But also take it easy <3 can confirm Nakai is Pretty Moe in both though <3 And I WILL harass you about Masato's VA next week...
TBF YOU SUGGESTED IT A WEEK OR SO AGO twas on me for taking a while to get to it... nevertheless i did really enjoy it thank you..... AND YAYA IM SO STOKED TO WATCH THE FULL INTERVIEW AND WMA2 THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN ☆*: .。. o(≧▽≦)o .。.:*☆!!!!!
esp cant wait to hear about masato's VA in the future.. 👁️👁️
#snap chats#LISTEN i think we all just have to accept at this point any time there's a story about a doting father or fts a doting father#i will cry like its unavoidable. so whether my life's falling apart that week or everything's fine#There Will Be No Difference In How Much I Cry ☠️☠️ im just built terribly what can i say it makes for GREAT inspo tho#tonbi WAS real cute tho and i did enjoy it a lot Because yasu did remind me of my dad a lot#very lucky to say my dad's never slapped me or thrown water in my face tho so LMAO BUT FOR THE MOST PART Yeah...#in a way it weirdly felt like watching an AU of my life. if i may sound insane. listen i already said the kid's name had me twisted LISTEN#fr tho cause ive always wondered what my life wouldve been like if i was able to be raised by my dad instead#im gonna make myself start crying if i get too deep into it LMAO NEEDLESS TO SAY i really enjoyed the movie :)#EVIL that they really did let us see akira get married and now yasu gotta give a speech and If He IS Anything Like My Dad#i know damn well he was winging it and didn't prep a script and I Will Start Crying if i think back to my sis's wedding#STILL MAD THAT THE ONE TIME I HAD TO PISS WAS RIGHT BEFORE HIS SPEECH BUT WHATEVER MOVING ON#said i wasnt gonna talk bout the movie/my dad anymore lest i make myself UPSET yet here i am... always saying more when i shouldnt ☠️#but yeah... i have ONE (1) more comm this week Lest Someone Wants To Snipe A Spot IDK#SO im gon do that :]#and im kinda tired rn... but the uncertainty of how much time i have nowadays urges me to work on it a bit#i dont THINK it should take super long but it IS a full-rendered piece so.... it will take time needless to say#n e way not to sound insane but nakai is An Endearing Chap. is the most sane way i can put it#i mentioned it durin a stream but somethin bout him just naturally exudes cute... idk... im delirious probably ANYWAY BYE FR NOW#CANNOT WAIT for next week to be harassed 🥰🥰
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savethepinecones · 9 days
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i need to stop scrolling through the watcher stuff i feel like im not seeing anything new its just the same arguments over and over again
#i keep seeing stuff i disagree with and wanting to respond but i dont want to argue with people online#and also i feel like i have to word things really carefully#because of Reading Comprehension or lack thereof#and i dont have the energy to write a fucking essay about whether or not the people who want to make high quality videos should move to a#not saying its your fault either. shit is fucked. but#service where they have a regular monthly income#or make the lower quality stuff that was good and that fans liked but that the creators themselves werent happy with#their current budget didnt allow them to make the quality of stuff they wanted to while paying all of their employees well#so theyre doing something that they thought would help solve that#idk people keep saying theyre fans because of the creators rather than the quality of the art#but the creators want to make higher quality stuff#and instead of encouraging the creators to make what they want to make people are tearing into them#like you dont have to subscribe to the channel. no one is making you do that#it is not shane or ryan or stevens fault that you cant afford a subscription fee#they dont control the economy or grocery inflation etc#theyre paying their employees well and thats all the control they have over anyones income#theyre doing what little they can#i just think if youre gonna complain about the excessive number of streaming services and the high costs for them#the independent companies trying to make good content in line with good values while paying everyone involved what theyre worth#are maybe not the ones you should be blaming for the situation#when there are behemoths like netflix who dont give a shit about their content and prioritize profit over everything else
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Hi- er, this is my first-ever writer's strike, how does one not cross a picket line in this context? I know how not to do it with things like Amazon and IRL strikes, but how does it apply to media/streaming?
Hi, this is a great question, because it allows me to write about the difference between honoring a picket line and a boycott. (This is reminding me of the labor history podcast project that's lain fallow in my drafts folder for some time now...) In its simplest formulation, the difference between a picket line and a boycott is that a picket line targets an employer at the point of production (which involves us as workers), whereas a boycott targets an employer at the point of consumption (which involves us as consumers).
So in the case of the WGA strike, this means that at any company that is being struck by the WGA - I've seen Netflix, Amazon, Apple, Disney, Warner Brothers Discovery, NBC, Paramount, and Sony mentioned, but there may be more (check the WGA website and social media for a comprehensive list) - you do not cross a picket line, whether physical or virtual. This means you do not take a meeting with them, even if its a pre-existing project, you do not take phone calls or texts or emails or Slacks from their executives, you do not pitch them on a spec script you've written, and most of all you do not answer any job application.
Because if this strike is like any strike since the dawn of time, you will see the employers put out ads for short-term contracts that will be very lucrative, generally above union scale - because what they're paying for in addition to your labor is you breaking the picket line and damaging the strike - to anyone willing to scab against their fellow workers. GIven that one of the main issues of the WGA are the proliferation of short-term "mini rooms" whereby employers are hiring teams of writers to work overtime for a very short period, to the point where they can only really do the basics (a series outline, some "broken stories," and some scripts) and then have the showrunner redo everything on their lonesome, while not paying writers long-term pay and benefits, I would imagine we're going to see a lot of scab contracts being offered for these mini rooms.
But for most of us, unless we're actively working as writers in Hollywood, most of that isn't going to be particularly relevant to our day-to-day working lives. If you're not a professional or aspiring Hollywood writer, the important thing to remember honoring the picket line doesn't mean the same thing as a boycott. WGA West hasn't called on anyone to stop going to the movies or watching tv/streaming or to cancel their streaming subscriptions or anything like that. If and when that happens, WGA will go to some lengths to publicize that ask - and you should absolutely honor it if you can - so there will be little in the way of ambiguity as to what's going on.
That being said, one of the things that has happened in the past in other strikes is that well-intentioned people get it into their heads to essentially declare wildcat (i.e, unofficial and unsanctioned) boycotts. This kind of stuff comes from a good place, someone wanting to do more to support the cause and wanting to avoid morally contaminating themselves by associating with a struck company, but it can have negative effects on the workers and their unions. Wildcat boycotts can harm workers by reducing back-end pay and benefits they get from shows if that stuff is tied to the show's performance, and wildcat boycotts can hurt unions by damaging negotiations with employers that may or may not be going on.
The important thing to remember with all of this is that the strike is about them, not us. Part of being a good ally is remembering to let the workers' voices be heard first and prioritizing being a good listener and following their lead, rather than prioritizing our feelings.
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alvojake · 3 months
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Scream For Me | Y.JW
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「paring」 : ghostface!bf!jungwon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.4k
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「synopsis」 : word of a masked serial killer spreads like wildfire in your small town, but it never fully sets in until you come face-to-face with the very killer who just so happens to be your sweet boyfriend and he has an ulterior motive.
「genre」 : pure smut with some plot, horror/thriller, angst, serial killer au
「warning」 : jungwon is a killer, blood, dom!jungwon x sub!reader, knife play, cursing, fingering, petnames (baby, princess, my love, slut), won is MEAN, messy, oral (f. receiving), jungwon is kinda manipulative in the beginning, degradation, dacryphilia, choking, minor hair pulling, making out, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), thigh riding, teasing, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, marking, breeding kink, creampie, passing out, slight manhandling, I feel like I def missed a few things, pls lmk!
「note」 : so I kinda went a little crazy with this one... this has been a serious brainrot so I hope you enjoy it! also, it's only been lightly edited!
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The room suddenly felt ten times colder than it did just moments before, your heart was racing and you could hear it through your ears. Your phone was tightly clutched in your hand as your eyes scanned all of the windows in your house, his words still ringing in your head.
“It’s such a shame, a pretty thing like you left your doors unlocked…”
Word of a serial killer in your small town had gotten to you, but you never really thought much of it because, of course, you were always with your boyfriend. However, the one night that he had family matters to attend to was the very night this killer decided to make his move.
Tears had already pooled in your eyes, terror filling your veins. The person had used a voice changer so it wasn’t like you could try to figure out who it was by their voice. You stood in your kitchen racking your brain for possibilities on who this masked killer could be, all while your front door creaked open quietly.
The sound of your floorboards creaking caught your attention, head turned in the direction of the noise. Without a second thought, you started slowly walking down the hall. It was almost like the fear had made you lose all your common sense, doing things you swore you’d never do while watching horror movies. 
“Hello?” Your meek voice called out, bouncing off of the empty halls, gaining no response besides a small echo of your own voice. 
A scream tore through your throat as a vase next to you fell and shattered, glass fragments scattering all around your bare feet. Looking down with wide, teary eyes, you try to tiptoe around the broken shards without cutting yourself. 
‘What did I do to deserve this…?’
The tears finally spilled from your eyes as you made it to the end of the hall, seeing your front door wide open. This was actually going to be the end, wasn’t it? You’d never get to finish school like you planned, you’d never get to hang out with your friends anymore, see your parents at dinner, or volunteer at the animal shelter with Jungwon. Jungwon. Oh, how you wish you could talk to your sweet boyfriend one last time, tell him that everything would be okay and that you love him.
You were torn from your thoughts as a loud crash was heard from upstairs causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. Cries fell from your lips as you looked between the open door and the stairs, debating on whether you should just run for it.
‘Why the fuck am I even asking that?’ 
You turn, making your way to the front door, however, before you could step through the threshold you heard a voice.
“Y/n? Baby?” 
Your heart dropped at the sound of your boyfriend's voice, why is he here? Turning away from the door, hands trembling as you reached for the railing of the stairs. “Won?” Your voice cracked as you tried peeking up the stairs, but saw nothing.
“Baby, help me please.” He sounded like he was on the verge of tears and it broke you, tears streaming down your face, sobs falling from your lips. 
Whether it was the fear or the need to save your boyfriend you turn and go back down the hallway, stepping over the glass once more. As if luck wasn’t on your side at all, you ended up stepping on a stray piece of glass causing a sharp pain to shoot up your leg. A loud cry left your lips as you leaned against a wall, the phone falling from your hand.
Tears continued to stream down your flushed face as you grabbed your foot to look at the damage done. Biting your lip you grab the shard before pulling it from your foot, a trail of crimson blood following after it.
Another crash from upstairs reminded you of the situation once more and you scrambled to the kitchen, straight to the knife stand. Grabbing one of the bigger knives, your hands trembling as you made your way back to the stairs, walking through the living room so as to not step on any more glass. 
You call out for your boyfriend once more as you take the steps slowly, leaving a trail of red behind you. However, you were met with silence.
Terror struck you as you got to the top of the step, there were boot prints on the ground that you hadn’t noticed before, leading straight to your bedroom. Holding the knife defensively in front of you, hands trembling, you move to the ajar door, pushing it open.
Your eyes went wide as the door swung open, there was your boyfriend, on his knees in the middle of your room.
“Jungwon!” You quickly made your way towards him, throwing all caution to the wind to make sure he was okay. The knife fell from your hands as you dropped to your knees in front of him, the sound of soft cries falling from his lips. “Hold on, I'll get you out of here.” Panic and worry surge through you, going to untie his hands from behind him, only to realize. He wasn’t tied up.
“Oh y/n, y/n, y/n.” The cries turned into laughter as he lifted his head meeting your eyes. Jungwon watched in amusement as the worry on your face morphed into terror. You try to reach for the knife that you discarded, but you aren’t quick enough. Jungwon snatched the object off of the ground, “Ahahah now my love, don’t act too rash now.” he chuckled as he towered over your trembling form.
The sight of the tears falling from your beautiful doe eyes as you looked up at him caused his cock to twitch behind his pants. 
Your eyes trailed from his blood-speckled face down the length of his body before falling on the mask in his left hand. The same Ghostface mask that the police have reported the killer to always be wearing. Looking back up you met Jungwon’s eyes as realization set in. The man before you, your boyfriend, the same man who would never hurt a bug, was a cold-blooded killer.
Jungwon smirked as he crouched down in front of you, moonlight gleaming off of the knife in his hand. You watched him in fear, fear of what he was going to do with you. Was he going to kill you? Or was all of this some sick joke his friend put him up to, but with the curfew in town set you knew that'd be hard to pull off.
“Why are you so surprised, my love? I thought you were smarter than this.” His voice was cold, nothing like the warm and sweet one you were used to. Then his words registered in your brain, what did he mean? Taking in your confused expression he brought his hand with the mask, taping a gloved finger to his temple, “Use that pretty head of yours.”
As you thought more and more about how the killings always lined up when he wasn’t with you, the more you started to realize that it had been right under your nose. 
Jungwon watched with a sadistic smile as he noticed your shaking die down, as well as your breathing evened out. Even in this insane situation, your body was subconsciously relaxing in his presence. 
“It was really you?” Your voice shook as you looked back up at him, tears silently flowing down your face.
Jungwon just hummed with a nod, “Yep.” he popped the ‘p’ as he brought the knife closer to his face, inspecting it. “It’s therapeutic honestly, you should try it sometime, I know how stressed you get.”
You swallowed thickly as you watched the light bounce off of the sharp metal, your fear was slowly melting away. Noticing your lingering gaze, Jungwon pointed the knife towards you, the sharp point barely a centimeter away from your nose. Your breath hitched, eyes wide as you looked from the weapon to your boyfriend's dark eyes.
“Don’t be getting any funny ideas now, princess.” His tone is dark, making your stomach flip. 
“I wasn’t…” Letting out a shaky breath you reach forward cautiously still believing that he would never hurt you, grabbing his wrist and pulling the object away from your face. “I wasn’t going to, Won, I swear.”
He chuckled darkly before dropping his mask to encase your throat in his palm, squeezing hard enough to limit your oxygen. Pushing your body down roughly until your back was flat on the cold ground, his body caging yours underneath him. He traced the knife down the side of your face, a crazed look in his eyes causing a whimper to leave your lips, rubbing your thighs together.
Your head started to spin as so many emotions started to spiral, but fear and lust were the ones to overthrow the others. Why was this turning you on? You were supposed to be fighting to get his hand off your throat, but you only hoped he’d squeeze more. The knife that was so close to cutting your skin only excited you more. Then his face, god his face covered in blood was a sight you didn’t know you needed.
Noticing how you started to squirm underneath him, Jungwon smirked, squeezing your throat more. A broken moan tore through your lips as your eyes screwed shut, heat pooling in your lower gut.
“Are you enjoying this?” He leaned closer to your face, warm breath brushing across your lips. Your eyes fluttered open to show him the need and lust that swirled in them causing him to smile, his teeth peeking out from between his lips. “Such a dirty slut,”
He pulled away slightly to trailed the blade over your collarbone, before moving to hook the knife under your shirt. You whined as the sounds of your top ripping filled the room.
“And you’re not wearing a bra, such a naughty girl.” He teased as he placed the blade back on your bare skin, tracing the tip down the valley of your breast leaving goosebumps in its wake. A shaky sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your boyfriend, whose gaze was already on you, studying your reactions.
When he brought the blade to the sensitive skin of your nipple, you cried out, head falling back. Jungwon could feel himself growing even harder in his jeans, never knowing his sweet little girlfriend would enjoy something so dirty. Then he got ideas of how he could torture you until you were begging for his cock.
A broken ‘please’ fell from your lips causing Jungwon to look at you with a sadistic smirk, dragging the blade away from your boob, and down your stomach. When he got closer to your core, your hips bucked causing the knife to puncture your skin. Your head fell back with a moan at the sudden pain, it ignited a new kind of flame in your gut.
“Fuck.” Jungwon cursed as he watched in amazement at how your body was reacting. He pulled the blade away from your skin resulting in a whine from you. Blood trickled from the small cut flowing down your side before meeting the band of your sleep shorts, dying the fabric red.
He chuckled as he watched you squirm under his hold, your hands trying to reach him. Letting go of your throat you let out a gasp before he grabbed the back of your head, his lips smashing into yours. A small yelp of surprise fell from your lips before melting into his lips, matching his pace, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.
His free hand trailed down your sensitive skin making you moan into his mouth, his fingers tracing circles on the inside of your thigh as he got closer to your core. Your hips buck into his hand desperate for his touch.
"Hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" Jungwon whispered against your lips before biting your bottom lip, nearly drawing blood. You whimpered at the pain before he pulled your lip into his mouth, sucking harshly making your head spin.
His fingers slipped past the waistband of your bottom, smearing blood on your abdomen in the process. Your jaw fell slack, a moan falling from your parted lips as his finger brushed against your slit.
“Such a dirty, dirty girl, I’ve barely done anything and you’re already so wet.” He berated you, watching you whine, tears pooling in your eyes because your body felt so hot and he wasn’t doing anything to help, just watching with that same smirk on his lips.
“Please, Jungwon, please please.” You sounded like a broken record begging for him to do something.
However, he pulled his hand from your pussy and moved away from your body altogether. You moved yourself to sit up, watching him with wide eyes as he walked towards your bed, pulling the gloves off of his hands. He sat on the edge of the bed before looking over at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Well? Get over here.” His voice was rough, with a hint of annoyance as he watched you continue to sit on the ground. Seeing anger flash across his face made your stomach turn causing you to scramble to your feet. 
Jungwon watched as you meekly walked towards him, your boobs bouncing slightly with each step you took. When you stood before him, he looked up at you taking in the sight of you looking right at the bulge in his jeans shamelessly.
“If you wanna cum so badly…” His voice broke your trance making you meet his eyes as he grabbed your hips, pulling you into his lap. You whined as you felt his bulge press right against your clothed core. “Then ride my thigh.”
“But-” “It’s my thigh or nothing, princess. I’m not lifting a finger to help you get off.” He cut you off, getting ready to push you off of him, but you grabbed his shoulders telling him to wait.
Your face flushed in embarrassment, he’s never asked for anything like this any other time you’ve had sex. He was always sweet and making sure you were taken care of, but seeing this new side of him was a sort of whiplash.
As you moved to straddle his thigh, he removed his hands from your hips using them to support himself as he leaned back. Watching as you started rocking back and forth on his thigh, hands fisting his shirt trying to ground yourself. Sigh-like moans leave your lips as you spread your legs further trying to gain more friction.
Jungwon watched in amusement as your body shuddered in pleasure, trying to keep yourself balanced. However, the closer you got to your climax the more rushed your movements became and the volume of your moans increased.
“Wonnie please…” You whined as you slumped forward, legs growing numb due to the overwhelming pleasure. Jungwon knew you were close because of the way your jaw fell slack and your knuckles turned white due to gripping his shirt so tight.
“Oh come on baby, you’re not tired already, are you?” He mocked you as you continued to whine out, rocking your hips furiously. Wanting to prove him wrong you sat up a little bit more, your head falling back. 
Your high was so dangerously close that you could taste it, “W-Won!”
“Go on, cum on my thigh like the desperate slut you are.” His words had you tipping over the edge, your body shaking as you rode out your orgasm. Jungwon sat up taking your hips in his hands once more, pulling them further down on his thigh, a loud moan leaving your lips. He continued to rock you against him, forcing your body into overstimulation.
“W-Won- fuck, ‘s too much.” You whimper, head falling into the crook of his neck, hand on his bicep.
“But you were so desperate to cum baby, I’m just helping you.” He chuckled as he felt your body shudder, face still buried in his neck. Leaning forward a bit he pressed a kiss to your shoulder making your body tingle. 
You could feel another high creeping up on you, “Won… I’m close.” Another, softer moan left your lips as you kissed his neck. He flexed his thigh underneath you causing your body to tremble as another orgasm washed over you, groaning against his neck.
Jungwon didn’t give you a second to rest, picking you up and laying you on the bed. Not even a second later his lips were on your neck sucking harshly leaving bright red marks in his wake. A loud moan broke through your lips as he bit down on your collarbone, hand flying to his head. 
He left a trail of his marks down your chest before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, your back arching pushing further into his mouth. Your fingers tugged his hair against his nape causing him to groan against your skin, hands on your hips pulling your body flush against his.
“You taste so sweet, baby.” He raised his head, his eyes holding an animalistic gleam, “but I bet your pussy tastes sweeter.” Your head falls back as he cups your core, pressing against your clothed core. With a devilish smirk, he lets his lips trail down your tummy, licking your wound and letting the crimson liquid coat his tongue. 
Looking down you felt like you wanted to combust at the sight of him tracing his tongue along the trail of dried blood. When he got to the hem of your shorts he pulled away, meeting your eyes as he tugged them down your legs. Watching the way you held your breath, eyes following his hands until the cloth was completely off of your body. 
Throwing them to the side, Jungwon turned back to you taking in the sight of your body, completely bare before him. Grabbing your ankle he brought it to his shoulder pressing a kiss on your calf watching as you squirmed under him, your lip between your teeth keeping from letting any sounds slip.
“Why are you so quiet now baby?” He asked as he trailed to your inner thigh listening to your breath hitch. Getting closer to your core, he blew on it watching the way your hole clenched around nothing. Chuckling darkly he laid your leg over her shoulder before licking a long stripe up your slit collecting your juices and cum on his tongue, humming at the taste. Your hands go to tangle in his hair, but he stops you. “Ah, hands behind your back.”
“But-” “Now, or I’ll tie you to the headboard and you won’t get to touch me at all.” He threatened and you whined but followed his instructions nonetheless. Arching your back enough to place your arms underneath before laying back down, trapping them.
Satisfied with your actions he goes back down on you, harshly sucking on your clit, eliciting a loud cry from your lips. He hummed against you, finally getting you to release your sounds again. He continued to devour your pussy like a starved man, broken moans and cries fell from your parted lips, hips bucking against his face.
His hand that was holding your hip moved to press down on your stomach, keeping you in place. Your eyes rolled back as you felt his tongue against your gummy walls, his nose pressing against your clit deliciously. 
“You taste heavenly my love,” He groaned against you, making your head spin, a cry of his name leaving your lips, fingers digging into the sheets under you. When he pressed two fingers into you so easily you felt like you could cum then and there. 
His pace was relentless as he pumped his fingers into you while switching between soft and hard sucks on your clit. The sensation was driving you insane and you felt like you could scream. 
You didn’t even give him a warning when you came as his fingers brushed over your sweet spot. Your vision turned white as you screamed his name, everything becoming extremely overwhelming, but he didn’t let up on his pace, dragging your orgasm out as long as he possibly could. You tried to get away from him as you felt another orgasm creeping up quickly, but his grip was too strong.
“Scream for me again princess, let the neighbors know who’s making you feel so good.” He smirked as he looked at you, his lower face glistening in your juices. His fingers continued to abuse your sweet spot until your whole body shook.
“OH MY GOD!” You cried out as your fourth orgasm of the night hit you like a tidal wave. Jungwon watched smugly as you rode out your high on his fingers before pulling them from your needy hole.
You whined softly at the sudden empty feeling and he laid your trembling leg down on the bed before leaning over you, pressing his lips against yours. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, he pulled your arms out from underneath you.
He grabbed your hand before leading it down his torso before groaning as your fingertips brushed against his clothes cock.
“You feel that baby?” He hissed through his teeth as you pressed your palm against him, “It’s all because of you and you’re gonna help me right?” He asked as he nipped at your jaw earning a whine from you, “gonna let me fuck this slutty pussy right?” You moaned as he moved your hand to your own sopping cunt. 
“P-Please.” You begged looking at him, eyes pleading with him.
“Please what princess?” He brought your hand to his mouth, licking your juices off of your own fingers, “you want my cock?” You nodded, biting your lip, eyes never leaving his. He grabbed your other wrist before pinning your hands next to your head, rolling his hips against yours, a moan tore through your lips. His lips ghosted over yours, “I wanna hear you say it.” 
His eyes bore into yours, your bottom lip quivering. With another roll of his hip, your brain turned into mush. Your hands balled into fists, eyes screwing shut, “fuck, Wonnie please, I want your cock in me so bad, fuck me please, Wonnie, please.” You rambled on as Jungwon watched you lose yourself smugly. He doesn’t know why he didn’t try this earlier, this was the hottest he’s ever seen you and it made him ten times harder. 
Releasing his hold on you he moved back to pull his shirt over his head leaving you to ogle at his bare torso. Reaching out you let your finger brush against his skin before he gave you a look making you retract your hand worried he’d deny you of his cock for longer.
Undoing his belt and unzipping his pants he pulled them down along with his underwear letting his dick spring free. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, yearning for it even more. Noticing your gaze Jungwon smirked, moving closer to you and grabbing your thighs pulling you closer to the edge of the bed.
“I haven’t even put it in yet and you already look like you’re about to cum.” He teased as he slapped the tip of his cock against your clit making you whine and squirm. A smug smirk tugged on his as he lined his tip up with your entrance watching your eyes roll.
“Fuck.”  You cursed as he pushed in before stilling and grabbing your hips to keep you from moving them, a whine leaving your lips.
Without any warning, he thrusted into you stealthing his length in you in one go causing you to quite literally scream his name, nails digging into the sheets. He smiled sadistically as he leaned down next to your ear, pushing deeper into you.
“You just love getting fucked by a serial killer don’t you y/n?” He nipped at your ear, “I bet you’d love it even more if I wore the mask huh?” Your brain was foggy, not able to voice a single thing, but your body did the talking for you. Jungwon groaned as he felt you tighten around him, squeezing his dick like you never wanted him to leave. “You’re such a dirty slut.” He berated you with a smile before he pulled his hip back until only his tip was left in you.
He thrusted his hips back into you, a moan leaving your lips as your eyes rolled back. He kept the brutal pace, his hand that was on your hip traveled up to your neck, squeezing and making you squeak. Tears fell from your eyes, drool spilling from the corner of your lips as you babbled nonsense. 
Jungwon could feel himself grow even harder at the sight of your fucked out state, taking in your teary eyes that would look at him before rolling back when he hit a particular spot in your cunt.
“God, you feel so good, princess.” He groaned as you squeezed around him, he had been hard for so long that he knew he wasn’t going to last long, not if your pussy kept squeezing him like this. “Fuck I’m not gonna last, I need you to cum for me, baby.” He breathed out as he grabbed your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. The new angle had you seeing stars, your vision quite literally going dark, a pitiful squeak falling from your swollen lips. “I’m gonna stuff you full of my cum and you’re gonna take every last drop like the good little slut you are.”
His words were your tipping point, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan and Jungwon groaned loudly as you squeezed him so hard, pushing him over as well.
His cum painted your walls white as he continued to fuck it into you and you were milking him for all he was worth as your walls continued to pulse around him. He felt your body go limp against his making him look up at your face seeing that you had passed out.
“Aww, how cute…” He cooed as he continued to roll his hips into yours until he went completely soft inside you. “Don’t worry I’ll take care of you.”
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@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
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joonberriess · 6 months
Text
animal farm. ☆ j.jk + k.th
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⋆ TAGS — dark!tae + jk, morals are zero bc it’s the apocalypse, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, TW: non-con to dub-con as oc adapts to survive, captivity, breeding kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampies, pregnant sex, fingering, creepy sleazy!tae, yandere elements, open-ending beware it’s not a good one, angst, death (just the zombies lol), jk’s a hunky daddy, possessive tae and jk, obsession, somnophilia, mentioned abortion, “fuck them kids” - oc, debatable happy ending, misogyny and objectification, outdoor sex(?), thigh fucking, mentioned/hints of body dysmorphia bc oc DOES NOT want to be pregnant
⋆ WORD COUNT — 13.3k
⋆ now playing: animal farm - bibi ⋆
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You’re not sure how much time has passed since the outbreak—days, months, years—time was a relatively foreign concept, all that was left was to survive. Didn’t matter what day of the week it was or whether it was night or day, the days were all the same in the end.
The day it happened started like any other day: you woke to a flurry of messages wishing you happy birthday, and you were greeted by the sight of your pup running around in excitement as you prepared for the day. You were going to work a short shift that day (courtesy of your boss) all your co-workers had pitched in to buy you a nice cake from the bakery down the street. Your mom even promised to call you later on given the distance between you and her.
Everything was just as you remembered—a blue sky, people commuting, the sounds of traffic—it was just another regular day. After work you stopped to buy a bottle of wine, too busy chatting with the cashier to notice the storm of police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks passing by. The rest of the way home you listened to music, blissfully unaware of the nearby fires and rising smoky black skies.
Night came, prepared a delicious pasta and served a rather large serving of wine. Your dog sat by the front door the entire time, posture stiff and tail straight as he stared at seemingly nothing. That should have been the first sign.. After setting the pasta aside to cool your phone rang and you smiled. “Mom-”
“Listen to me,” she sounded desperate, “do NOT go outside, no matter what you hear or see y/n, STAY INSIDE.” She bites out in a fearful tone, “Your father and I are going to try and head over there, for the love of God please stay inside.”
“Mom, what's happening? Is everything okay? Are you and dad oka-” Suddenly the sound of a nearby building blowing up makes you jump. Your apartment rattles and you lose your balance, falling over as the phone slides away from you, “Mom?!” You scramble to your feet and run to the windows, yanking them all the way back to reveal the chaos unfolding..
The world around you is in flames, people are running and cars are being crashed or abandoned. You see helicopters storming the sky all around, endless police cars are scattered below your apartment and you hear the sounds of gunshots from every direction. Your eyes widen in horror as a plane comes crashing down somewhere downtown, and then more screams erupt alongside a few rather..inhuman sounds.
“y/n?! y/n?!” You snap your attention back to the fallen phone.
“M-Mom?” You crouch down and pick up the phone, “What’s happening?” You tearfully whisper. You hear the same chaos unfolding on the other side of the line, your dad is yelling something in the background while your mom tries to tell you a bunch of things all at once.
“Oh my sweet girl,” she softly whispers in a wobbly tone, “we love you so much, never forget that.” You hear a gunshot and your dad yelling some more, “Get to your uncle,” she cuts off by a loud screeching noise, “we’ll meet you there—!” She gasps as the screeching turns into animalistic noises, “Never forget—we love you.” The line cuts dead. You stand there in complete silence with an endless flow of tears streaming down your face.
The wine and pasta sat cold all night, then the night after that, and after that. If you were to go back there you’d probably see what was left of your apartment, most likely scavenged and destroyed by either survivors or whatever the hell those things were.
And to think that it had been just another random day..
You never did get to see your parents. You wondered if they died on their way to the farm or if they never stood a chance leaving in the first place. You like to believe they’re out there somewhere safe, that they found refuge with other groups far away from chaos. Like your father had once said: you keep finding something to fight for.
And that’s what you intended.
+
“Dammit.” You whispered under your breath while pushing through the endless shrubs and tree branches in your way.
By now every city was covered from head to toe in vines and other plant life. Apart from the obvious decay everything would have looked normal if it weren’t for the fact that there was a darkness lingering in the shadows. Cars, bikes, and trucks were scattered around, sitting as a reminder of the way things were once. It played like a bittersweet memory in the back of your mind as you pushed forward.
You brushed your hands over the front of your shorts and looked around the area. It was quiet all around with the only sounds being the wind blowing the overgrown grass all around. You had finally made it to Daegu after walking for two months straight. Your body ached and you were sure your feet had blisters from all the walking (occasional running) you did.
A few times (more than you would like to admit) you reached a breaking point where you wanted nothing more than to give up and go back to your uncle’s farm. Yet somehow some-way you would regain your strength and keep pushing—for family. It’s how you ended up all the way down in Daegu, just another month or two (maybe three) away from Busan.
You were far too deep to stop now.
You uncapped your water jug and took greedy sips as the water ran down your chin and throat. “That’s better.” You murmur softly as your parched throat absorbs every last drop of the water. You take a second to sit down on a nearby rock to bring your map out.
“Okay.. If I’m here,” you trail off while running your finger over the lines of the map, “then that means I go this way..and turn here to—” You immerse yourself in your own thoughts, ignoring the sound of your stomach growling. You shift from side to side, ignoring the heavy weight of your shotgun tucked away in your backpack, sticking out like a sore thumb.
So far you didn’t need to use the gun (yet), your encounters with those unruly beasts were minimal since they had taken to hiding in buildings. Crazed survivors were unlikely, most were hidden away too and if they were out you simply snuck past them until you felt like you could breathe again. You’d say you were doing a pretty damn good job at conserving your ammo etc.
“Alright,” you sigh heavily and put your map away, “up I go.” You mumble and start heading down the grassy street, just looking all over the area. You always did want to visit Daegu, guess it was your lucky day.
The street comes to a dead end as you stop in front of two tilted buildings crashed into each other with endless rubble surrounding the area. “Just my luck,” you groan out, seeing as there isn’t another option as you hop up the rubble, making your way into the dark desolate building.
With every step you take your heart begins beating faster, chances that those things are swarming the building are high. Your heart drops even more when you realize that the only way out that was straight ahead of you is blocked off by debris. You stop in the middle of the room, looking up as you inhale deeply.
“Only way out is going up then..” You mutter and grab your flashlight.
Everything is silent around you save for the drops of water hitting the ground and echoing off the empty halls. You work your way around the decaying bodies and thrown furniture surrounding the halls. Finding another way out of the building was something you had not planned on doing, but it seemed like you were going to have to get to higher ground to scope the surroundings out for an exit.
“Ah-ha,” you light up when you realize this building has balconies. A triumphant smile forms on your lips as you head up a small flight of stairs to reach the next floor where the balconies were located. You kept a close eye and ear out for any strange movements, you weren’t alone after all.
As you move to step over a piece of debris, suddenly a large part of the ground rumbles before breaking off and falling through the second floor. Your entire body goes still. You begin breathing heavily as you shakily reach for the shotgun in your backpack. Seconds of silence pass, you stand there with the shotgun in your hands and your face twisted in fear.
Nothing happens until you hear it..
A low faint croaking sound—click, click, click—there’s soft thuds as the creature moves around, getting closer and closer. You’re too scared to turn around or even make a sound. The floor behind you creaks and the creature gets closer, idly squeaking and croaking. Your only mistake is letting out a fearful breath, because suddenly the creature stops and screeches loudly, lunging at you at full speed.
You take off down the hall, pushing past the stone and rubble with the damned thing hot on your heels. Right as you think it’s about to snatch you right up with its bubbly deteriorating arms, an arm lunges out and yanks you into a room pressing you right up against the wall. You flinch violently and stare at the mysterious person in front of you, you can’t help but tremble as you open your mouth.
The stranger gives you a pointed look, slamming his hand over your mouth as he presses himself tight against you, “If you don’t wanna end up dead just sit the fuck still and be quiet,” he harshly whispers while looking out the corner of his eye to see if the creature is still after you.
Your grip on your shotgun loosens, you both stare at each other in silence as the creature stops outside of the room, croaking as it looks for you. When the thing comes close by the open doorway you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath. It doesn’t go away for another few minutes, when it does it ventures into another room across the hall, its noises slowly fading away until it’s fully gone.
The guy lifts a finger over his mouth and softly makes a “shh” sound. You nod slowly and he slowly lifts his hand off, “Follow me,” he quietly mutters and grabs your hand. You don’t even struggle as he leads you far away from the room, and out some doors that lead to a fire escape. “Careful, the metals all worn out. Don’t need you fallin’ on me.” He says as he begins climbing down.
You stand there quietly trying to think if it’s a good idea to follow this guy. Probably not but you were the one with the gun here, not him. “You coming or what?” He says in annoyance, already halfway down the ladders.
You snap out of it and quickly follow, “Yeah, yeah.” You softly whisper.
When you reach the last set of ladders the stranger is already waiting for you down on the ground, he watches you silently with no expression on his face. “C’mere,” he holds his arms out, “I’ll catch you.” You shouldn’t be so trusting but for some reason you just let yourself fall into his arms. A quiet yelp escapes your lips as you curl into yourself out of fear, “Relax, scary part’s over.” He lets out a deep chuckle.
“T-Thank you,” you mutter, still shaken up over the incident, “I really appreciate what you did back there, I haven’t seen those things since this entire thing started. I guess I wasn’t so prepared to go against one up close like that,” you mutter while kicking a rock around.
He shrugs, “I don’t think anyone can ever be prepared to face off against one of those things.” He sighs while looking around, “You got somewhere you gotta be or you just like wandering into abandoned buildings in your free time?” He shoves his hands into his pockets, a small grin grazing his lips.
It’s not the best idea to ever tell a stranger where you’re going especially given the situation the entire world is in. “I was just trying to scavenge,” you finally say after a few seconds, “I was running out of a few things so I decided to get some air while I was out.” You can’t keep eye contact with him for the love of your own life. His gaze is pretty intense and he seemed like the type of person who kept eye contact throughout an entire conversation.
“Ah,” he nods, “I was too, but then I heard the commotion and decided to see what was up, and you were there.” He chuckles, “Kim Taehyung.” He holds his hand out.
“y/n.” You reply softly and take his much bigger hand into yours, “Well, I think I’ll be going now. Can’t keep my group waiting.” You trail off nervously when his grip tightens instead of letting you go, “Um, Taehyung..? My hand?” You whisper out.
Taehyung hums, “It’s getting pretty late isn’t it? Sun down is around the corner and well, it doesn’t seem pretty ideal to walk around all by yourself in the dark now is it?” He tilts his head.
He’s right, you can see the sun start to set slowly and the world around you is painted in a dark orange-yellow hue. Your little lie wasn’t going to keep up much longer if he decides to walk you to your “group”. You nod slowly, “Yeah.. I guess so.” You rub the side of your arm as a chilly breeze sweeps over the both of you.
“Wanna come back with me to my place? Not far, just a ten minute walk from here, even got working water and electricity.” You perk up at the last two things which ends up making him laugh, “Yeah I know, you’ll see what I mean.” He begins pulling you along with him, hand wrapped tightly around your wrist.
“I wouldn’t wanna intrude or anything,” you quickly say, “I can just go back to my group, ‘s not a problem really.” You wince a little when his grip begins to become painful.
Taehyung shakes his head, “ ‘s not safe out here at night, just stop being stubborn will you? You looked ready to give up back there with just one of those things, now imagine dozens?” He chuckles humorlessly with his head still turned away, you sigh quietly and go limp finding it no use to fight back because he clearly wasn’t going to let you go which in itself looked like an entire red flag.
He leads you to another building, you notice the slight change in temperature when you walk into the darkened lobby, it’s slightly warmer.. “How did you get the electricity to work?” You wonder out loud while looking around.
“Turns out the power generator wasn’t completely ruined, wasn’t very hard to get it going again and well, now we have working water and electricity.” He shrugs while guiding you down the hall and stopping in front of a door.
You frown in confusion, “We?” You tilt your head, “There’s someone else?” Oh this wasn’t what you were expecting, now you had to stay alert for not only Taehyung but his fucking friend too.
“Yeah, Jungkook.” He says like nothing while punching in the keycode, “He’s one of the guys I met when this all happened, we stayed together—no not like that,” he chuckles, “he’s a good friend of mine.” He gives you a bright smile before pushing the door open.
You’re hit with warmth and light, the entire room is lit up and you can smell something cooking in the kitchen. This makes you reminisce about the past when you would be coming home after a long day at work, cooking something up and unwinding with your pup on the couch. Your heart twists bitterly as you clutch your backpack closer, you hear noises come from the kitchen and you turn your head in alarm.
“Relax, that’s Jungkook.” Taehyung chuckles as he guides you into the living room with his hands over your shoulders, “Jungkook, this is y/n and y/n, Jungkook.” He cheerfully introduces you two like you’re longtime friends or something, “I saved her from a clicker just now.” He briefly says to Jungkook.
Jungkook gives you one good look, dark eyes trailing over you before he turns his back, “You guys hungry?” He breaks the tension in the room, it has you sagging in relief that he wasn’t rude or didn’t see you as a threat. “She looks like she’s seen better days, don’t be fucking rude Tae let her shower n shit the food is almost ready anyways.” He comments while shaking some spices into the food he was making.
“Oh shit, forgot about that. C’mere, bathroom’s this way.” Taehyung pushes you down another hall, “Hot water n everything so go crazy. Clean towel’s there, and you’re welcome to help yourself to anything in there. I have some extra razors, don’t know if you’d need them or anything I don’t know but yeah.” He smiles, “See you when you’re done.” He leaves after that.
You stand in the bathroom quietly for a few seconds, you don’t like the ugly little feeling you get in your tummy from being around these guys. You’re grateful and all but you can’t help the distrusting feeling you get. With a heavy sigh you set your things down and begin undressing out of your clothes. The water feels so amazing against your sore muscles, you stand under the shower just basking in the luxury of hot water with your eyes closed.
Cleanup goes fairly quickly, you helped yourself to one of the razors Taehyung mentioned to you and took your time in scrubbing the dirt and grime off of your body. Now that you think about it, it made sense earlier as to why Taehyung didn’t look dirty or anything. This explains a whooolleeee lot now.
“Hey y/n,” Taehyung calls out as the door opens, “Came to give you something.” He says like it’s no big deal at all while he enters the bathroom.
“T-Taehyung..!” You gasp in shock, throwing yourself into the corner of the shower while staring at the curtains in terror, “Whatever it is, can you just please drop it somewhere! Kinda not in the best situation right now,” you clutch the loofah close.
Taehyung laughs, “Calm down, I just came to give you an extra pair of clothes. Yours are kinda worn down no offense, it wouldn’t make sense to re-dress in nasty clothes after cleaning yourself now would it?” He says as he moves around the bathroom.
“Thanks..but um..can you…?” You trail off.
“I’m going, I’m going,” he breathily chuckles, “Jungkook says the food’s ready, see you out there.” He heads out. You wait for him to close the door but when you hear no sound you peek your head out of the corner of the curtain, “My bad,” Taehyung holds up your tattered clothes, “kinda cute that they got little bears all over them.” He motions to your underwear.
Your face heats up in embarrassment, “Stop looking!”
“I will!” Taehyung lets the door slip shut, his laughter fading as he disappears down the hall. You sigh in relief and let your back hit the wall, what the hell was even that? You were definitely going to be leaving ASAP with the way Taehyung seemed to lack boundaries with literally ANYTHING. First he was touchy and now he’s looking at your underwear shamelessly? That was a no-go.
“I swear I locked it..” You mutter while washing your hair.
After your hot shower you slip out and dry yourself with the towel, you were curious to see what clothes he brought you. You notice it’s a large black shirt and a pair of boxers sitting neatly folded on the counter. Better than nothing you guessed while dropping the towel and dressing yourself. The boxers fit like oversized shorts on you which you’re pretty glad for.
Your heart drops when you see that your backpack isn’t there anymore. A lot of things seem to be running through your mind all at once, was this the end? Were you going to die now? All because of a hot shower?
“Oh there you are,” Jungkook comments when you walk into the same room from before, he notices your panicked state and chuckles, “relax, Tae put your things over there by the door. He put your clothes to wash too.” He nods his head in the direction of the laundry room, “You hungry?” He holds up a bowl of hot food.
“Thank you..” You softly whisper while going over to sit at the table, your mouth waters at the sight of hot food, another luxury you couldn’t afford in this world after leaving your uncle’s home to go to Busan.
Jungkook eyes you appreciatively in his clothes as he sets the food down in front of you, “Glad to see they fit.” He comments, “You can start eating by the way, Tae’s gonna shower so it’ll be just us two til he gets back.” He lazily shrugs while sitting across from you.
He set out an array of side dishes like rice, kimchi, wood ear mushrooms and other stuff that looks really tasty. The two of you eat in silence with Jungkook humming occasionally at the taste or something like that. You don’t really want to talk much either so you’re grateful for the quietness between the two of you. The food is really amazing too, it fills your ravenous hunger you’ve had for the past week since running out of granola bars.
“So,” Jungkook leans back in his chair, “Tae says you’re a part of a group huh?” He tilts his head, “Kinda explains the shot gun n shit. Loads of ammo too.” He picks up a piece of meat and shoves it into his mouth.
“Yeah..” You mumble, “I was just scavenging, had to cross through the building n yeah that’s how me and Tae ran into each other—or more like him saving me.”
Jungkook nods, “Okay… so why don’t you tell me the real truth? No bullshitting either sweetheart, we’ve been here for how many years and never have we ever seen or heard of a group past that building or on our side.” He smirks, “C’mon, tell me. I don’t bite.”
You stare at him in awe and realization that you’ve been caught, “Fuck okay,” you sigh heavily, “Originally I was staying with my uncle in the outskirts of Suwon after the whole apocalypse happened, for years now I’ve been believing my parents are still alive and out there, problem is out there is literally all the way down in Busan,” you see him perk up at the mention of Busan, “so I’ve been walking ever since trying to get there to find them, they’re farmers, if they’re out there they’re probably still in the old farmhouse I grew up in.”
“Well I’ll be damned,” he nods, “I’m fuckin’ impressed you made it this far, shit not even me who was stranded Ulsan when this all happened.” He shakes his head, “Guess we all got something that keeps up goin’ huh.” He leans back in his chair with a hum.
You stare down at your food, “Yeah..” You whisper softly.
The silence is broken when Taehyung comes out of the hall, towel in his hair and a pair of low hanging sweats clinging over his hips as he whistles, “Looks good,” he says to Jungkook while taking a seat next to him, it’s only then you fully see that he’s not wearing a shirt at all. You turn your head slightly in embarrassment as Taehyung laughs, “What? Something on my face?”
“No you idiot, obviously someone you fucking just met wouldn’t wanna see you half naked ‘n shit you pervert.” Jungkook elbows his friend.
“I’m not though,” Taehyung snorts, “I’m sure she’s seen worse than this,” he shoots you a wink to which you hunch your shoulders together sheepishly.
Jungkook rolls his eyes, “So did basic etiquette also fly out the window when the apocalypse happened or what?” Taehyung doesn’t reply anything because he’s too busy stuffing his face, Jungkook’s eyes land back on you and he sits up, “You look sleepy, you can take my room if you want I’ll sleep here,” he nods, “and before you panic I’ll take your backpack to you too.” He smirks.
You slump in your seat with a sigh, “Thanks..”
“No need.” Jungkook curtly replies and gets up as he brings your backpack over, “Follow me.” He treads down the hall with your things flung over his broad shoulder.
“G’Night pretty,” Taehyung grins with a wicked glint in his eyes as he looks at you up and down, “very fuckin’ pretty..” He chuckles quietly and goes back to eating.
You shiver, and not in the good way either. You follow Jungkook into another room, he’s already setting your things down and bringing out pillows, “I usually sleep without one but here’s some I had in my closet,” he sets them down, “not that there’s much to steal but please don’t take my shit. I trust you.” He gives you a firm pat, squeezing your waist as he slips by you.
“Thank..you..?” You turn to watch him.
“Yeah, yeah no funny business. Night sweetheart.” He lets the door slip shut quietly.
The first thing you do is lock it, making sure the door is jammed before you take one of his chairs he had and press it right up against the knob. When you feel like no one can enter you finally slip into the comfy bed, groaning in relief as your sore body slumps into the sheets. It’s been so long since you’ve had a proper bed to lay in. You roll around before curling over a pillow and hugging it tight to your chest.
Your tired eyes slip shut and you fall asleep comfortably for the first time in ages.
+
You pry your eyes open when a beam of sunlight hits you across your face. At first you’re confused and disoriented but then everything that happened to you yesterday comes down as you recap quickly. You slowly sit up with a loud yawn, looking around the room in daze. Everything is as you left it, and the chair is still propped up against the door.
“Time is it..” You mutter and look around. You find a clock on the wall and squint your eyes to read the time. “Oh,” it’s noon. You shuffle out of bed despite your limbs protesting as you look around for your things, you had an extra change of clothes in your backpack anyways so getting your old clothes was not a issue.
The weather as of lately has been pretty bipolar, hot or breezy so you never knew what to expect. You figured it was springtime anyways. You dressed in a loose white flower printed camisole, another pair of brown shorts over black tights and managed to slip your boots back on.
“Alright,” you bring out your map and check the streets etc, “took me here..so now we go this way,” you mutter quietly while reading the map. You had made sure to catch the name of the building before entering last night. That way it would be easier when leaving. “Okay.” You smile and fold the map back up.
You step out of the room with your belongings on your back, treading down the hall quietly as you come across Taehyung and Jungkook setting the table, “Oh you’re awake.” Jungkook says as his eyes drop to your hands where you’re clutching the straps of your backpack.
Taehyung pauses and turns to look too, “Oh…” He trails off, visibly upset that you’re already going. “ ‘s pretty dangerous out there.” He comments with a blank look.
“I’ll find a way.” You reply curtly, “I appreciate you guys letting me stay the night but I really have to go now. Thank you.” You bow in appreciation, Jungkook doesn’t say anything and instead Taehyung makes his way over to stand in front of you.
“At least stay for breakfast yeah? C’mon there’s no harm in that.” Taehyung pleads while setting a bowl down on the table, “Plus, why would you even wanna go? Those things are still out there, they’ll tear you apart the first chance they get. Just stay, yeah?” It’s no longer, stay for breakfast, rather Taehyung is now openly begging you to stay.
Your breath hitches when you see his hand come up to touch your shoulder, you jerk away and take a step back, “I’m leaving Taehyung, thank you from the bottom of my heart but I’ll be fine.” You say firmly while stepping past him.
Jungkook calmly stands there with his arms over his chest, he looks down at you and hums, “You’re not leaving sweetheart,” he calmly says, “why don’t you get that backpack off and sit down so we can all eat together.”
When it becomes apparent they have no intention of letting you leave you snap, “Get away from me!” You shove Jungkook as hard as you possibly can, watching him stumble out of shock as you duck past him and slam the front door open.
“y/n get back here!” Taehyung yells out.
You don’t waste another second and run down to the exit, kicking the door open and heading down the street towards the way you were supposed to go. Adrenaline kicks in like never before as you whip your head back occasionally to see if they’re following. You’re pretty far when you notice Jungkook and Taehyung exiting out the building looking both ways before they see you and start running.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper while jumping over fallen things and rocks.
They’re yelling a bunch of shit that you don’t care about, your main focus is to get the hell away from them. You duck into a building, taking note that it’s a mall as you manage to run up the escalator. “She went in here!” Taehyung says not far behind.
You hear their heavy footsteps as they run up the steps too. You see a rack sitting there so you throw it down and keep pushing forward. Jungkook curses loudly while he and Tae push through the mess on the ground. You see a clothing shop with a half-closed metal overhead door as you fall to the ground and slip under it to the other side.
The crawlspace was small enough for you, you’re confident Taehyung and Jungkook were going to have to pry it open (if they even could) to follow you. “Shit,” you hear Taehyung, “she went through here.”
“Move.” Jungkook reaches to yank at the door.
Your eyes widen in horror when you hear the door creak, showing signs that it would in fact be opening up more. You run to the back of the store, barreling in as you look around for a exit only to find that you’re in a simple storage room. There was no other exit, the mall in fact must not even have those backroom exits.
Your eyes tear up as you shakily back up into the wall with no other choice but to bring out your shotgun and aim it at the door. You hear nothing but your fast breathing and pounding heart in your ears. Any moment now… Your finger curled over the trigger as you bounced your knee in anticipation.
A beat passes before the door suddenly slams open, hitting the wall full force as Jungkook comes barreling in. You jump in absolute fear, aiming blindly as you pull the trigger. “Oh shit!” Taehyung yells, he doesn’t bother entering the room at first as he ducks to the side of the doorway after the bullet grazes the wall next to the doorway.
Jungkook yells something you can’t really make out through the ringing in your ears from the deafening noise. He wrestles the shotgun out of your hands, tossing it to the corner far away from you both. “Hey, hey,” he loudly curses, “calm down will you?!” He grunts.
Taehyung slips into the room and comes over to pin you down, “Shh, shh, we’re here now y/n,” he says as he leans down to nose along your shoulder and neck, “ ‘s safe with us.” He whispers in his deep baritone voice.
The fear combined with the stress (and adrenaline) of the situation sends you into a full blown panic attack. Your vision begins getting spotty and you feel like you’re on the verge of passing out. Probably from how malnourished you were given that the past few weeks you’ve been surviving on one granola bar every week.
You yell and twist around, loud sobs pouring from your lips as you thrash endlessly. “N-No! Please! Let me go,” you hiccup through your tears, “stop it,” the fight begins slowly draining out of you. They coo and murmur deceivingly sweet things in your ear, their hands roam all over your body while you lay there limp. “P..lease..” You quietly plead one last time before the world around you begins to fade.
“I’ve got you baby, don’t you worry. Never gonna let you outta my sight,” Taehyung whispers, “....s.afe..with us.” You manage to hear right before losing consciousness.
+
5 months later..
Everyday waking up felt more like a chore and the only time you ever found yourself looking forward to something was going to sleep. Sleeping was like some sort of escape from reality where you would find yourself dreaming of the day you reunite with your parents. Another dream you frequently had was you being back at your uncle’s farm living day by day in utter peace surrounded by the people you loved.
It was a pretty memory that would be ruined the moment you woke up to find either Taehyung or Jungkook over you.
They were like animals, they had no self control and acted like a bunch of hormonal teens around you. Taehyung especially, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off nor his pants on. You lost track of the days inbetween sleeping or them fucking you like no tommorrow. Waking up sore between your legs or with cum dripping from your gaping pussy was a familiar feeling.
Taehyung was the more shameless one between the two. He’d fuck you almost every chance he got with his hands never straying from your body for more than two minutes whenever he was around you. He kept you chained in his room by the ankle on his bed wearing nothing but his shirt and those bear printed panties you came to hate. They were ruined the minute he’d lay with you, hand stuffed deep inside and his long slender fingers buried knuckle deep in your soaked pussy.
You hated that your body responded very well to his touches, hell you’d even slick up to the sound of him entering the room with the amount of times he fucked you or had his hands on you. Taehyung’s mouth was even filthier with the amount of shit he said in that husky tone whenever he had you pinned under him—knees pressed to your shoulders as he folded you in half and punched his cock deep inside your bruised cunt.
“Just needed a cock in you pretty, didn’t you,” he’d whisper while grinding his hips in slow circles with his cock rubbing up against every crevice of your pussy, his balls pressed tight against your ass as low squelching noises filled the quiet bedroom.
Jungkook was used to the sounds of the headboard banging or bed creaking against the wooden floor. He’d lay awake in his own room with a hand wrapped tight against his cock while he listened to you cry and mewl in pleasure. Other times he’d walk into the room just to see Taehyung balls deep in you with your legs spread wide and a string of white creaminess sticking to Taehyung’s pelvis and cock whenever he pulled out of your messy pussy.
At the moment you were curled into your side, balling up under the warm sheets as you tried to find more sleep. After a few more minutes of tossing and turning you begrudgingly accepted that you weren’t going to be getting any more sleep. Your puffy eyes cracked open as you stared over at the window. The curtains were closed but from the tiny corner you could see that it was night time already.
Taehyung and Jungkook had yet to come back, they said something about getting some things they needed from the mall. A tiny part of you wished they wouldn’t come back though. Maybe they’d be ambushed by those things and eaten alive (your biggest fantasy was them getting their cocks ripped off for what they’ve done to you). You could only dream, you sigh wistfully.
You sit up in bed and look around the dark room, there’s nothing much to do so you end up doodling in your sketchbook for a bit before laying back down just dreading the arrival of your captors. They get back around midnight, a little over an hour after you had woken up. Your eyes are slipped shut as you try to fall back asleep, and right when your body and mind both shut down the door is opened.
Taehyung comes in silently, humming under his breath as he sets some bags down on the ground. You don’t pay much attention, just curling into yourself with closed eyes while he goes about with whatever the hell he’s doing. The sound of Taehyung unbuckling his belt is enough to have your pussy throbbing, already slicking up for what’s about to come. He shuffles around and slips his shirt off, and then his pants.
The bed dips low and creaks under his weight when he climbs in next to you. You squeeze your eyes tight and try to breathe normally. Taehyung’s hand falls on your thigh and rubs over the soft skin slowly, each time going higher and higher until he’s playing with the waistband of your underwear. Your skin prickles all over with goosebumps as he quietly laughs under his breath.
“Look so pretty like this,” he mumbles while leaning in to hide his face in your neck, “bet your little pussy’s all wet for me too..” He dips his fingers in and slides them through your chubby folds, “Fuckin’ soaked—got you waiting for this cock huh?” He circles his fingers over your wet clit, “C’mon pretty, open up for me. Know you’re awake,” he rasps out and rubs faster.
You breathily sigh and fall into the bed pliantly while he plays with your clit between his long slender fingers. Taehyung slips his fingers between your dewy sticky folds, going right over your greedy hole. It clenches around nothing and you wait with a bated breath for him to slip them inside.
“Hear that baby?” Taehyung whispers as his lips slide over your neck and suck on a particular spot, “Messy little thing you are,” he comments while pressing his crotch over your ass and letting you feel the hard print of his swelling cock from inside his boxers, “don’t worry though—not gonna be empty for long, gonna fill you up and give it to you real good pretty.” He rasps out.
He rolls his hips in the tiniest of circles, letting out deep sighs and grunts while he plays with your pussy with one hand and the other grips your ass cheek. He squeezes the doughy cheek and pulls it apart to expose your puckered hole, “Gonna fuck you here too one day,” he rolls his hips more insistently, “gonna make all your pretty holes mine.”
You bite back a mewl when his thumb flicks over your clit in rapid sweeping motions, it has you grinding into his hand and simultaneously pushing back on his hard cock. You feel it slot between your cheeks—hot and throbbing—as it slides over the rim of your asshole. You weakly clench down on nothing, pussy pathetically spewing more slick and dribbling between your silky folds.
“One day,” he mutters, “not now.” Taehyung reaches up to steady you by the hip. You hear shuffling in the back as Taehyung kicks his boxers off, letting the dampened material fall to the ground. His hands are on you in a heartbeat, he racks the oversized shirt you’re wearing up around your waist and tugs at your panties with two fingers. “Open a little wider for me pretty—there you go, that’s it.” He purrs.
Taehyung wraps a hand around the back of your knee and holds it up as he lifts your leg into the air. You bite your lip and turn your face into the pillow to hide in, “Keep it up here for me,” he murmurs while letting go.
You can hear him fist his cock from behind you as he takes his cock and slaps it over your folds repeatedly. “Fuck,” he sighs almost dreamily while positioning the mushroomy tip at your clenched hole, “relax n let me in baby, good girl.” He murmurs while kicking his hips forward and pushing his cock into you.
Your lips part in a small ‘o’, no noise escaping as he fills you inch for inch with his heavy fat cock. This spooning position does nothing but make you aware just how big his cock is, you feel fucking stuffed and full of him with the rim of your pussy stretching a bit painfully to accommodate him. Taehyung releases a low growl and shoves himself into you impatiently. His hips smack against your ass with a loud squelch.
“Shit…” He sighs out like he’s relieved to be buried deep inside you, he shifts around and presses himself closer to you. You feel him drape himself over your back with his face buried in the junction of your neck and shoulder. He breathes your scent in and moans quietly while circling his hips slowly, cock shifting from side to side inside of you.
“God you feel so good,” he whispers as his hand grips your hip tight, “don’t think I’ll ever get used to fuckin’ this pussy.” He moans once more and presses in.
You double over and fist the pillow you’re laying on tightly, you can feel his hot thick balls press snug against your ass with each grind and thrust. Taehyung’s busy sucking marks into the back of your neck, he rolls his hips smoothly and occasionally bottoms out and presses into you deeply. His cock reemerges drenched in copious amounts of slick, the noise it makes is filthy as he pushes in deep.
“Shit, like that.” He moves faster, humping into you in quick little rolls as your cheeks smack against his pelvis repeatedly.
Your mouth opens and you quietly pant into the hot pillow, ears burning when you hear the squelching and the sound of his balls connecting to your ass from where they swing. Taehyung moans into your ear and slips his hand down your front to spread your pussy apart in a ‘V’ shape, “C’mon baby, play with yourself.” He huffs.
Most likely if you don’t do it he will so you slip your hand down and circle your clit with your fingers. You rub in circular motions, matching the speed of his thrusts. You can’t help the strangled moan that you let out because he pairs this with perfectly aimed thrusts, cockhead brushing over your g-spot repeatedly. The noises you held in begin spilling from your lips, you whimper and whine quietly while laying three fingers over your clit and rubbing side to side quickly.
“You gonna cum baby?” Taehyung gasps, “Can feel you getting tighter,” he grunts while smacking his hips into yours harder.
You throw your head back on his shoulder and gasp loudly when his cock bumps into your cervix. It hurts but the pain blends easily with the pleasure. Taehyung digs his fingernails into your side and tightly holds on to you while fucking into your pussy harshly. The slapping noises fill the entire room, the sheets shift and the bed rocks into the wall from the force of his thrusts.
“W-Wait,” you gasp breathlessly while your pussy squeezes tight, “fuck—Tae-hyung..!” A garbled cry escapes your lips as your pussy floods wetly, you cum with a high pitched cry while burying your face into his pillow—body shaking like a newborn lamb.
Taehyung hisses and quickly rolls his hips, driving his swollen cock into you over and over again like it’s the last time. He lands a tiny slap over your pussy causing you to cry out in oversensitivity. “Oh shit,” he gasps and slams into you three times before coming to a stop and riding the rest of his orgasm out with tiny grinds. He milks his cock out with a long sigh, pressing in to make sure none of it slips out.
You’re left laying there panting harshly while he warms his cock with your cunt. Only when his cock softens does he let it slip out with a nasty squelch. You can feel a sticky trail of slick and cum bubble between your folds, a small string still connected to his flaccid cock. “So messy,” he mutters while rolling out of bed to bring back a towel.
You stare at the wall with disoriented eyes and a wet ass/pussy.
The very next morning over breakfast Taehyung tells you about a surprise he has for you. You’re suspicious as hell but go along with it and wait patiently for him to give you his “gift”. Nothing good ever comes from him so you’re pretty sure this gift is something more for them than it is for you. When he pulls it out you mentally sigh, proven right.
“Aren’t these pretty?” Taehyung grins while showing off the pretty dresses, “I found ‘em in that store from last time and thought they’d look good on you.” He licks his lips, “Try ‘em on.” He’s not asking, he’s telling you.
You begrudgingly change into one, noting how short it is given that it ends right under your ass. You stand there and let out a deep sigh, “This is the worst..” You mutter while fixing the straps.
“You comin’ out yet pretty?” Taehyung calls out.
“Fucking hell, can’t you wait.” You angrily tug the dress down and unlock the door, “I’m going.” You roll your eyes and walk out of the hallway and to them.
Their eyes naturally shift lower, staring shamelessly as they lick their lips hungrily. “Fits like a glove.” Jungkook nods, “Do a little spin for me sweetheart,” he sits back and man spreads on the couch, “slowly.” His eyes drop down to your exposed thighs.
You slowly turn in a circle stopping when they ask you to. Taehyung whistles lowly while Jungkook hums in appreciation, “Maybe these pretty little dresses are the only thing you should wear around the house, makes you look like a pretty little housewife.” He chuckles.
“She does, doesn't she? If it were up to me she’d be my little housewife walking around with nothin’ underneath leaking with cum and a pussy stuffed full.” Taehyung’s eyes stay glued to your tits where they push against the dress, smushed together from how tight that area was.
“Pretty little thing was made for it.” Jungkook nods with a low hum. You’ve never felt less human.
That night, Jungkook brings you to his room and has you slip on another one of the dresses Taehyung got you. Except this one literally leaves your entire ass hanging out no matter how much you tug on it. It’s a silky dress embroidered with lace and frills, you know you’re not going to stand a chance. He’s already looking at you like he wants to eat you, he lays there with an arm behind his head on the bed, just ogling you in appreciation as you change.
It’s over the moment you turn around. Jungkook quite literally throws you on the bed and pins you down under his hard, heavy body. He wastes no time in pushing the dress up and pinning you with your knees touching your shoulders. His pace is frantic and hard, thighs smacking and balls smacking into you as he fucks like a madman.
The bed violently hits the wall and creaks loudly under the weight of you two. He really has you crying and screaming in pleasure from how rough he was with you. His own grunts and moans rising in volume to match yours. He fucks orgasm after orgasm out of you, each time hurting a little more from how sensitive you were. Your cunt’s rubbed raw, glistening with precum mixed with your slick as a ring of white forms around the base of Jungkook’s cock. Some of his creamy cum drips down between your ass cheeks and on to the rim of your puckered hole. It splatters a little when his balls collide with your ass, staining both him and the bed sheets.
The room’s hot, it stinks with sex as Jungkook fucks you over and over again on the bed. You mewl shakily and kick your dangling feet in the air when he rolls you two over the edge of the bed, your head hangs as he buries himself deep in your pussy and grinds in quick motions. Jungkook has either arm beside your head, caging you in as he watches your expressions with hooded eyes.
“Fuck.” Jungkook bites his lip and moves faster, “Look so goddamn perfect, gonna have this little cunt bred by the end of the night. You’d like that wouldn’t you baby—to be stuffed with my cum dripping?” He breathlessly asks, brow pinched in concentration as he rolls his hips.
When you don’t answer he lands a smack across your ass, tightly squeezing it in his hand afterwards. You mewl quietly and nod, “Answer me baby, wanna hear it from your sweet little lips.” He growls and lands another smack.
You hiccup and sob softly, “Y-Yes..! W-Wanna you to fill me up.” Your toes curl as you shudder when his cock hits your g-spot. All this movement and your head hanging quickly has you recoiling in dizziness as he jostles you.
Jungkook moves his hands and falls into you with your chest pressed to his. He wraps his hands around both of your ass cheeks and grips them tightly while pumping his cock in and out of you. Your thighs tremble in anticipation, cunt greedily swallowing him as low wet smacking noises begin to grow louder.
“Gonna cum sweetheart,” he rasps out with sweat dripping from his brow, “shit—so fuckin’ tight.” He shudders while leaning into you.
Your arms shakily wrap around his shoulders as you hug him tightly, sobbing when his pelvis glides over your clit and traps the sensitive bud between you and him. He fucks in quick thrusts, cock punching in and out of your creamy pussy. You lay there whining quietly as he uses you to get off. His moans turn breathier and quiet until he stops and goes silent.
His cock throbs and twitches, hot cum painting your pussy white as he empties himself in you. Jungkook lets out a ragged groan as he finally stops coming, he tiredly lays himself over you and pants, swallowing quietly as he tries to catch his breath. You didn’t cum again but you’re fine, it would have hurt anyway.
“Shit.” He mumbles as he rolls off of you lays side by side, staring up at the ceiling with his wet cock hanging out all bare without a single care in the world. You shakily roll to your side and curl up.
You knew these damn dresses were gonna be trouble..
+
Something’s off…very off.
For almost a week now you’ve been getting sick and throwing up meal after meal, maybe they were poisoning and finally putting you out of your misery. You wished.. You were sleeping way more than usual and everything just hurt more, even sex—not that it didn’t hurt before but suddenly your clit was too rubbed raw to touch and penetration was starting to hurt and ache? Something was very wrong and they knew it too.
“You think it’s the food?” Taehyung asks while sitting at the table with you and Jungkook, they often talk like you aren’t even there at times. “Or like maybe it’s the flu or something, been finding the window left open at night, could be that she got some air.”
Jungkook eyes you in worry, “I don’t think so Tae, she barely even has anything in her stomach to begin with and she keeps puking her guts out.” He sighs deeply, “y/n baby, how long has this been going on for hm? Weeks?”
You shrug and stare down at the hot food on your plate, “I dunno, not really hungry though.. Just wanna sleep.”
Taehyung frowns, “You need to eat something, wait—maybe she’s on her period or something and it’s probably hitting her really hard. Are you?” He turns to look at you as he waits patiently for your answer.
You open your mouth to say no but then sit there in shock, period.. When was the last time you even had one? Your heart begins pounding as you try to think back to your last cycle, sure you didn’t think about it too often but still it was something you kept track of so things didn’t get super messy in the middle of your travels. They call your name three times before you finally look up at them.
“I haven’t gotten a period.” You whispered, “Last I remember was I think a month ago, wait no I think two..” You begin shaking in your seat, this means one thing for sure.. You look up at them, they’re both sporting surprised looks but Taehyung’s face quickly morphs into one of excitement and happiness.
“So that means..” Taehyung grins, “ ‘s my baby,” he proudly claims, “must’ve knocked her up real good.” He chuckles quietly, dodging Jungkook’s hit, “What?? She’s the one who sleeps in my bed more than you! You’re just jealous it’s not your baby.” He smirks.
Jungkook sighs, “Tae, maybe instead of being so happy about knocking her up worry about her fuckin health.” He glares before turning to you with a soft look, “C’mere sweetheart, let’s get you something for your stomach yeah?” He stands and goes over to guide you into the kitchen, “Tae, run out and bring some pregnancy tests!”
“On it!”
You’re numb the entire time Jungkook talks to you about different meal options, his hand never leaves your waist and he occasionally strokes his thumb over your tummy. How could they be so happy knowing the circumstances behind the baby—or rather this parasite inside of you. Just thinking about the thing made you sicker, and quite frankly more angrier.
“Baby?” Jungkook looks at you in confusion, “I asked if you wanted to have some broth with crackers, it’ll be light on your stomach and will do good for the baby.” Baby… You looked down at your stomach and stared at it, so that’s where the little shit was. “Baby?” He cups your face in his hands.
“Anything is fine,” you mutter, “doesn’t matter now anyways, ‘m basically an incubator.” You glare.
Jungkook ignores your little aggressive comment, “Don’t be like that, ‘s not good for you or the baby. Gotta make sure you’re well fed mama,” he mumbles as he brings you closer, “gotta be a good mama for the baby alright?” He cups your tummy.
You feel frustration bubble up, “I don’t want this fucking parasite in me,” you seethe, “I didn’t ask to be pregnant, I didn’t ask for any of this! I would have been perfectly fine in Busan with my parents if you or Taehyung hadn’t bothered me!” You yell angrily, “Baby this, baby that—what about me?! I’m a human being! This is my life we’re talking about!” You shove his hands off of you.
Jungkook’s jaw clenches, “You’re just cranky and moody, understandable sweetheart,” he reaches over to grip you by the throat, “but let’s not get too over your head yeah? Is this all because of Busan? Throwin’ a fit like a goddamn child?” He glares.
“Yes! Exactly that Jungkook, I was doing so fucking fine before YOU or Taehyung.” Your eyes well with tears, “A-And now-now, I can’t even see my parents anymore because I’m stuck here everyday inside of a small ass apartment chained like a goddamn circus animal waiting to be used!” You sob hysterically, everything you’ve held in at this point just erupting.
You hate that he gives you a sympathetic look, he brings you into his arms and you’re too weak to fight against him, “Oh baby,” he rocks you side to side, “when will you understand that your place is with us, we keep you SAFE. We feed you don’t we? We protect you? What more are you asking for?” He says softly like he’s talking to a child or something.
“I-I want to see my mom and dad,” you hiccup, “wanna g-go to Busan ‘n make sure they’re alive ‘n healthy. Please!” You paw at his arms and cling to him like a child, “Please ‘s the only thing I’ll ever ask for!”
Jungkook stares down at you while you cry and beg, he gently rubs his hand over your back and hums, “I’ll talk to Tae about it,” he pulls back to look down at you, “but you have to take care of yourself for the baby’s sake.” He calmly says, “No ifs or buts, if you don’t we’re not going anywhere.”
You bite back the protest sitting on the tip of your tongue, “...Okay..” You mutter.
“Good girl,” Jungkook grins and ruffles your hair, “now go sit down, I’ll call you when the soup is ready.” He ushers you out.
Taehyung and Jungkook spend the entire night talking about it, you can hear them from the bedroom where you sit in pure excitement and hope. Jungkook argues that maybe it’s time to find a new settlement out there, he says something along the lines that raising the baby in the countryside is far better as the infected are less likely to populate rural areas. Taehyung argues that they’re fine altogether given the endless supplies nearby and the running water and electricity they have.
“Jungkook you’re not understanding, I’m gonna be a dad now and I can’t be having y/n walk for almost two months straight in this state. She won’t make it,” Taehyung sighs, “she’s fine here, safe and sound where she has water and heat to keep her warm at night.”
Jungkook releases a heavier sigh, “Tae, there’s a high risk of raiders and you know it. What if we’re out getting supplies one day and someone finds her and the baby? Then what? Or how about when the baby gets here you wanna keep them inside these four small ass walls for the rest of their lives? Is that what you think is best for the baby?”
You sit with a bated breath, waiting for Taehyung’s reply. You’re fucked if he says no, because Jungkook will NOT go anywhere unless Taehyung comes with. You feel your heart twist bitterly as you stare down at your hands, if Taehyung says no you really think you’ll resort to murder just to escape..
“Fine. We’ll go but if it’s far worse we’re heading straight back got it?” Taehyung grunts, “Can’t believe I’m agreeing to this shit.” He mutters while heading out to the patio.
You smile widely and lay back with your head turned to the window, admiring the bright moon, “Soon..” You quietly whisper to yourself.
Please wait for me..
+
The three of you set out one crisp Autumn morning, you almost forgot what the outside looked like given that you were only given the luxury of the windows in the apartment. Jungkook and Taehyung keep you close with a hand around your waist or wrapped around your own in a tight hold.
“Gotta cross that bridge to catch the highway that leads us into the countryside roads to Busan,” Jungkook says while reading the map, “from there I think we should be good and just keep walking straight.” He sighs as he folds the map back up.
Taehyung hums in acknowledgment as he reaches over to slip his arm around your waist and tug you close, “You good baby?” He asks softly, “Don’t want you overworking yourself.” He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.
You nod while looking around the area, “I’m fine, wanna go now.” You tug at his hand and follow after Jungkook. They try to make conversation with you but you’re fully locked in on one thing: Busan.
It takes up almost a day to make it to the bridge and get on the highway, luckily those things aren’t out in the open so the walk is much easier and stress free. You pass the time by admiring the plant life around you and remembering what once was when you come across clothing shops and closed restaurants.
The wind blows the flowy dress you’re wearing, you would have preferred something like jeans or whatever but they swapped out almost all of your clothes for dresses. You liked them and they were cute and all but this was something you would have liked to wear for yourself back at home and not for them.
“Look,” Taehyung stops in his tracks to bring you over to the bridge railing, “kinda looks nice yeah?” He smiles as the wind blows through his hair.
The three of you stand together watching the water below calmly moving in one direction, birds fly high over your heads and into the pink-ish sunset. You smile to yourself and nod, “I like it. Super nice.”
Jungkook leans his head over your shoulder and hums, “Pretty like you.” He comments to which you ignore. The three of you stay a little longer before Jungkook pats you gently on the back, “Alright, time to go. Gotta find somewhere before sundown.” He warns and takes your hand in his, leading you away from the peaceful sight.
You insist to them you’re more than fine walking through the dark with them but Taehyung’s absolutely not having it. He gives you one glare and you’re left to sulk in the dark quietly, begrudgingly following the two into a spot for the night somewhere off the road in the overgrown grass. Jungkook makes sure the area is clear before he lays out your sleeping bags on the ground.
“Calm down, Busan ain’t going nowhere sweetheart,” Jungkook comments when he sees how uneasy you are, “here lay down.” He pulls you in and tucks you into the warm sleeping bag, “All this walking won’t be any good on you,” he leaves the ‘or the baby’ out given your feelings about the pregnancy, “gotta have you well rested.” He mumbles and leans down to press a gentle kiss over your lips.
You stare at him with an incredulous look, you rather keep walking day and night if meant getting away from them two and reaching your parents quicker. Any more of this and you’re going to lose it, you grumble quietly and snuggle into the sleeping bag turned away from them. “Night.” You curtly reply.
“G’night pretty.”
.
Sleep comes fairly easy but you’re still a bit uncomfortable from laying on the cold hard ground. You spent at least a good hour tossing and turning before sleep took over and sent you into a state of peace. Though by now you knew that peace was never an option, not with these two on your ass half the time.
Your eyes flutter open in confusion, you take in your surroundings for a few seconds before realizing you’re flat on your back. You note the familiar weight sitting on top of you and the slick noises down below. “Hn?” You try to make out who it is but it’s difficult with their face buried in your neck.
“Awake pretty?” Taehyung whispers into your ear, “Was wondering when you were gonna wake up.�� He runs his tongue over the shell of your ear with a low moan, “Sorry baby, couldn’t resist seeing you so pretty in the dresses we got you.” He slurs out, you notice he has a hand stuffed between the two of you with his heavy cock in his hand, “Had to have you,” he breathes out while laying his pelvis flat against yours, “feel that? You did that.”
His cock’s all slicked up and hot as it presses against your inner thigh. There’s no use in fighting back as you let your thighs fall open to accommodate him. Taehyung makes a pleased noise as he grinds his cock over your clothed pussy. It bumps and nudges against you which in turn makes your clit throb with excitement. You huff quietly and angle your hips low to see if his cock will bump into your clit again.
Taehyung’s cock slips and slides over your cunt, you begin to grow annoyed and reach down to shove your panties down. He eagerly helps you slide them off with the material getting stuck around your ankle. When he goes to spread you open with his fingers, you let out a pained cry and shove at his hand weakly. Your clit and hole were more sore than you thought.
“What is it baby?” He asks with worry etched onto his face.
You shake your head, “Hurts,” you reply softly and move his hand away, “don’t like it, it hurts.”
Taehyung moves his hand away from your cunt, “Won’t touch you there then baby,” he murmurs while kissing your lips as an apology.
You huff quietly and wiggle around with a pissy glare, “And now my back hurts too.” You shove at his chest and grumble, “Off, off.” Taehyung doesn’t budge, instead he lets you roll over on to your side to alleviate the pressure. Your eyes snap over to him when you feel his cock slip between your thighs.
“Shh..gonna use your pretty little thighs sweetheart.” Taehyung whispers as he rolls his hips slowly. You let your head drop back to the pillow with an annoyed huff, his cock occasionally brushes over your clit from where it sits snug against your pussy. Doesn’t hurt but it bothers you.
He quietly moans and pants under his breath while using your thighs to get off. His leaky cock leaves trails of pearly white cum smeared over your thighs and cunt. Some of it even gets your cheeks wet, making the heat you’re feeling more unbearable. “Can’t wait till you’re bigger pretty,” he whispers, “gonna look so good full of our baby.”
His hips snap upwards when he says that, “ ‘s like you were made to be bred,” he growls and reaches down to slip a hand into your dress, fondling and squeezing your tit in his hand, “got such pretty tits, look at ‘em,” he grunts while slapping one, “can’t wait till they’re leaking with milk.”
You shudder in disgust at the thought, you already felt like you weren’t in your own body, him talking about its upcoming changes has you gagging. You choose to ignore anything related to the pregnancy, closing your eyes and trying to block out his words.
“Oh fuck,” he shudders, “gonna always keep you full and swollen—gonna breed you over and over again pretty.” Taehyung rolls his hips faster and faster until he stops with a shaky sigh, cum shooting out in white ropes over you and the sleeping bag. He stays still for a few seconds before pulling his spent cock from between your thighs.
Great, he ruined your sleeping bag.
.
The air around you is hot despite the season being autumn. You trudge along behind Jungkook while toying with the sleeves of your hoodie which has long been discarded and tied around your waist. Jungkook says it’s only a matter of days before you’re all in Busan. You’re just relieved the gruesome trip is finally coming to an end and you probably won’t have to see them ever again.
Dealing with both Taehyung and Jungkook was slowly starting to work a nerve inside of you. As your pregnancy progressed so did the symptoms that came with it. Your back hurt like a bitch, your tits were sensitive, and your mood swings were very random. Everyday was a challenge with these two they just wouldn’t leave you alone and in peace. Not to mention the thing inside of you, it was the main source of all your headaches and morning sickness.
“There’s a gas station up ahead,” Taehyung points, “let’s head there to take a break, yeah? My fuckin’ feet are killing me.” He groans while adjusting his hold on the rifle in his hands. “And don’t start with me y/n, we all need a fucking break,” he shoots you a warning glance.
You kick a nearby rock and glare back, “I wasn’t going to say anything.” It comes out more snappier than usual, something about today just had every nerve in your body sending you into overdrive.
Taehyung shoots you a look, “You don’t have to, I can already feel you complaining about why we have to stop.” He mutters, “All you’ve done since we left Daegu. Not all of us wanna walk till the fucking sun starts to set.”
You whip around to give him a piece of your mind when Jungkook tugs you over to his side, “Tae,” Jungkook gives him a silent look before he turns his attention to you, “I just wanna rest in peace, so please let’s just keep our thoughts to ourselves and keep it moving. Fighting isn’t gonna get us there faster either.”
“Well maybe picking fights with a pregnant person isn’t so bright either.” You spit out angrily while walking faster.
Taehyung scoffs, “Oh so now you’re pulling the pregnant card? After all this time acting like the baby doesn’t even exist to you, I see you.”
You whip around and stop walking, “Because it doesn’t! This fucking parasite inside of me doesn’t exist to me and it never will. I never wanted it in the first place and now I’m stuck with it in MY body, so maybe that explains why I fuckin’ hate it and don’t talk about it!” You hiss.
The silence is deafening. Jungkook doesn’t seem so shocked you lashed out but Taehyung absolutely looks livid with the way you talked about the baby. You don’t care, if anything you’re smug because at least he knows you hate the thing. “If it were up to me,” you speak lowly, “I would have gotten rid of it the moment I found out.”
And with that you stomp off towards the gas station. “y/n! y/n get back here!” Taehyung yells but Jungkook says something along the lines of ‘let her be’. You huff angrily and throw the door open to the station, it’s dark and dusty as hell in there but you’re too angry to really care. “Who the fuck does he think he is?” You mutter while looking around for something edible, preferably chocolate.
As you’re looking up and down the aisles you hear a quiet thud. You briefly look up with a pinched look, “Probably one of those idiots.” You mutter quietly while going back to looking for candy. The noise gets louder and once again interrupts your search, “What the fuck.” You sigh in annoyance and look over at the backroom.
The door suddenly slams open and a mangled body comes barreling out, screeching loudly while flailing around and knocking things over. Your eyes widen and you drop the candy bar you had in your hands, “Oh shit.” You make a run for the door, head whipping back to see the zombie launch itself from the other side to you, its hands outstretched and swinging wildly.
“Jungkook! Taehyung!” You fall through the door and crawl away desperately as the thing wraps its hand around your ankle to yank you back, “Help me!” You sob and desperately kick at the thing.
Taehyung aims the rifle and shoots without hesitation, it takes at least two shots to keep the thing down. “Fuck are you okay?” Taehyung runs over to pull you up into his arms, “Did it bite you? Are you hurt?” He paws all over and inspects your body for any bites or wounds.
“I-I’m okay.” You quietly whisper and look back at the store, “I-I don’t know if t-there’s more in there.” A tiny sob bubbles up as you hide your face in his chest and grip his shirt tightly.
Taehyung looks over at Jungkook and silently nods, “Hey you’re okay, look at me,” he cups your face, “you’re fine, ‘s nothing we already got rid of it.” He whispers while brushing your hair out of your face. You weakly nod and stay close by while Jungkook checks for any more infected inside of the station.
Taehyung’s practically glued to you after that, and not that you want him close by but in a way he helps calm you down. Jungkook had quickly gathered food and water before the three of you set back out. The walk was silent save for the sounds of birds chirping and crickets hiding in the tall grass. Everything just feels so unreal right now as you still process your near death experience.
“I think we have to go that way,” Jungkook quietly says, “leads to the countryside—you said your parents lived away from the city right?” He says and stops in his tracks to look at you.
“Yeah.” You look at the map in his hands. “If I’m right we only have a good hour to go, farm’s not that far from here. I recognized the road cause my dad used to take me through here whenever we were going into the city.” You say while reading one of the familiar road signs.
Jungkook nods, “Lead the way then.”
The three of you walk through the dirt, passing by big farms and bus stations that definitely make you reminisce. You haven’t been here in so long it feels weird, you would have loved to come when things didn’t hit the fan and everything went into chaos. You can’t hide the anticipation on your face, it was practically eating at you.
Taehyung notices this because he reaches for your hand and holds it tight, “Any closer?”
“Yeah.” Your heart pounds in your chest, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You’re not so sure you’re prepared for what’s about to come. If your parents aren’t there—no, they are, you’re so sure of it. Something tells you they’re fine. You’re so excited you nearly barf.
You come to a stop when the three of you reach the wooden gate entrance, Jungkook is quick to open the latch and push the gate open. “y/n,” Jungkook calls out in surprise because you immediately start heading to the house. You ignore them and their calls, stumbling over your feet as you make your way to your home. Your eyes get watery from the swirl of emotions you’re feeling.
‘I did it.’ You run on to the porch and push the door open, “Mom! Dad! It’s me!” You call out loudly while heading into the living room, “Mom?” You look around frantically. Everything in the house looks untouched, the windows are open as the white curtains flutter with the wind. You feel your heart drop a few times here and there but you’re more excited than anything.
“Mom! Dad!” You head into another room and look around frantically. Nothing is out of place and the house looks well taken care of, so where were your parents? You take a seat on a chair, ignoring the sounds of Jungkook and Taehyung entering the house. Where were they..? You begin to tear up.
You catch a small white envelope sitting in the corner of the table. You reach over and your eyes widen when you see that it was addressed to you. With frantic hands you tear it open and begin reading, eager to find out where your parents could be. As you’re reading Taehyung comes into the room and leans over your shoulder with a curious look. You don’t even reprimand him for reading something that doesn’t concern him.
“..I knew you would come looking for us, it’s in your nature to be stubborn as hell like your mama,” Taehyung reads out loud as Jungkook pauses whatever the hell he was looking at, “we didn’t think you would be content with staying put, and if for whatever reason you find yourself here we’re gone. We’re safe if you must know, we’ve left to a settlement with others where we hopefully can rebuild the life we once had. When you’re ready come to us, you’ve made it this far kiddo I don’t think you’ll have trouble getting to us. For now rest, I assume you’re tired, we left the animals in the barn with food that is most likely gone by now, there’s preserved foods in the bunker below that we’ve been harvesting. Hope to see you soon,” Taehyung finishes.
Your hands shake as you read the date below—you were a week late.
“I guess that’s that.” Jungkook sighs.
“Farm doesn’t look so bad, I think we can run it, don't you think Kook?” Taehyung grins, “We can raise the baby out here without a worry, can even take some horses down to the nearby town when we need to.” He leans down to kiss your neck, “What do you say pretty?..”
+
Everything hurts—your spine, your back, your feet—you can’t stand it. The baby is bigger and it weighs down on your hips horribly. Some days you pretend it isn’t there but other days are harder given the sheer size of your belly and that thing kicking you.
With an annoyed huff you rip the blankets off of your body and get up with a low pained moan. You support your back with one hand while carefully walking across the wooden floor towards the front door. The cold metal bites into your ankle unforgivingly but you’re used to it already. You thought things would be different here but you guess you were wrong.
“Fuck,” you hiss when the baby kicks you in the rib, “just you fuckin’ wait you little shit,” you mutter while standing on the front porch watching Taehyung and Jungkook tend to the farm around.
Jungkook wipes the sweat off his brow and turns to smile at you, “Something wrong sweetheart?” He calls out.
Taehyung shoots you a grin, “Baby already bothering you pretty?” You want to reply ‘been bothering me’ so bad but you hold your tongue. Taehyung’s eyes drop down to the dress you’re wearing as he whistles lowly, “Well don’t you look pretty?” He smirks as he runs his tongue over his lip.
You find yourself staring at them—one day, you’ll find a way to leave even if you have to fight tooth and nail. You suppose the parasite inside of you can come if it’s not already out yet, or hell maybe you’ll leave it with them who knows.
But one thing is for sure: you were leaving one way or another.
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TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful l @winkii @lifeless-firefly @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore
[halloween m.list]
2K notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 2 months
Note
grumpy beefy mando falling for soft!reader in her “grandma era” - all she wants to do is crochet, bake and frolic around the galaxy with mando and grogu 🫶🏽
"He doesn't like hats."
You glance up at Din from where you're testing a length of crocheted stitches beneath Grogu's chin, ensuring that the hat inspired by the local flora of the forest planet you've found shelter on won't fall off if he gets too rigorous in his play.
Grogu coos beneath the flower hat, but whether it's in agreement or protest you can't tell.
"He likes this one," You decide, when the little green terror before you doesn't fight as you maneuver his ears through their designated slots, "And he doesn't have to wear it if he doesn't want to."
Your fingers slip the little white button through the slot you've left in the band, and the hat is secured around Grogu's chin; the cutest little flower you ever did see.
"Oh, honey," You gush, scooping the child up and tucking him into your arms, "You wanna see your hat? C'mere, let's look."
You crouch in front of the tree stump that Din has settled on, holding Grogu up to the man's beskar chest plate. It's freshly polished, but not completely reflective, so at the right angle, Grogu catches a blurry, slightly distorted version of himself in a very pink hat.
His legs are still too small to kick in excitement, but his arms pick up the slack, flapping about while copious amounts of baby babble streams from his mouth. Evidently he's pleased with your handiwork.
Din stays silent while he offers his armor up for Grogu's viewing pleasure, but the child's hands soon find the soft strap beneath his chin and tug.
"I told you he didn't like hats..." Din murmurs, not to be cruel, but to fill empty space in the air when your shoulders deflate slightly.
"I thought he'd like it if it was softer," You hum sadly, helping Grogu take the button out of its clasp so that he can tug the hat off of his head, "I just figured he didn't like the helmet you gave him because it was uncomfortable."
As soon as you've freed Grogu from the confines of his flowery prison his hands slap against the shiny metal of Din's armor. He takes the child out of your hands but Grogu keeps his hat tightly clutched in his fist, and, with valiant effort, pushes the hat into Din's helmet, insistently cooing something that sounds suspiciously like buir.
Your giddiness returns, and you circle Din like a hawk, "Oh, you want your buir to wear it? Let's see," Amidst Din's protests you balance the too-small cap on his helmet, and he stills if only to save the hat from slipping and dying a muddy death on the ground below.
"It doesn't fit me." He grumbles, body stiff as he keeps it balanced on his head. Grogu seems pleased with his buir's new headpiece, squealing and showing off his newly-emerged teeth in a grin.
"I'll make you a matching one!" You declare, snatching the hat off of his helmet to give him the freedom of movement again, "Grogu, baby, what color should Din's be?"
"Bah!" Grogu decides, and your steps still where you're racing back towards your shelter.
"Uh... how about purple?" You suggest, and another resounding 'Bah.' is all the encouragement you need.
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chlorinecake · 9 days
Note
HELLO
Please PLEASE make a fic about the songs church- chase Atlantic!!
It's my latest obsession, next to enha ofc
leading you on | l.hs
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♱ plot: from the shy boy you first met at church camp who your parents once adored to their biggest fuckboy nightmare, you and heeseung reconnect on an online platform where you became a popular streaming duo together, leading to some steamy (and eventually forbidden) connections between you two…
loser!streamer!heeseung x fem!streamer!reader
♱ contains: SLOW BURN, swearing, sneaking out, mentions of bulges (multiple times), oral and fingering (f. r.), slight corruption kink, y/n stripping in front of a large audience (on camera), unprotected sex + virginity loss, y/n deliberately disobeying her parents, angst-ish, ft. other kpop idols, roughly 7k words
a/n: this is my first time writing a one shot all about Heeseung so hopefully I did our favorite loser boy some justice in this fic... have fun reading!
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Heeseung. He was always just so... flirty with you.
Not emotionally, that is, but physically.
Leaving lingering touches on your thigh during Bible study, whispering dangerously close to your ear in that bedroom voice of his, or texting you random pictures during the day with his bulge obvious in almost every single one.
Two little voices battled in the back of your mind whenever you were around him, one voice wanting him to take things further while the other found it strange how he did such things so shamelessly.
The boy's got sex written all over him, your friends would warn alongside your Christ-converted step-sister Giselle who'd had her fair share of 'guys like Heeseung' in the past.
But you didn't see him that way. Despite his flirty tendencies, you figured those were just attributes that made him who he is.
Who you've always loved him to be.
However, those Holy, Holy, God Almighty church days were long gone by now, being no more than a distant ninth grade memory to you and most of everyone else who attended back then.
Everyone except Lee Heeseung, who could never shake his adolescent infatuation with you... ____, the girl who accepted his flaws and eventually stole his heart.
You and Heeseung reconnected a few years later by chance, the same day of your one year anniversary on your streaming channel.
Initially, your content consisted of one-hour long broadcasts where you'd just talk with random strangers, hearing out their problems and giving righteous advice.
However, Heeseung became a recurrent visitor on your streams, coaxing you to speak on topics more interesting than whether its modest to wear glam makeup or if kissing should be saved for marriage.
Your channel amassed a whopping 20,000 new followers in the first month of Heesung partnering with you, and its part of what led him to becoming an anticipated guest to your growing fanbase.
A dynamic duo, some commenters would call you two... and much to your parents chagrin, at that.
Off camera, things were the same.
You and Heeseung had grown closer than ever, sacrificing sleep to text each other all night, doing fuck-all on your web streams for hours, and even considering meeting up in person for a broadcast after he shared with you that he still lived in the city.
But then... something changed.
Or more accurately, your overly controlling mother put her foot down.
|Messaging| 💬
Heeseung: So we're not allowed to hang out together this Friday ?
You: Not alone... and honestly, not on the streams anymore, either...
Heeseung: Don't tell me its bc ur shyyyy
You: Nope… pArEnTs ^^
You'd say your mom had it out to get Heeseung more than your dad ever did, resenting the mere mentioning of his name at weekly church gatherings.
"That daughter of yours has gained quite the audience on social media," one womann would say, "too bad she seems to be losing her Faith to that poor Heeseung boy..."
"Such a shame," another would agree, adding to the heat-bubbles boiling in your mother's blood-
"Our faith teaches forgiveness and kindness," you defended yourself, just as your mom gave you maybe her third lecture this week on why you should cut ties with him.
"It also advises caution and wisdom when it comes to who we allow into our social circles," she hummed back, taking a sip of her morning coffee, red lipstick staining the rim of the white mug, "I'd be no better than a fool to sit here and support this meaningless friendship between you and that... man."
You internally rolled your eyes at her words, thinking of something, anything to say in order to change the subject right now.
"Well, I have plans with some friends from church tonight, if you don't mind-"
"Will Heeseung be there?"
"What? No," you lied, and not for the first time, either.
It helped you to feel less guilt whenever you blamed it on the little voice in your head, "Just me and the girls," you clarified.
"Mhm," she smiled facetiously before continuing, "I'm afraid I still can't trust you to go, though... especially not after that little stunt you pulled online..."
Your hand halted at the kitchen countertop as her words settled in your mind, "What stunt?"
FLASHBACK
It all started with a picture.
A stupid picture you got dared to leak by an anonymous tipper who offered a $1,000 donation in exchange for a steamy photo of Heeseung.
Chelbear03: God, he looks so THICK
Chelsea, one of your viewers said in the streaming chat, practically moaning at the photo of Heeseung, biting her lip as if she could feel him inside her just by looking at the screen.
Chelbear03: PAINFUL 😩
pucca_princxss: Need a tissue for your drool, Sea-Sea? 🧻
Danielle, another fan joked.
Chelbear03: Okay, FIRST of all, I have drool coming from TWO holes rn- Secondly, I'd rather just have him lick it up 😔
Chelsea typed back, a nuance to her words that you couldn't tell was meant to be either comical or serious.
"Lick up what?" a curious voice asked from the screen.
That's when your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of Heeseung coming back into frame after saying he'd be "afk for a bit while showering."
His hair was still a bit damp from what you could tell, a towel draped lazily around his neck as your eyes unfortunately fell to the lump hiding behind his pants.
Oh God-
"N-nothing! Uhm... it's not important," you chuckled dryly, only adding to the awkwardness everyone was starting to feel from behind their screens.
pucca_princxss: OOP speak of the papi-
Chelbear03: Please forgive me, Hee-man 🧎‍♀️ ... bc I am disrespectfully foaming at the mouth as we speak-
Chelbear03 has left the stream
A notification of Chelsea having left the stream popped up in the chat almost immediately after she sent that message.
"What was that all about?," Heeseung smirked with confusion, looking between both you and the server comments displayed on his screen for an answer that never came.
"Fine then, keep your secrets... its not like I can't just rewind the stream highlights anyway," he added, just as you felt frantic emotions overcome you.
"Heeseung, you really don't wanna do that, just let me explain-"
His jaw dropped, not necessarily in shock, but with intrigue, the raunchy photo of his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants being displayed on the screen, right before his glossy deer-like eyes.
The same picture he'd only ever sent to you.
"I guess this is my mini Drake moment then," Heeseung chuckled to himself, a heavy sigh escaping your lips at his fortunately chill reaction.
"I did it for 1k, Heeseung, I'm sorry," you whined, pulling your knees up in your chair before burying your face behind them.
"Don't be... everyone already knows I'm your slut at this point," he said in a deeper voice, making you freeze once again as your eyes shot up to view the screen, almost in denial that such words even left his mouth.
anonymous tipper: worst thousand $$$ I ever spent... how abt I multiply the price by two for a sexy picture of the lady ?
yxstar3ject: ooo, but i was thinking maybe a double feature instead ? would luvvv to see how she treats this little slut of hers 🤭
Heeseung snickered so loud, you almost felt it on your skin, watching his facial expressions change with each suspicious message that filled the chat box, throughly entertaining him
"Guys, cut it out before I end the stream," you giggled shyly, revealing your full face that looked a little less flustered than earlier, "Heeseung isn't my slut either, okay? Just a good friend, I swear..."
pucca_princxss: you two need to stream in the same room one day bc this long distance sexual tension thing is so not the vibe :|
"Maybe one day..." Heeseung's voice faded off as he turned off the lights in his room, getting ready for bed...
"Maybe~~," your mother repeated in a mocking tone at the memory of your "filthy fest" of a stream that day, disgust displayed all over her before she took the last sip of her coffee as if it'd soothe her.
"Hope that refreshed your memory sweetie, but either way, my answer's no. Not with that slut on the streets and especially not without my supervision..."
“If you’re referring to Heeseung with that vulgar comment, I’m sorry to correct you, but it’s not right to just bash him with words like that,” you went on, leaning your elbows over the counter.
“Please, any guy who sends raunchy dick pics, let alone to a girl he’s not even dating, is a slut, ____,” your step-sister Giselle voiced while walking into the kitchen, dressed in athletic wear as she filled up her water canteen with a lemon flavored electrolyte packet, “not to mention those other weird things he says about your relationship on the stream.”
Despite how much your family claimed to dislike Heeseung, they had no problem with bringing him up every five seconds in a conversation.
You glanced at her through a side eye, shaking your head at the fact that she was just eavesdropping on your conversation, “That was hardly a dick pic, and you should know that better than me, Jizz-elle,” you retorted, putting extra emphasis on the first syllable of her old nickname.
“Yeah, real mature, ____… you can slut shame me but not your little online boyfriend?”
“Ladies!,” your mother raised her voice slightly, pursing her lips at the tension built up between you two, “that’s enough of this discussion…”
You noticed the way your mother’s eyes lingered on your step sister for a moment, “And where do you think you’re going?”
“To the gym,” she answered shortly, walking past your mom and out of the kitchen with haste.
You scoffed out loud, “Not gonna interrogate her like you did to me?,” you said, laughing as if humored when it was really just a way to mask how irritated you were.
“No,” your mom said with a delayed reply, “Giselle is not my blood… I must take her word for what she says to avoid conflict with your step-father… you, on the other hand, will—”
“—abide by your rules… got it,” you finished for her, knowing better than to continue going back and forth with her in this matter.
You left the kitchen, going up to your room and plopping yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you entered into a deep thinking space.
One in which you'd strategize on how to successfully sneak out of the house to hang out with Heeseung tonight.
|Messaging| 💬
You: So, you want me to meet you where again ?
Heeseung: Just take a hard right past the first stop sign from your place and a few steps past that one brown house (pls ignore my Dora ass instructions rn 🗿)
You: ok ok 😭, smart tho !! … that way, none of my neighbors will see your car :D
Heeseung: Exactly. U sure u still wanna do this, tho ?
You: Yeah, ofc ! Had enough of my mom nagging me all day ☝️ I need a release BIG time
Heeseung: Haha, okay then ! I’ll see you at 10:30pm
You: Cya ! 🐒
THE LAST TIME you and Heeseung met in person was back when you were both young teenagers, navigating hormones and puberty while aiming to keep God at the center of it all, so to speak.
You didn’t know what to expect from meeting up with him, and especially not under such circumstances.
Still, you had a pretty good feeling that all this trouble wouldn’t be for nothing.
It was currently 10:34pm as you turned off all the lights in your bedroom, wearing an all black outfit to ensure you weren’t seen.
You double checked to see if you had everything with you before leaving: phone, spare cash, and a well-rehearsed story in case you got caught.
Opening your bedroom window, you stuck out a leg, suddenly feeling thankful for your step-dad giving you the bedroom on the first story of his home.
Both your feet were on the floor now, your hands finding the window sill as you closed the window back, careful not to accidentally lock it back so you would be able to get back in later.
You then followed the instructions Heeseung outlined in your texts, walking a few blocks down and taking a right turn once you reached the stop sign.
That’s when you caught sight of his dimly lit side profile under the lights of his car and through the tinted windows.
His eyes were on his phone until your figure blocked the streetlight that shined in his car, drawing his attention to your face as a smile spread over his own.
His eyes lit up like you were the candle to his soul, stepping out of the sleek black car to come around and give you a hug.
“Oh- hi,” you chuckled shyly, hands hesitating to wrap around him before he pulled away, looking you up and down while bracing your shoulders.
“Hi,” he smiled back, “I was just about to text you when you showed up at my window… nice black fit, by the way.”
“Thanks,” you said in a playful voice, watching as he opened the car door for you to get in.
“Would it be wrong of me to assume your panties match, too?,” he asked teasingly, joining you in the vehicle before pulling out of his parked position and cruising out of the neighborhood.
“Wow, you’re really representing this slut persona of yours, huh?” You teased back, putting on your seatbelt.
“Mostly because I can’t help it,” he shrugged, flashing you a smile before looking back at the road, “the fans ship us anyway, so we might as well commit to it, right?”
“Righttt,” you answered suspiciously, poking his thigh before looking back out the window, “gosh, this is crazy…”
“What is?”
“How long we’ve known each other and still happened to maintain a solid friendship despite the distance.”
“Yea,” he agreed, turning down a lane decorated with flowers that somehow still shined in the dark of the night, “We’d be fools to give up this bond we share, though… fools not to explore it further.”
He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, showing you around his place before leading you to his bedroom, a familiar sight to you thanks to the streams.
“Oh- you’ve still got your monitors and mic set up?,” you asked curiously, noticing how the screen of his computer was on the streaming website.
“You remember what Danielle said on our last live? About us broadcasting in the same room together sometime…” he started shyly, pushing out another gaming chair for you to sit in.
“You really think it’s a good idea to stream right now?,” you rationalized, watching as he joined you in the nearby seat, “I mean, I’m obviously down for it, but what if my mom sees it again? Or Gisel—”
“I’ve already blocked your mom's account, ____, we should be fine,” he smiled, “and… if not… I’ll exchange another photo with your anonymous tipper for some forgiveness cash,” he shrugged, pouty lips making you melt a little inside. "Deal?"
You always knew that Heeseung was cute, but you didn’t think it was possible for him to get any better looking from behind the screen.
“Okay then,” you agreed with a sigh, hoping that your nerves would calm down once the broadcast started.
Almost instantly, 100 viewers joined when Heeseung pressed the “stream” button.
You both began with greeting everyone, trying to get past the chat’s excitement about finally getting to see you two in the same room together.
yxstar3ject: OMFG YALL ACTUALLY DID IT ❗️ this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤧
Chelbear03: holy fucking fuck, how is she so CALM NEXT TO HIM 😩
mrloverl0ver: everyone in favor of them playing truth or strip for us, spam the chat with W’s
pucca_princxss: hoon, you raging perv- WWWWWWWWWW XD
Chelbear03: ✨ W ✨
laylaspapi: W no homo wait, why's my name pink now ;-;
yxstar3ject: I took orange the other day ~ sawwy Jakey W <3
You watched as the chat box started to flood with W's and other random comments, feeling Heeseung sat a hand on your thigh as if to make you feel more comfortable.
"Alright peeps, chill out with the chat spamming, we see it," Heeseung said, laughing off some of the tension, "It's not like you guys didn't get a free show the other day, anyways," he added.
"I don't know..." you started, voice and logic trailing off as more letter W's filled the screen, "it might be fun?"
"____," Heeseung said more seriously this time, "it's a pointless game, y'know? We're honest with the fans... they already know most of secrets, so its silly to do truth or strip..."
"Great. That'll only make it more challenging for them to get our clothes off then," you smiled, suddenly feeling excited about playing, a bit of your competitiveness rubbing off on the initially cautious boy.
"Fine then... we'll do it," Heeseund said, eliciting a few viewers to send gifts to your broadcast, "I'm gonna need a drink for this first, though."
Heeseung was doing a good job of making it seem like he wasn't totally down for this, even though on the inside, he was mostly concerned with making sure you felt comfortable, too.
He left the room for a moment before coming back with two canned cocktails in his grip, placing them on his desk in front of you two.
"I'm guessing you don't drink much," he said, popping open a can of sugary fizz with his teeth while making eye contact with you, "so take it slow with this, yeah?"
"Sure, dad," you joked, taking a sip from the can, hoping that the alcohol would maintain your fleeting confidence, considering that you'd just agreed to strip in front of hundreds of people online.
Chelbear03: alr, first question heheh, starting easy !! :))) when was the last time you got upset and why
Chelsea was the first to initiate this little "truth or strip" questionnaire. Heeseung read the question out loud before humming to himself in thought.
“Hmm... maybe when I overcooked my ramen this morning?”
"Who eats ramen for breakfast?" You asked with a dry laugh.
"Don't judge me because I have good taste, ____," he replied, shoving your thigh with his knee a bit, "and you're dodging the question..."
"Oh- right," you chuckled shyly, thinking of what to say and whether to be honest, until you remembered the consequence would be to remove a piece of clothing.
“It was um... over some stupid things my stepsister was saying about a friend of mine… also this morning...”
"Does that friend so happen to be me by any chance?," Heeseung asked knowingly, giving you a look that you quickly brushed off.
"Moving on, next question!"
anonymous tipper: name the last person you hooked up with $100 donation on the line here, btw... plus someone's modesty 🙈
Oh God, you thought to yourself, dreading how this anonymous tipper knew you'd do almost anything for money.
It was really a bad trait of yours...
"Wow, just jumping to the extremes, aren't we?," Heeseung mumbled between a sip of his drink, the wet condensation drawing your attention to his glistening digits for a quick second.
How were you just now noticing how thick his fingers ar-
laylaspapi: uh oh someone looks nervous ...
pucca_princxss: mission accomplished 👹👹👹
In all honesty, you didn't really have an answer to that question, but to avoid coming off as prudish, you opted to take a pair of clothing off instead, lifting your hips in your seat to pull your pants down.
"____, what the-" Heeseung started before choking a bit on his drink, not just at your sudden boldness, but at the sight of your lace panties hugging the natural curves of your hips, pants getting bunched up at your ankles before you kicked them off under his desk.
yxstar3ject: 😭😭😭😭 DEFINITELY wasn't expecting that, oml-
Chelbear03: your turn, hee 🙏🙏🙏
Something about how frazzled your usually calm and collected best friend became at the simple act of you undressing before him gave you a feeling of exhilaration.
By now, your top barely covered the flesh of your thighs, a few commenters saying things about "wanting to take a bite" before Heeseung cleared his throat, hoping that they'd stop making things worse for him.
"Well uh, I'm not willing to strip a layer just yet, plus I could use the $100, so I'll be honest..."
The chat stalled momentarily as if everyone watching paused in eager anticipation of who and what Heeseung was going to say.
"It's been a while, I'll admit," he chuckled dryly, staring off as if envisioning it behind his sparkly eyes, "but it was around a year and a half ago... with a girl I'd rather not name, but she was a bit older than me..."
"Oh?," you accidentally said out loud, a strange feeling of happiness washing over you now that you knew he hadn't been with any girl since you two met reconnected. You're not sure why this information made you happy... or maybe you're just not ready to admit how you truly feel about him to yourself yet...
"How'd you two meet? Wait- why am I even asking that," you cringed at your own inevitable curiosity, Heeseung taking delight in how his timidness somehow rubbed back off onto you.
"Nah, it's okay... I'm sure the viewers wouldn't mind a little storytime-"
He adjusted his posture in the chair, eyes scanning a few new comments before he spoke, "I met her during my bad boy stage, I guess you could say... we bonded over the fact that we were both born in October until we eventually started smoking together at a friends house of mine every now and then... she and I were both going through some divorce drama with our parents and uh... we thought fucking would be a good emotional outlet? I don't know, maybe it was more of a distraction, I guess..."
Heeseung didn't expect himself to ramble the way he did, but he wanted you to know the main details, even though he left out a few parts for another time and conversation.
Chelbear03: what would it take for me to be that girl ? just for one night 😔
maindancertypeshit: pretty sure Hee just confirmed he's into older girls, Chels ... and ones with daddy issues at that-
You nearly snorted at the sudden comment, up until you realized who the last one came from.
"Excuse me, but what the hell is a toddler doing on this stream?" Heeseung asked sarcastically, obviously referring to Niki.
pucca_princxss: LMAO, looking for his mommy ofc 🤱 (😏)
maindancertypeshit: ayo, wtf??? so dani's allowed but I'm not?? hmph >:{
maindancertypeshit has left the stream
You sighed while laughing slightly, taking a sip of the drink as water droplets now dripped unto your thighs, Heeseung's eyes doing a terrible job of not staring.
"I say we do one more round before ending the stream," you offered, looking at the time as you knew you'd wanna spend more private time with Heeseung before having to run back home.
yxstar3ject: BOOOOOOOO :(
Chelbear03: im too pressed abt riki rn to give a damn bro did NAWT have to dish me the truth like that 😭😭
mrloverl0ver: ok ok, let's make this last question worth it then hmmm ...
Sunghoon typed in thought, just as the bulb in Heeseungs side lamp suddenly shattered, the loss of light coupled with it's piercing sound making you jolt in your seat, half of your canned cocktail spilling on your shirt and chest.
"Shit," Heeseung swore under his breath, happy that none of your drink or any glass from the lightbulb got on his streaming equipment.
That's when he noticed you shivering a bit, the cold liquid contrastingly with the warmth of your body.
"C-can you grab me a towel please?," you asked softly, Heeseung taking the can from your grasp and leaving the room with haste to grab a damp and dry cloth for you.
"Here," he offered when he came back, hooking his hands at the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one swift movement, making you gasp out loud.
You were now half-naked in front of your best friend, not to mention the tons of people watching from their digital screens.
"Heeseung, what're you-"
He was now taking off his own shirt, holding it in one hand while he wiped your chest down with the cloths he held in the other.
There was something about the way his eyes looked while wiping down your boobs, coming off as romantic despite the awkward nature of the situation.
"Put this on," he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, snaking your head through the head hole of his T-shirt while he flicked the ceiling light on, your mind running in a hundred different directions in this moment.
You're not sure if it had something to do with the alcohol, but your skin still tingled in the spots where his fingertips grazed your flesh... just like old times...
You don't think you ever put on a T-shirt faster in your life, wanting to cover up as fast as you could despite how everyone had already gotten a free show from the both of you.
laylaspapi: B👀BS ?!?!? caught in 4k? just like that !?!??!????
mrloverl0ver: guess that means the games over now since y'all started stripping regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
pucca_princxss: I think Heeseung's house might b haunted :'0
Chelbear03: HEESEUNGS FUCKING ABS RN- IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME !??!?
yxstar3ject: 👁👄👁
The chat was going crazy at this point, their flood of comments honestly being the last thing on your mind as you sat bottomless in Heeseung's gaming chair, wearing his T-shirt as he searched for another shirt somewhere behind you.
A billion emotions were coursing through your veins, still trying to grasp how you went from sneaking out your bedroom window, stripping in front of an audience, and getting flustered from the mere presence of Heeseung now.
"Alright guys, this was fun but we're gonna call it a night for now," Heeseung said as he came back into frame, not even bothering to sit back down as his right hand found the mouse, moving it towards the end stream button.
"Yeah, I think my streaming career might end here," you added jokingly, making Heeseung chuckle a bit at your words, his bright smile doing nothing but make your stomach flutter all over again.
What was going on with you?
"Who knows? Maybe we can work on starting an OnlyFans together ..."
"Heeseung-"
"I'm kidding," he laughed again, looking at your face from the screen, not even aware of how he bit his lip before speaking, "you look pretty on camera though, for what its worth."
The all-too familiar tune of the livestream ending rang in your ears, the screen displaying stats of the broadcast engagement, which surpassed any and every stream you've ever filmed before.
"Wow," Heeseung marveled, just as he shut his computer off.
"I know," you added, stretching your back while sitting, "we don't even reach stats like that in a week..."
"I wasn't talking about the ratings, ____," he returned, the room seeming much more quiet now that the computer was off, even though it's been this way the whole time.
"Enough about that, though," he started again, taking your hands in his to pull you out of the chair, "I haven't been a very good host to you this evening... making you work first thing before properly treating you... allow me to make up my lacking..."
"I mean... you gave me a nice seat and something to drink... you even lended me one of your shirts after I made a big mess of myself," you replied while giggling, feeling silly as he held both of your hands while speaking formally all of a sudden.
"Yes, yes, but I'm serious," he continued, now guiding you down to the rug lying in the middle of his bedroom floor, "you still like candy, right?"
ALMOST ANOTHER HOUR had passed and it was somewhere around midnight give or take, you and Heeseung hardly feeling tired as you sat on the mat together, alternating between eating orange slices and gummy bears.
You were propped up on your elbows, a glow still present on his face from the laughter you've shared together so far, even though there was something less innocent you wanted to get off your chest.
You were feeling completely reckless already, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to push things a little further.
Besides, it’s not everyday that a girl like you gets an opportunity like this just placed in her lap.
It's just like Heeseung said, you'd be a fool to give up this bond you two share and not explore it further...
Plus, you weren't sure how much longer you could hide behind the good girl act.
Giselle was right: Heeseung had sex written in full length parables all up and down his six-foot-something body, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.... if you said it didn't reel you in, like a burning desire to explore what's corrupted.
To be ruined.
"Heeseung," you started, making him look down at you as he sat with his legs crossed, hair messy from the amount of times he ran a hand through it, "can I ask you something?... It's... kinda personal..."
He popped another strawberry flavored gummy bear into his mouth, "As long as it isn't about your period, I should be good to help you then," he chuckled slightly.
"And what makes you think that I need help with something?"
"Hmm… maybe just that way that your nails keep picking with my wrist watch right now," he answered quietly, drawing your attention to your fingers which tend to get busy whenever you were nervous.
"Oh- I... I didn't even realize...," you laughed at yourself, shying your hands away before sitting up and hiding them in your lap.
"Well go on," he urged, looking back at you with warmth in his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, "What'd you wanna ask me?"
You let out a breath, clenching your thighs a bit as your sight fell between his legs.
Fuck, did he just laugh? God, he definitely noticed your peeking... you fucking perver-
"I don't really know how to word this but..." you chewed on your lip in thought, "Sometimes... when it's just you and me alone like this... even when we're just video chatting... I feel," you looked up at the ceiling as if it'd help you divulge, "I don't really know what to call it."
He blinked at your words, adjusting his sitting position on the ground, "Are there certain things I do or say that make you feel... whatever it is that you can't explain?" He asked, tilting his head at you, just as his hand inched closer to you on the rug, but not quite touching your skin yet.
"Its a few things, actually-"
"Like what?" His hand was now on your thigh, eyes glued on your shaky figure even though you avoided eye contact, lost in the veins that trailed the pretty skin of his arm.
"When you touch me," you whispered so quietly, the only reason he heard you was because he read your lips, thinking in his own mind what it'd be like to taste them, "like that."
"Speak up for me, I can hardly hear you," he urged, almost as if cooing at you.
"I can't," you said shakily, chest expanding slightly with each heavy breath you took in and let out.
Your idea of being bold was starting to backfire... if only you could stop being so awkward about this for one second-
"It's just me, ____," he whispered with a slight chuckle this time, your hands finding the fluffy rug beneath you as your skin still stung from where he'd last touched you, "be as honest with me as you need."
"Maybe it's best we just pretend I never said anything," your voice trailed off, regretting having looked into his dark eyes that stared back at yours because you felt as though your shield had faltered, his energy coaxing your mind to wander.
"Would you mind if I took a guess?," Heeseung offered with an expression you couldn't read, but you nodded anyway, just as his hand traveled further up your thigh, your breath hitching in your chest as you felt his finger tips meet your core.
"You feel something in here, don't you?," he whispered again, "Hurts, doesn't it?"
Like hunger pains, you answered in your head, finding his shoulder as half of you thought to push him away while the other half just needed to touch him.
You nodded shyly in response, thankful that he didn't move any further so you could catch your breath, already too effected by his actions.
"I feel it sometimes, too. The aching... but I'm sure you're old enough to know there's only one way to get rid of it."
You didn't even have to ask to know what he was implying, feeling tempted to give in to whatever this urge was.
He was right though. It did ache, and so badly, your own core tearing up with a need you never intended to entertain.
That's when his touch creeped closer to your core, your thighs closing around his hand as you struggled to think clearly.
You almost couldn't in a state like this.
It baffled you how the energy was starting to change, but it was only a matter of time that you'd be able to sit bottom less in front of Heeseung looking the way he does before something sexual would happen.
"Are you willing to let me help you?" He asked, gripping your flesh between his hands as a shy sound fell from your lips.
You were having second thoughts.
"As much as I'd like to, Hee, it just doesn't seem right anymore..."
Even though this was all your idea to begin with-
"But doesn't it feel right?" he pressed, feeling his hands gently pry your thighs back open, but its not like you were putting up much of a fight either, "Besides, you wouldn't have told me if you didn't want me to do something about it..."
In this moment, you couldn't care less about maintaining that fleeting sense of virtue all the elders in your life harped on growing up.
You were simply young, horny, lovesick, and in need of a release.
Before you knew it, your legs were parted for him, your back against the rug as his head got comfortable at your heat, fingers barely grazing over your now bare cunt before he started leaving plush kisses against your sweet spot.
The ache was definitely still there, but having him this close to you made it feel better.
Almost too good, honestly…
“Heeseung-” you cried out, clamming your thighs around his head as you felt his thick and warm tongue enter you.
Hooking his hands at your knees, it helped to open you back up for him, feeling your stomach tighten as he continued to lick you down.
“I’m still here, baby…” he cooed, looking back up at you, just as your phone started to ding, "relax for me, alright?"
It was a few random messages here and there, you being too pleasure-drunk to give a damn as he continued lapping at your slick, alternating between one and two fingers as he teased your hole, only making you want more.
“Fuck…s- someone’s calling me,” you whined, propping up on your elbows with tired eyes as you reached for your phone, seeing none other than Giselle's contact number as Heeseung left your core, getting on his knees and unbuckling his belt.
"What're you-"
Your words were cut off as he leaned closer into you, his bulge resting in between your folds as he looked into your eyes and said, "Answer it."
He was already rocking against your pussy as you struggled to stay focused, his boxers being covered in your slick just from how wet you'd gotten, even though you nodded no.
“You want me to help you, don’t you?” He continued, completely aware of your stalling and hesitance as the phone continued to ring, your breathing only getting heavier as he kept grinding against you.
You bit your lip, clenching around nothing as his fingers cascaded over your sensitive spot. Heeseung practically drooled at the sight, your tight little cunt all slick and messy for him.
"Hello?" Giselle asked over the phone, "where the hell are you right now?"
Fuck.
You watched nervously as Heeseung pulled his boxers past his hips, his thickness springing up now that it was finally free to breathe.
"What're you talking about, I was just in my room," you lied terribly, watching Heeseung with pleading eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, bracing a hand on you lower abdomen while glaring back at you, a glint of playfulness in his doe eyes.
Oh, the way you wanted to smack him across his pretty face right now-
"I wasn't born yesterday, ____. I checked your room an hour ago and you're still not here. Tell me where you are," she continued, voice cracking a bit as you winced through a bitten lip, thanks to Heeseung somehow having slid his thickness inside you.
Well, most of the way, at least...
"____?"
"Y-yes, I'm listening, just- don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit-"
"That still doesn't answer my question, ____..."
Thud.
You accidentally dropped your phone beside your head once Heeseung pushed all the way in now, leaving a few kisses along your neck to help you calm down.
His hips were still, but for some reason, your breathing remained shaky beneath him, your step-sister still awaiting your reply on the other side of the phone.
"Call you later," you said in a squeaky voice, reaching over to hang up the phone as Heeseung started to move again, your legs trembling a bit as the nerves in your mind traveled through your whole body.
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked sarcastically, hand following a trail from your waist, over your boob, then to your neck, goosebumps sprouting on your skin as you suddenly felt cold, your body internally shivering.
"Hee," you said with a whimper, feeling his grip loosen around your neck before he started thrusting into your walls, your slick providing just enough lubrication for him to slide in and out easily.
You couldn't even think in your mind at this point, his actions already becoming more than you could handle given how new everything was.
How nice he felt.
"C'mon, don't get quiet on me now, baby, I just started," he teased, slamming his pelvis against yours to hopefully reel a moan out of you, which obviously worked, your hand flying up to grip the fluffy rug over your head as it became harder to hide your sounds.
He hissed at the feeling of you clenching around him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.
"So either you like it when I'm rough with you or when I call you baby..." he started in a low voice, "which is it?"
"M-maybe both... now can you stop trying to turn me on with your words for one fucking second?," you asked with labored breaths, feeling your orgasm creep up on you a lot sooner than anticipated.
Sure, this was your first time, but you were glad he didn't treat you like a baby during the whole thing.
There was just something about the way his voice sounded in this moment, the way he was rutting into you like a horny teenager that took you over the edge.
And he was being such a tease, trying to make you talk knowing that your sentences would be broken and whiney thanks to how rough he was going.
He wanted to hear you falling apart underneath him.
He let out the most attractive chuckle you'd ever heard at your words, "But I can tell it's working," he smirked, bracing himself against the floor so you could wrap your legs around him better, "now quit your complaining and keep taking me like a good girl, alright?"
You're sure your clit started doing backflips at the pet-name, coupled with the pretty sounds he was very intentionally humming beneath your ear.
He found your wrists on the rug, sliding up to your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours,
“Stop trying to act tough, I can tell this is all new to you…. don’t even know what to do with your hands, huh?” his said, watching as your eyes get lost in the view of his shaggy hair.
He snickered, “you can touch it if you want…”
Fuck, you thought to yourself. You don’t know why you felt the need to put on some act for him… maybe it was because you assumed a competition between yourself and other girls he’s been with, even though in reality, you’d been the only girl on his mind for a while now.
“I…,” you started with a stutter, “I can’t.”
Your fingers were still interlaced with his, but your inability to touch him had less to do with the fact that he had you pinned down, and more so to do with your nerves.
As badly as he wanted to keep toying with your head in this moment, he could you were getting closer from how your breath kept hitching, so he didn’t have much time to play.
Releasing his grip from your hands, he brought a thumb to your chin, tapping at it for you to open your mouth, “I’m gonna speed up now then, okay?”
He choked out, his own head becoming a little fuzzy as you parted your lips obediently for him, the sight of your tongue laving at his fingers being enough to make him feel like cumming.
He knew you had to get home quick now, but he still wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.
Once he collected enough of your spit on his fingers, he slid his hand down, circling your swollen bud while looking into your eyes, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders to brace yourself.
“Fuck, Heeseung~,” you cursed with furrowed brows, whimpers that almost sounded like high pitched hiccups falling from your lips as you felt your hips chase his.
There was so much energy coursing through both of your bodies that it could charge your dying phone on the floor right now.
“It’s okay baby, you’re almost- shit, you’re almost there,” he grunted weakly as he continued fucking into your walls with his fingers at your clit, his own eyes closing at how good your tightness felt around him.
You never heard yourself sound like this before, getting all whiny just as he whispered the words “Come for me” against your neck, sealing the space with a kiss and retreating his hand from your core, holding you in place as your orgasm hit like a flood.
You were squirming so much, walls pulsating like a drum as he kissed you down, your hands finally being brave enough to grip at his hair while he rode out your high.
You could tell that he didn’t finish inside you, but he was nice enough to slow down and not fuck you completely stupid.
“I can’t even believe we just did that,” you mumbled mindlessly, eyes staring back at him as he started to gently caressed your cheek.
“Wasn’t too bad for a quickie though, right?,” he asked jokingly while still inside you, not quite yet ready to pull out of your comforting warmth.
To say goodbye to the you he brought out in this sex-filled space.
“No… it wasn’t bad at all,” you smiled back, words sounding somewhere in between a shocking realization and sincere compliment.
“Then I guess that means we can look forward to doing this more often-”
“Heeseung-”
“Kidding,” he whispered softly, meeting your lips in one last kiss before leaning back up to adjust his pants, “now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for home before your mom has me crucified.”
“Okay,” you said while laughing slightly until he pulled out of you, your legs trembling a bit from the missing fullness.
From the feeling in his chest, Heeseung came to fully accept that he was 110% in love with you, not giving a flying fuck about the naysayers who’d disapprove of your now-even-more-complicated friendship.
You on the other hand, came to realize that Heeseung was worth much more than being judged by a bunch of hypocrites, and that you now had the courage to make a lot of your own decisions now, even if they’re solely for the sake of pleasure.
”Still,” you continued, watching as he stood up from the ground to grab a pack of wipes from his desk, “I just remembered that I locked my bedroom window when I left.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked while parting your legs, wiping your sweaty thighs down with your panties hunched up in his other hand.
You admired the view of him cleaning you up with adoration flooding your heart, your limbs letting themselves relax as feathery words fell from your lips, “It means I might have to spend the night at your place for a little longer…”
Fin…
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♱ Thank you beyond words to everyone reading this right now! I teased the release of this fic a while ago but ended up changing almost everything that I’d originally written because it was kinda shitty 🥴 but hopefully you all enjoyed this fic anyway! Also, masterlist is here !!
♱ tag list: @fakeuwus @adeoluhh @zerasari @anonant @yaatrickyaaa @depressedandobsessed666 @woninluv @moonshoon @imjakes-wifeofc1 @heesbee @kaykay11sworld @wannieepisod @ilikekpop-c @heesoo11 @idkdykilr @seungjiseyo @nctislifue @ro-diaries @heesushiii @jakehooni @babygirlmarshmellow @jaysdze @princeseung @flowerbe0m @skzenhalove @rayofsunshineeee @wonsbaer @namdeyuoi @tasnim10 @cheruluv @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ashgonedash
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woso-dreamzzz · 29 days
Text
Treat You Better III
Laia Codina x Reader
Summary: You visit Spain
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The language barrier posed a bit of a problem but you could get past that.
The food posed a bit of a problem but you could get past that too.
What you couldn't get past was the topless sunbathing.
You weren't prudish by any means. But you were Irish and the beaches you usually went to in Ireland were full of pebbles. You didn't sunbathe in Ireland. You just hoped that you didn't get taken out by a wave.
Spanish beaches were different though. They were sandy and the sea was calm and all of Laia's friends were stripping off their bikini tops and lying out in the sun.
Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline at how easily everyone did it. You hadn't experienced much cultural issues moving from Ireland to England but now you were getting the experience that Laia did.
Moving from Spain to England was a big thing, full of cultural differences that she had to adapt too. Now you're doing the same.
You didn't know the rules surrounding this so you just decided to avert your eyes and pretend that it wasn't happening.
You sat under an umbrella and contemplated whether it was rude to just duck into a shop and stay there until everyone was ready to go.
"You aren't sunbathing?"
"I'm Irish, luv," You say," I don't tan well. I burn."
"Katie tans."
"Yeah, she got lucky. I didn't."
Laia wiggles under the umbrella with you. She's shirtless just like her friends but you don't feel awkward looking at her. You've seen her naked countless times. Seeing her topless seems a little tame in comparison.
Seeing her friends and other world class footballers shirtless was a little different.
"You don't tan at all?" She pouts at you," I could have sworn you did in Australia."
"You were watching me back then?" You laugh," You little stalker."
Her cheeks turn pink. "I thought you were very pretty. It is a shame you won't try to tan here."
"I'll burn," You insist," And we'll go back to London and Katie will tease me. I'm not attempting it."
"But you tan! I know you do! I've seen it!"
"It's too much effort," You say nonchalantly," I'm happy here. I might go and buy an ice cream. I'm fine, luv."
She looks at you suspiciously, her pout getting bigger and bigger the more you attempt to get away.
"Leave her alone, Codi!" You hear someone yell, Mariona you think.
"I'm just wearing her down!" Laia yells back with a teasing smile," Don't ruin this for me!"
"Ruin this for you?" You echo," I see how it is. You want to see me topless."
She tries to deny it but her stuttered words betray her true attention.
"You're cute, luv, but no, I'm not stripping in front of your friends."
"Why not? You're not insecure are you?" Her words come out in a stream, interspersed with random kisses pressed to your face. "Because you're so beautiful and you're stunning and I think you're so much prettier than all of my friends and you shouldn't feel insecure about something like this."
"Laia-"
"Because you have nothing to feel insecure about. And I love you and-"
"Laia-"
"You should never feel bad about your body and-"
"Laia! Luv, shut up. I'm not insecure. I know I have a good body but...These are your friends and they're topless."
Laia frowns. "I don't understand."
You laugh. "It'd be like if we went to the beach with Katie and Caitlin and they whipped their tops off. You would feel a little awkward, wouldn't you?"
You can see Laia think it over for a moment. She turns it over in her mind. You can see the moment she imagines Katie topless because her eyes suddenly squeeze shut.
"I see," She admits," But you promise you do not feel insecure?"
"I promise," You say, laying a kiss on her lips," Just feeling a little awkward. I'm sure after a few more trips I'll feel more comfortable."
She beams. "You want to come back?"
You roll your eyes. "Yes, Laia. This is your home. These are your friends. Of course, I want to come back."
She attacks you with kisses, pinning you against your beach towel.
"Codi!" One of her friends call," Stop kissing your girlfriend! I want to go paddle boarding!"
"Go, luv," You laugh, pushing her away," We have lots of time later."
446 notes · View notes
psychedelic-ink · 9 months
Text
𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐒
pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader
genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut (like very explicit), minors dni
word count: 7k
summary: you and joel continue to see one another, no matter the distance. And finally, you two breach the subject of "what are we".
warnings: joel is still bi in this, minor angst in the beginning, live stream sex, piv, messy titjob, dirty talk, possesive!joel, squirting, a hint of jealous joel, good girl/sir, praise kink
a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @trauma-dol 💜 thank you so much for commissioning me, I appreciate it lots!
part two of ravish
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There are a lot of things you don’t like. The smell of roasted chickpeas, for instance. While others might find it inviting, it's just an odd scent that doesn't sit right with you. Then there's that annoying feeling of needing to pee right after you've gotten all cozy in bed. The list just goes on. You can think of a million things that annoy the heck out of you. 
However, waiting for someone that you’ve been eager to see for months to arrive at your doorstep might be the thing you hate the most. 
Worry bubbles up within you, and you can't help but sigh as you reach for the phone. Joel was supposed to arrive a good thirty minutes ago. 
Excited to see him, you had spent time chopping up an assortment of fresh vegetables – plump tomatoes, vibrant bell peppers sliced into perfect rings, and red onions thinly shaved and ready to caramelize into sweet perfection.
Besides the cutting board, a bowl of freshly shredded mozzarella cheese sits in fluffy mounds, ready to meld and melt into gooey goodness. Fragrant basil leaves are waiting to be scattered over the final creation. The pizza dough had been carefully prepped and now resting. 
But alas, there’s still no sign of him. 
“Dammit Joel, where are you?” 
You knew you should’ve just picked him up from the airport. You should’ve just ignored his protests and gone. New York is a big city; he could’ve gotten himself lost. Or worse, someone might’ve tried to kidnap him, rob him—sure, he’s a big man, but this is New York City.
It had been a hectic month. After you moved back from your family home, the issue of whether or not the relationship should continue had been a hot topic of sorts. For a while, you both decided to embrace the idea of "not putting a label" and simply being together during your visits. However, that proved to be too complicated. Losing yourselves in each other during every visit didn’t really allow for anyone else to come in between.
Not that you were complaining. You really liked Joel and didn’t really have any desire to date anyone else. Joel had enamored you completely. It was hard to keep it casual when all you wanted was him. But clearly, Joel didn’t want anything serious. He was content with how things were. 
The thought made your heart sink painfully in your chest. 
You tried to visit each other once a month, although most of the time it ended up being once every two months. He still joined your live streams. And when your viewers realized you were more than happy to indulge in JMiller’s requests, they started to get suspicious, commenting and teasing relentlessly. That meant you had to ignore him for a bit, which you hated doing. 
You did enjoy the punishments that followed though. 
A sudden buzz pulls you away from memory lane. Looking down you see a text from Joel, prompting your smile. 
Almost there, honey. You weren’t kidding about the traffic. 
“Dork,” you grin. Your head falls back against the back of the couch. You’ve missed him and now that he’ll be here soon makes you all giddy. Dormant butterflies erupt in your chest. Just the thought of him is enough to excite you. For an entire week, Joel Miller is yours. You had planned out everything. Not a minute will be wasted. Not on your watch. 
Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. You practically jump off the couch and run toward the sound. When you open it, you’re breathless, the tiny hairs at the back of your neck standing with attention. 
It’s him. 
He’s here. 
His eyes are tired, the crinkles you love to kiss deepening with his wide smile, “Hey there, sweetheart,” he says. “Miss me?” 
You jump towards him and wrap your arms around his neck. You hear the “oomf” that vibrates from his chest as you tug him impossibly close, forcing him to lean over you. Joel’s hands find the dip of your waist, squeezing tenderly, his nose bumps affectionally into the crook of your neck, and heat gathers under your skin. 
“God I missed you,” you say, voice trembling. Desperately you hold his face and bring him to your lips. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth, the movement dripping with a need for authority and control. You happily give it to him, opening wide. He sucks the air from your lungs and swallows your moans. Slick gathers between your legs, the fabric of your underwear clinging to your cunt and asking for the stretch of his cock. 
Joel guides the roll of your hips, chuckling darkly into your mouth when you desperately rub yourself against the denim. A shudder rolls up your spine. His cock firming under his jeans, “Honey,” he rasps. “Maybe we should close the door first?” 
“Why?” you say with a hitch of your breath. You drag your lips down his neck, nip at his racing pulse. “I know the neighbor wouldn’t mind. He watches my streams.” 
You’d said it without a second thought, which might’ve been a mistake on your part. His muscles grow rigid under your palms, the heat melting quickly like ice under the hot summer sun. “Is everything okay?” you ask, cupping his cheeks and forcing his gaze up. 
His gaze stays on you only for a moment before he drops his eyes to your lips. Your brows furrow at the reaction. His eyes are clear like a sky before a storm. Obviously, he has the question he wants to ask already locked and loaded but refusing to pull the trigger. He lifts his hands, the width of them blanketing yours as he pulls them down. 
“Just tired,” he sighs. He’s saved by the loud grumble of his stomach, the tension breaking. “And hungry,” he adds with a crooked smile. You force a smile and ignore the trembling of your bottom lip. Joel’s tone might be playful but it does little in calming your nerves. Moving away, the chill you feel on your skin is instant. 
“I prepared most of the ingredients,” you say. “I thought pizza and wine?” 
“We’re in the birthplace of the dollar pizza and you made it homemade?” 
You giggle at how comically wide his eyes are. “Well forgive me for not wanting to feed you the cheapest thing available,” Joel’s lips touch your temple, warmth blossoming where his mouth brushes against. “And I thought it would be fun.” 
“It will,” he murmurs. “I’m not used to bein’ pampered I guess. Only Sarah cares about what goes down my gullet.” 
“Hmm I don’t recall saying it was due to the consideration of your health,” you tease, fingers tiptoeing from his arm to his shoulder. He shivers at the touch. “Maybe, I just want to see what these strong hands can do with some dough.” 
His mere grin manages to send ripples of pleasure down your spine. Something dark and wicked crosses his face and you let out a shaky sigh. “Brat,” he teases. 
With a cat-like grin of your own, you close the door. 
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Joel stands before the kitchen counter, the soft glow of the overhead light accentuating the contours of his figure. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing sinewy forearms that glisten with a slight sheen of flour. The muscles beneath his sun-kissed skin ripple as he reaches for the dough, his biceps forming a subtle bulge with each purposeful movement.
With a focused expression, he takes the smooth, slightly elastic dough in his hands. The material yields to his touch, supple yet resilient. As his strong fingers sink into the dough's yielding embrace, you can't help but admire the way he handles it. His touch is both firm and gentle, his hands a testament to years of construction work that have endowed him with strength and dexterity.
The dough stretches and folds, responding to his guidance with grace. His hands move with an almost mesmerizing rhythm, kneading and pressing, coaxing the dough into a state of perfection. The occasional wisp of flour dances in the air as he works.
You watch, entranced, as Joel's fingers work their magic. The concentration etched on his face, the way his lips quirk up in a faint smile as he loses himself while doing so makes your heart race.
As he works, you find your own fingers involuntarily tracing the outline of your wine glass.
"Enjoyin' the view, honey?" Joel's voice rumbles, breaking through the silence. You quickly set the wine glass down and begin to babble something in response, your words stumbling over each other. But before you can complete your sentence, Joel grips your wrist, pulling you toward him. Your back is flush against his solid chest.
His scent of pine and undeniable masculinity, surrounds you, intoxicating your senses as effectively as the wine you had been sipping. The shift in the atmosphere is palpable, charged with an electricity that sends shivers down your spine.
Joel's hands find yours, and he guides them to rest above the dough, his touch sending a jolt of awareness through you. “I’m the guest why the hell am I doin’ all the work?” His fingers intertwine with yours, his calloused skin brushing against your more delicate touch. Your heart beats in sync with the rhythm of his kneading.
Kneading the dough together, you feel a growing pressure against your lower back. It takes a moment for you to realize – his erection, firm and unmistakable, pressing against you. The realization sends a rush of heat to your cheeks, and your breath catches in your throat.
His hand drops to your waist, guiding the grind of your hips. You feel him as the dress you’re wearing dips between your asscheeks, clothed cock parting the two gently. A soft growl rumbles in his chest, the tremble of it felt against your back. Your focus has shifted. The dough forgotten entirely. 
“You’re makin’ cookin’ really hard, sweetheart.” 
You manage a breathless chuckle, "Oh, and whose fault might that be, Mr. Master Dough Kneader?"
He snarls into your ear, hot breath causing goosebumps. “You really are bein’ a brat today. Is there a special occasion for that?” 
Honestly, being a brat really wasn’t your objective. It just. . . sorta came out. You reveled when Joel took control, be it face-to-face or during streams. There’s always something primal lingering under his touches, his words. You roll your hips, cutting his breath short, you feel the length of him being dragged down between the plump flesh of your ass. 
“I just want to make you happy,” you say surprisingly soft. When you attempt to rub against him once more, he stops you, both hands now on your waist, squeezing you in warning. 
“You do make me happy,” he breathes out. His voice is deep, slivering down your back. Heat pools between your legs and you lean into his warmth. “Why would you say that?” 
“Forget it,” You hadn’t expected him to take it so seriously. Worry begins to inflate your chest, heat rising to the tips of your ears and making you short of sight. You attempt to reach for the tomato sauce, making sure to drag the plumpness of your behind against the heft of his cock in order to eradicate the moment. You don’t want him to think too much about it. Or decide that what you have—whatever it is—isn’t worth it. 
The pads of your fingers brush against the smooth surface of the bowl but you can’t reach it. Not quite. Joel turns you over, hands between your waist and the sharp edge of the counter. Frustrated, you fill your cheeks with air and shoot him a glare. “Seriously, it’s nothing, Joel.” 
“No it ain’t,” he snaps silently. “Why would you stress about makin’ me happy?” 
He scoffs at your silence, “What? You think I’m just passin’ the time by comin’ here? That if it’s not worth my time I’ll just leave?” he asks, baffled. Your gaze drops to the granite floor, bottom lip sucked between your teeth. Joel’s eyes go wide, bushy eyebrows almost touching his hairline. “Wait you actually think that?” 
You remain silent. 
“Sweetheart. . .” he shakes his head and pinches your chin, pulling your gaze back up. He looks concerned. Remorseful. You try not to think about your pulse skyrocketing under your skin, try to ignore the skip of your heart. “You really think I’m that shallow?” 
“No,” you answer suddenly, the need to defend him to himself burrowing in your chest. “It’s not that. I just. . . I don’t know. I’m confused I guess.” 
“‘bout what?” 
His thumb draws slow circles on your cheek, you close your eyes, heart and chest suddenly light as air. You could float if you had the capability. You nuzzle his hand like a hurt animal, begging for more of his touch. 
“I really really like you, you know.” 
“I really like you too, honey,” you ignore the way his words and smile make your skin prickle with delight. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.” 
You sigh, you’re stuck between the constant worry and the comfort he’s providing. Despite being known as a chatterbox, you’re having trouble finding the words. 
“I know that me streaming isn’t. . . conventional but I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t even do private streams anymore,” your eyes flit between his eyes, trying to get a read of whiskey-colored eyes. Fear coats your tongue upon noticing his lips are a thin line—definitely not a good sign. “And well. . . I don’t plan on seeing anyone else either because. . .” 
You melt in relief when his lips finally crack into a small smile, “Because you really really like me?” 
“Precisely,” you say a bit loud and excited. “And of course, I don’t want you to feel pressure but. . . are you seeing anyone?” you clear your throat. “B—Besides me, that is.” 
“Well. .  . sometimes I watch CammingBravo when he’s streamin’.” 
“Joel!” you huff out a laugh and playfully smack his chest. “You know that’s not what I meant.” 
Adoration dots over his face, the corner of his eyes wrinkling with his smile. You love it when he teases you. Love it even more when he just stares at you with blatant amusement. The expression doesn’t linger long though. Like a small flame under rain, it sizzles out, his demeanor changing suddenly. 
His brows furrow, a crease you so desperately want to kiss away forming between them. Joel’s jaw ticks, the muscle above it twitching. He inches closer until your foreheads are pressed together, snug. Your heart is beating with rapid thumps, your breath caught in your throat.  
“I’m not seein’ anyone else either,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not planin’ on seein’ anyone else either.” 
“R-Really?” 
He nods, “I want you, sweetheart. Completely. I don’t care what you do on your streams as long as you’re mine when the camera shuts off.” 
Your smile is instantaneous. It’s not like you planned on streaming for the rest of your life, arrangements could be made to make him more comfortable. And you had stopped collabing with Dieter ever since Joel came into the picture—though, now that you knew Joel watched the fallen-from-grace actor’s streams. . . you were getting ideas. 
Joel nudges you with the tip of his nose, smiling, yet still hesitant, “Say somethin’ will you?” 
“So, we both want to be exclusive?” you grin. “That’s what you’re saying?” 
“Reckon, I am,” he answers with a snort. He parts his lips to say more but you beat him to it, covering his mouth with your own. The kiss is long and sweet. It feels like a first kiss in a way, even though you have kissed Joel many many times before.
“Come on now, let’s get these ready and pop them into the oven,” his grin is wide as he pinches your ass, you jump with a yelp and he laughs. When you fix him a half-hearted glare, he only winks. The simple action makes your insides clench. “I’m starvin’.” 
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The next day, you take Joel to your favorite coffee shop. They make the best bagel sandwiches and you’re eager for him to try them out. He gets the classic bacon, egg, and cheese, and you order the avocado BLT. You offer to pay, but Joel being Joel, he quickly distracts you by dragging his lips from your temple to your cheek, swiftly taking out his wallet.
You give him a look of pure betrayal. If you were wearing pearls, you’d be clutching them by now. “Joel Miller,” you say, aghast. “How dare you use your charm for evil?” 
His laughter fills the air as he hands his credit card to the barista, his broad chest rising and falling with each boisterous sound. Your lips twitch into a smile as he cups your waist, pulling you close. His lips touch your ear and heat warms your cheeks. “Sorry, honey. I can’t always use my powers for good.” 
All you can manage is a short nod. Your senses narrow on the way his breath ghosts your skin, warm and soft like a summer breeze. For a second you forget about the bagels and the coffee shop, all you can think of is him; his body, his voice, his scent—arousal pulses between your legs. If you were positive the two of you wouldn’t get arrested for public indecency, you’d let him take you against this very counter for everyone to see. 
“Come on now,” he teases, reading your expression easily. “I got the goods, let’s find ourselves a good table.” 
Alas, he really was holding a tray in his hands. You have no idea when the barista finished making your order. Either you’d been fantasizing for too long or you had one hell of a barista. 
The two of you stand awkwardly in the middle of the coffee shop and look around. You notice a couple of people staring you down, their gazes fixed on you, some of them even being bold enough to do the old-fashioned up-and-down. You quickly divert your gaze and point toward a table right next to the large windows. Frankly, you’re used to the staring. They rarely came up to you since no one wanted to be the one known for enjoying porn. Especially in public. Most of the time they’re harmless. 
Walking towards your table, you cheat a glance at Joel. If he did notice the looks, he didn't say anything. He made no indication of discomfort or anything of the sort. Relief sprinkles over you, maybe the looks weren’t as obvious as you initially had thought. 
Joel took a seat and you sat across from him, he shot you a look before reaching for his black coffee, “Everythin’ alright?” 
“Yeah,” you clear your throat, trying to keep your nerves in check. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 
Just as he opens his mouth, you notice someone approaching in your peripheral. You hold your breath, eyes dropping to the bagels. The person, whoever it was, just stands at the end of the table. You feel the stranger’s eyes eating you up. Fuck, of all the times why now? 
“May we help you?” you hear Joel say, his tone the complete opposite of his words. When you look up at him from between your lashes, he’s staring at the stranger, the look dancing on the line of being a full-on glare. You take a slow breath and turn. 
It’s a young-ish man with blonde hair and brown eyes. Your first expression of him is that he seems kind. He doesn’t acknowledge Joel’s presence at all which you find impressive. Even across from him, you can feel the heat of his stare. 
“Hi,” the man says kindly. “S-Sorry to bother you but are you Honeysuckle? On Ravish?” 
Joel visibly bristles at that. And, despite your better judgment, it turns you on. 
“Yup, that’s me,” you let out an awkward chuckle. He extends a hand and you quickly take it, wanting this to be done as soon as possible. 
“I love your streams!” 
“Thank you,” you smile with tight lips. “I appreciate your support.” 
“Can I get a picture?” 
Briefly, your gaze flits to Joel, a shadow crosses his face, eyes dark in warning. Your breath hitches a bit, skin prickling, some part of you wishes the hardened gaze was directed at you instead. 
You turn back to the man, “Sorry I don’t do pictures,” he seems visibly heartbroken by that so you quickly add. “But I can give you an autograph if it’s all the same to you.” 
Oh god, you hate when you have to put it like that. It makes you sound so full of yourself. You’re not a movie star. 
His eyes sparkle, “Thank you!” he pulls out a small notebook and hands it to you. “Can you make it out for Alex?” 
“Sure.” you quickly sign your name—well, not your name name but your stream name; Honeysuckle. You add a little heart next to the name and return the notebook. 
“Thank you!” he repeats, his genuine glee spreading in the air and caressing your skin. Your stomach does a small somersault as he walks away, clutching the notebook close to his chest. 
“Well, at least he was nice about it,” Joel grunts, finally taking a sip of his coffee. You’re not sure what to take from his response, or expression for that matter. Is he mad? You don’t think he is. You nearly jump out of your skin when his focused gaze suddenly snaps to you. “You alright?” 
“U-Uh, yeah,” you wave your hand in dismissal. “This kinda stuff happens. Most of the time they don’t say hi though.”
“So they just stare at you like a piece of meat?” 
“Pretty much, yeah.” your voice is uncaring. Honestly, you’re used to it by now. It’s not like you had the most respectable job, at least, not according to most people. You can only imagine the comments you would get if you had Instagram, or if Ravish didn’t have a tight-proof system that allowed you to ban people on sight. You reach for your sandwich and take a bite, you chew slowly. 
Joel snarls, “Assholes.” 
“I was hoping you didn’t notice,” you smile around your second bite. He seems almost offended by what you said, crossing his arms over the expanse of his chest. 
“Of course I did,” he huffed. “And why wouldn’t you want me to notice?” 
“I don’t know,” you truly didn’t. “I guess I didn’t want any hiccups to happen right after we decided to be. . . exclusive.” 
“Honey. . .” he gives you the tiniest smile, eyes full of care. “Don’t worry, people starin’ ain’t gonna get me packin’. Don’t you. . . don’t you know my feelings run deeper than that?” 
Joel's words hang in the air, his gaze searching your eyes for any sign of reassurance. The last thing you ever wanted was to make him feel like he was the source of your worry, the reason for your unease. Yet, here he was, looking like he believed he was to blame for your discomfort.
You lower your gaze to your sandwich, suddenly feeling a weight on your chest that has nothing to do with the bagel. It's not that you doubt his feelings for you, but you've carried the weight of your own insecurities for years, and it's hard to let go of them all at once.
Tears threaten to well up, and you quickly blink them away, not wanting to appear vulnerable in the middle of the coffee shop. You take another bite of your sandwich, chewing mechanically as you try to compose yourself. The flavors of avocado and bacon mix on your tongue, but they seem tasteless compared to the swirl of emotions within you.
Joel's hand finds yours on the table, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles. When you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, you're met with eyes that hold a storm of emotions. Concern, understanding, and a vulnerability that mirrors your own.
"You're not alone in this, you know?" he murmurs. 
You let out a shaky breath. You're not used to showing this side of yourself, not after so many years of self-preservation and guarding your heart and yourself.
"I guess I’m still not used to this yet" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not your fault at all, it’s just been so long since I’ve been with anyone. . . emotionally. I'm sorry if I made you feel responsible."
He leans across the table, his warm hand cradling your cheek. His touch is gentle, his thumb caressing your skin. "I get it, sweetheart. And you don’t need to apologize. We’re the same in that aspect, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either. Just. . .  know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together."
You lean into his hand, you’re feeling lighter already. 
Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Besides," he mutters, sitting back. “I don’t run away from what’s mine.” 
Mine. 
One simple word. A noun of all things, is what makes you melt in your seat. It’s sobering. Waking you in a way that no amount of coffee ever could. Mine. He said that. You heard the possessive lilt laced with the word, almost daring you to object. You nearly do if you’re honest, shadows dance in his eyes, draw you in like a bunny rabbit sniffing a tempting trap. You want to take the bate. Sink your teeth into that carrot to see how he’ll react, the things he’ll do to prove just how true his words were. 
Instead, you clench your thighs together and propose something else instead. 
“Let me prove to you that I’m yours then,” you say. Eagerness caused Joel's eyes to widen, his jaw betraying his emotions with a subtle twitch. “In fact, let’s show the world.” 
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No matter how vivid your imagination was, no matter how long you prepared and checked the equipment over and over again, nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared you for Joel walking through your bedroom door.
You had picked out a form-fitting black button-up shirt for him to wear. The fabric hugged his biceps, the seams barely holding on. The shirt stretched over the expanse of his chest, the buttons doing a better job compared to the seams in holding everything together. However, you were certain if he stretched even a little, the shirt would rip with a satisfying pop. 
That isn't all, though. Your eyes move up from the shirt, your gaze tracing the lines of his body until they land on the striking green mask he's wearing.
The mask is a deep shade of forest green, with intricate gold detailing that seems to dance in the light. Swirls and patterns weave across the surface, accentuating the gilded flakes in his eyes. 
His brown eyes peer out from behind the mask, a slight awkwardness to his gaze that seems to lessen with the hunger of your stare. The contrast between the vibrant green and the warmth of his gaze draws you in like a moth to a flame. The mask frames his face perfectly,  showcasing his strong jawline and the facial hair that clings to his skin.
"I feel dumb," he mutters, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. “Isn’t there a way you can just make it so that my face is out of frame?” 
The mask had been his idea, he didn’t want to be recognized—rightfully so— and since he still wanted to stream. . . he bought himself a mask. 
Too bad he doesn’t realize the effect it has on you. Only if he could feel how wet you were for him, that’ll surely put him in a better mood. 
“Not really, we are going to be moving after all,” you answer. His gaze drops. “Joel, you look devastatingly hot right now.” 
His ears perk at that, eyes lifting to meet yours instantly. “Really?” 
"Come here," you manage to murmur, your voice laced with a mix of playfulness and longing. He obeys without hesitation, closing the distance between you in a matter of heartbeats. His hand reaches out, fingers curling beneath your chin as he tilts your head up. His eyes, those deep pools of honey, lock onto yours with an intensity that steals your breath away.
"Tell me," he whispers, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "What's on your mind?"
You swallow, your words catching in your throat for a moment before you manage to answer, your voice barely more than a breath. "You... the mask... everything. I can’t wait to feel you deep inside. Can’t wait for you to ruin me for everyone to see."
His lips curve into a smile, and he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he murmurs against your lips, "Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan on leavin’ an inch of you not clingin’ with my come, darlin’.” 
Oh, fuck. 
Fuck fuck fuck. 
Your lips part with a soft gasp and he slips his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly laps at his thumb, drawing circles, begging for him to press deeper. Heat radiates off of him, suffocating you in the best way possible. Your eyes drop to his crotch, the outline of his cock visible despite the dark blue denim.
Joel grins and shifts his hips closer, teasing you with a promise of more. You close your lips around his thumb and swallow. You’re in a trance. Body and soul bewitched by his presence. Your breasts feel full and heavy, nipples tingling. 
“Go and start the stream, honey.” 
Tingles. All you feel are tingles as you get up and desperately head toward your setup. Your legs are shaking. His eyes burning holes into your bare back. A second later his palm is on your ass, stroking the plump flesh and teasing the elastic of your panties. You sigh, the fabric sticking to your folds. 
With practiced efficiency, you start up the stream, the familiar hum of your equipment filling the room. Almost immediately, comments begin flooding in, your "hive" eagerly joining the live broadcast. The chat scrolls rapidly, filled with excited greetings and bee-themed emojis, a testament to the unique community you've cultivated.
"Hey there, my busy bees!" you greet, your voice filled with enthusiasm. "I hope you're all buzzing with excitement, because tonight we've got a special guest joining us."
You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker to the monitor. There he is, Joel, standing just behind you, his presence towering and captivating even though his head isn't visible on screen. The comments explode with excitement, the chat inundated with messages about how good he looks, how lucky you are, and playful exclamations about your "hunk of a guest” and how they can’t wait for him to “pump you full of his come”. A bit crass, but you can’t say you disagree. 
You continue, "But first, let's give a warm welcome to our newbies! Welcome to the hive, where we celebrate all things sweet and sticky." you wink at the camera and bend slightly over, wiggling your ass. Joel doesn’t waste any time moving directly behind you, hands on your waist as he pushes forward, making you feel the heft of his cock between your cheeks. A small moan escapes you, breasts swaying with his shallow grinds. 
“And now, without further ado,” you say breathless. “Let’s start the show. Our guest is an impatient one,” you hear Joel scoff behind you, the voice making your pussy bottom out. “Am I wrong, sir?” 
His nails bite into your flesh, showing you just how much he enjoys being called that. You smile as you stand up, giving one last look to the monitor to check everything is in place, you face Joel. You lean closer for a kiss, hoping that it’ll soothe his nerves. He must be nervous. 
But before you can close the distance, he grabs your chin and pushes you back, just proving how wrong you are. Your eyes widen, the pressure he applies to hallow your cheeks emptying the oxygen in your lungs. “Not so fast,” he grunts. “On your knees, honey. Only good girls get kisses.” 
Your insides pulse with a vicious throb. His voice takes on a tone you've never quite heard before. It's deep, a resonant rumble that seems to vibrate through the very core of your being. His voice, deep and resonant, like thunder during a storm and wraps around you like a velvet cloak, warming you. As you slowly sink to your knees, your pulse quickens in response. 
A desperate, hushed rustling fills the room as a zipper is lowered and briefly, you steal a quick glance at the streaming setup, ensuring that everything continues to run smoothly. Joel’s head is still out of view, which you regret because you want everyone to see how good he looks in his mask—
His touch is a sudden and deliberate pull, “Eyes on me,” he growls, the bulbous head of his cock pressing against your lips. His fingers are wrapped around his impressive length, and instead of notching the head between your lips, he smacks your parted lips with it. A drop of precome stains your bottom lip, a string of it following the tip as he holds it above your face. Your eyes are glued to the masked figure above you. Despite the tone and the roughness, they’re just pools of soft honey, internally searching your face for any discomfort. 
Joel begins to stroke himself and with a heavy gaze, you part your lips wider and stick your tongue out for him to use you however he pleases. 
His dark chuckle makes your skin prickle with need. You come closer, dragging your tongue between his balls, nuzzling him sweetly. Joel curses above you and grips your shoulder, holding you back. 
“Sir, please,” you gasp, attempting to get close but his hand keeps you at a small distance. 
He doesn’t acknowledge your pleas, “Push those pretty tits together, sweetheart.” 
Desperate and dripping, you press them together with your arms. His cock comes from under, the head piercing your tits as it pushes from between them. Joel hooks his thumb in your mouth and you obediently suck around the digit as he begins to thrust. Neither of you breaks eye contact. 
Joel pushes himself further into you, driving his hips forward. His cock slides between your tits, filling your already open mouth with vigor as he rocks in and out of your ample cleavage. You moan around his thumb, the warmth of his precum dripping over your tongue. 
Your body rocks with each stroke, the pleasure radiating through your chest with each thrust. Your nipples throb with arousal, hard like diamonds, as he slams his rigid cock into your tits. Sweat beads on his forehead and he grits his teeth, “Keep them together,” he grunts as he pulls out, with the head, he smears drops of himself over your heated skin. 
Your eyes roll back at how possessive it is, the fact that everyone is watching already forgotten. “Good,” he says, pleased. He pulls away his thumb and drags it over your bottom lip. “You’re already so dumb for my cock, aren’t you. Eager to show your viewers how badly you want to be good for me hmm?” 
God, the tremors in his voice, that southern drawl. He’s going to be the death of you. 
“Y-Yeah,” you pant, chest heaving. Ignoring the ache it causes in the back of your neck, you lean forward and manage to taste him on your skin. You moan as your eyes flutter closed, your own breath warm against you. “Want to be your good girl again, sir.” 
He pulls away from you completely, heading towards the bed. You stare at him blearily as he takes a seat, only coming to your senses when he hits his thigh, gesturing you to come over.  
Just as you’re about to sit, he stops you, clicking his tongue while lifting a hand. “First strip, darlin’. Turn to the camera,” you don’t miss the way he smiles as you turn on shaky legs, staring directly into the lens. “Have you already forgotten how to stream? My poor sweet dumb girl.” 
His words send you into a haze of submission. Needles stinging your back, you peel off your panties and bra, dropping them to the floor. “Good,” he hums. “Now sit on my lap, spread those legs so they can see how wet you got just from gettin’ her tits fucked.” 
Joel scoots further back and gives you space on the bed to place your feet. With heavy lids, you spread yourself for him—and the people who’re watching at home. Your front facing the camera. To expose yourself in such a way, it’s different compared to what you normally do. You have fun with Dieter but it’s never like this, never as intense. A shaky breath escapes you when Joel places a hand on the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs further apart. He’s staring at you through the monitor, jaw slack. Meanwhile, you’re just happy people can see his mask, those brown eyes. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mutters, his role forgotten. “Look at you. Fuck,” his lips touch your ear, whispering the rest of the words so it’s only you that can hear. “You never stopped bein’ my good girl. Just sayin’.” 
Your vision blurs with tears and you nod, his lips now on your cheek. He drags his mouth to your forehead and lays another kiss. “Now let’s give them a show.” 
Joel cups your ass as he helps you lift yourself, aligning himself against your sopping core, he slowly lowers you, filling you inch by inch. Your head falls back, mouth agape, you’ve forgotten how big he is, how satisfying it is to take him so slowly. His breath is hot on your nape. “That’s it,” he purrs. “Just like that, show them how good you take cock, honey.” 
 “‘S big,” you slur. “S–So big, sir.” 
He shushes you, lips moving over your cheek. “I know, honey I know,” he licks the salt off your skin. “But you’re my good girl, aren’t you? You can take it.” 
Joel rears up, slowly pushing himself into you. His hands guide your hips to the right angle to let him slide deeper, your soft cries echoing through the air. 
“I am,” you gasp, delirious, his cock completely sheathed inside. “I am. I–I’m your good girl.” 
You twist around, straddling Joel as he takes both your hands and draws you close. His lips crash against yours, and you moan into his mouth as you grind your hips against him. Heaven help you, how can you take him like this with an audience? Images of all the people watching on your live stream dance in your mind, but it makes it all the hotter.
Your body rocks up and down as you ride him, your inner walls clenching around him. You’re panting and moaning, your body shaking as you pump harder.  You feel Joel shift beneath you, his grip tightening as you take him even deeper, arching your back and pushing your breasts out. You can feel his eyes on you, as well as the eyes of the viewers watching you live stream. His cock glistens with your slick, every time you lift yourself, the light catches against it, everyone watching seeing how worked up Joel gets you. 
You can feel Joel's warmth radiating throughout your body as he slides back and forth, gaining momentum as he thrusts harder. You stifle a moan, your eyes fluttering as pleasure overcomes you, your head humming with pleasure. Your body starts to slow, your muscles aching and trembling. 
Suddenly Joel grips your waist, fingertips leaving dents in your flesh. He growls in your ear, drops of spit hitting your neck. “Who told you to slow down?” he pulls your body against him, forcing himself deeper into you. Every inch of you is shaking as Joel's hips slam against yours. His fingers find your clit, drawing gentle, quick circles around the sensitive nub. You cry out, clenching around him. “Look into the camera,” he groans. “Want them to see your fucked out gaze when I make you squirt.” 
Your hands find purchase above his knees, the coil in your stomach tight, it’s too much. Too fucking much. Your head is swimming in a lavender haze, and before you know it, your cunt is pulsing around him, gushing and slowing his thrusts. You hear the faint pitter patters of a rain-like sound. 
You barely register the liquid spraying from you, your body hot and burning while Joel’s fingers continue to move. Your drip down his length and down the inside of his thighs, and he rips another, albeit calmer, orgasm from you.  
“Shiiiiiit,” he drawls. “Shit shit, honey, fuck, don’t move—” he makes a choked-out sound and spears you down flush on his cock. The sounds you make are completely debauched. A series of sir’s dropping from your lips, tongue aching to moan his name. You feel him spilling inside, so much, you think, so much of it filling you up. He’s still throbbing when he pulls out, gripping himself and ringing the last of it over your glistening cunt, drowning it in come. 
“Oh fuck,” you murmur as he pushes it back in with the head of his length, you shudder around him. “So full,” you say, eyes dropping where you two connect through the reflection in the monitor. 
“Not done,” he mutters and helps you lift yourself over him, cock slowly softening. “Push it out darlin’. Show them how much there is to keep you satisfied.” 
“F-Fuck,” you let out a whimper, eyelids fluttering as his seed trickles out of you and drips over his length. You feel faint of heart, this probably being one of the filthiest things you’ve done on camera. 
“Good girl,” he says, eyes glued to the camera. “My good girl,” he repeats, cupping your mound and slipping one finger inside with ease. 
Joel gently lays you down on the bed, your body too weak to do anything. He walks up to the stream set up, his eyes flashing toward the camera one last time. “See y’all next time.” he taunts before shutting the entire thing off. 
He throws the mask to the ground near your discarded clothes. 
You don’t know what to think when he climbs onto the bed, mattress dipping with his weight before he pulls you to his chest. He kisses you slowly, taking his time as he tastes you. “Sorry,” he whispers into your mouth. “I think I might’ve gone overboard.” 
“No,” you sigh dreamily, still in a haze. “That was perfect. I—I don’t think I can walk for a while.” 
You let out a low chuckle and he smiles, pressing his lips into your forehead. 
“Well, good thing I’m here then.”  
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xiaoseminence · 1 year
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I’m not sure if you do these but
An imposter!sagau with a creator (gn??)who just keeps resurrecting when they die, like their body disintegrates and reforms in the same spot like a minute later
Anyway Zhongli’s reaction to killing the creator, then watching their golden blood spill everywhere and realise with horror what he did
Only for creator to resurrect not even five minutes later, but with massive obvious trust issues (and Zhongli’s subsequent extreme guilt)
It’s a guilt fic im asking you to write a guilt fic
𓆩♡𓆪 Divine Retribution 𓆩♡𓆪 (Genshin SAGAU Scenario) (Imposter AU!)
Summary ➵✬ Mislead by a false idol, Rex Lapis commits the ultimate act of heresy. It’s only when the blood of the real creator stains his hands a golden color that he realizes what he just did. 
Warnings ➵✬ Heavy Yandere, Mild depictions of blood/violence, Worship/Religious practices, Dark Topics, Depictions of emotional distress, Reader dies but not really
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Despite how much your legs ached and your lungs seemed about ready to combust, you were slowly but surely starting to realize that you’d never be able to outrun him. If anything, it was as if he was toying with you, his disembodied voice whispering fury filled words into your ears as tears streamed down your face. 
“Sinner, Miscreant! You vile creature will meet your justice at my hands today”
You never asked for any of this. The initial excitement of discovering you’d awoken in the world of your favorite game, surrounded by the many characters you’d grown to know and love, soon turned into icy fear once you saw the look in their eyes. From the very first moment any of them met you, they looked at you with such disdain and malice, they’d curse at you, call you “Imposter” or “Monster”, and chase you away. So far you managed to outrun them all, hiding in the rural regions of Liyue without showing your face to a single soul. But as soon as he was informed about your existence, your life was running on limited time. 
“Their eminence will be delighted to see your head on a stake, hung above the walls of their palace. Demons like you should know that only death awaits you in the land of the creator”
A loud cry erupted from your throat as you felt a piercing pain in one of your legs. One look back revealed a golden spear embedded deeply in your flesh. Although you tried to keep running, it resulted only in a pathetic limp before you collapsed to the ground shortly after. The black cloak you had grown accustomed to wearing hid your form from the archon that was drawing closer and closer to your shivering body. The countless scrapes and bruises that covered you from head to toe after running for such a long time felt more painful than ever before. The golden blood flowing through your veins ever since you first came to this world was absorbed by the dark cloth, remaining as nothing but a barely visible stain. 
His steps were slow and silent as he lazily stalked up to you. To him, you were wounded prey - and he was the predator about to devour you whole. Finally stepping in front of you, his gloved hands reached out to harshly grab your chin, forcing you to look straight into his amber colored eyes that were burning with resentment. 
“It seems as though the little pest has finally been caught in the trap. Speak, Rat. Dare you defend your actions of besmirching the divine creator’s name with your hideous attempt to copy their form?” 
He always seemed like such a grounded and wise character, yet as you were met with his perfect features pulled into a dangerous snarl, it was difficult to believe that this was the same person. An involuntary whine spilled past your lips as his grip on your jaw grew stronger to the point that you thought your skull would break apart. 
“I don’t know what crime you keep accusing me of. I never hurt anyone!”, it came out as a desperate plea for mercy, yet something inside you told you that it didn’t matter whether you were to beg on your knees or spit in his face - the archon of geo remained as unmoving in his resolve to kill you as mountain, ever unfazed by its surroundings. 
“Pathetic.” - He all but growled this word as his eyes seemed to grow as hard as gold. Before you could even realize what was happening, a harsh push had your back painfully colliding with the muddy ground below. The tip of his golden spear dematerialized from its place embedded in your thigh, instead appearing only inches from your (e/c) eyes. You were scared to blink, even scared to breathe - in fear that the spear would come crashing down on you before you knew it. Your face - the face that everyone seemed to resent you for - was staring right at the archon who would be your killer. 
For only a fraction of a moment, his amber eyes seemed to soften, their color appearing gentle and warm like molten pools of caramel. Yet this moment was soon over, as an even harsher scowl appeared on his features. 
“How dare you? You really thought you’d be able to fool their grace’s most devoted worshiper?”, he hissed, as if it was somehow your fault that you looked similar to the deity they revered. 
“You don’t deserve to utter any last words”
Before your mouth could open to let out one last defiant scream, before your muscles could contract and roll you to the side, away from danger, a sharp pain shot through your forehead - all but seeming to split your head in half as the spear found its place in your skull. The last thing your tired eyes noticed was a single splatter of shimmering, golden blood - before finally… your vision faded to black. 
In all his years of seeing war, bloodshed, famine and death, the archon of Liyue never once faltered in his conviction toward his creator. Even after losing those who held close to his heart, his faith gave him the strength to carry onward - his body seemingly fueled only by sheer devotion. Yet in this very moment, as a single splatter of golden blood hit his face, he never felt more pathetic. Not a single muscle in his form dared to even so much as twitch, as the only feeling aside from his own heartbeat thundering painfully in his chest was the warm liquid sliding down his cheek. It seared him, felt so hot against his skin that he was sure it was a warning of what hellfire would await him after what he had done. 
“I- Your grace?”, his words were barely above a whimper, hand outstretched as if to touch them, assure himself that he hadn’t done what he feared he had. Although he tried to convince himself that he must be mistaken, the endlessly empty feeling in his chest confirmed what he deep down already knew to be true. He had killed them. 
ɢᴏᴅꜱʟᴀʏᴇʀ - ʜᴇʀᴇᴛɪᴄ - ᴅɪꜱꜱᴇɴᴛᴇʀ
The words kept repeating themselves endlessly in his mind. With a broken sob his knees gave out under him, allowing his body to fall onto the cold ground. He felt like he was burning from the inside, hellfire coursing through his veins, yet his shaking hands still reached out for his creator’s limp body. His gloves had long since been discarded, thrown aside and forgotten in the damp grass. “What a fool I am, your grace. What hubris led me to believe that I could be your most devoted servant, the one to lay the world at your feet when in the end… it was I who fell for a false idol?” 
He wanted to cradle his deity in his arms, let the tears that spilled from his eyes wash away his sins and their blood. His face felt tainted, dirty - sullied with the blood of his one and only god. Blood that he had spilled. When his hands should have touched the body lying motionless on the ground, he was met with nothing but shimmering dust. The creator had disappeared. 
It mattered little to Rex Lapis what would become of this world, of the inhabitants of Liyue and all those he swore to protect. Nothing in this world would ever matter again without the gentle guidance of the creator. 
“Please, I beg you! Please punish me! I deserve a punishment worse than death”- He bowed down so deeply that he could feel the cool ground against his face. He was ready to beg and atone for as long as it took for you to punish him. He would accept anything, anything at all - but he couldn’t live knowing he’d been abandoned by you. A life without your presence was a greater torture to him than his mind could even fathom - if you stayed gone… he would break apart. 
“Please… come back”, he had yelled and cried to the point his lungs started to hurt, and by now his voice was nothing above a raspy whisper. What a pathetic shadow of himself the archon had become. 
You often wondered what the afterlife would be like. Would you end up waking up in yet another game world? Or… would dying perhaps give you a chance to go back home? Home, where you belonged and many friendly souls were waiting for you, people who wouldn’t curse and spit at you, forcing you to go into hiding for so long. Yet death did not come to you as easily as you expected, as when you opened your eyes again…
A cloud of shimmering golden dust was surrounding you like a cocoon. When it all at once burst open, you were met with a rather startling sight. Before you knelt Rex Lapis - or Zhongli as you’d first come to know him in the game. Yet to your surprise, nothing seemed to remain of the unshakable mountain he appeared as before. He was shivering, near silent sobs racking his body uncontrollably. 
The slight golden shimmer in his peripheral vision made him freeze. His teary eyes raised themselves at a snail’s pace - too scared was he that it was a mere illusion of his desperate mind. Yet when he met your mortified gaze, he couldn’t help but cry out in relief. 
“Your grace! I will repent! Whatever you want, for however long you see fit-”, the male practically flung himself at your feet, hands grasping all too eagerly at your stiff legs. His touch was gentle, but you knew it would be impossible to get him to let you go if he saw it fit to hold you in place. He was looking up at you with such… passion? It felt as though you could see right through his eyes, into a burning fire of devotion. This was far different to how anyone ever looked at you before in this world. They tended to gaze at you with either disdain or a twisted kind of pity that made you feel sick to your stomach. It scared you far more than if he had been angry, swinging at you with that spear of his. 
“L-let me go! Don’t touch me!”, you frantically cried out, moving backwards so quickly that you fell over.
His expression immediately fell, an almost empty look replacing his formerly so fiery expression. 
“I understand, your grace”, his breath shuddered as he instantly let you go, hands retracting so fast, it seemed as though your skin had burned him. 
“I will prove my worth to you. Command me as you wish. No matter what you order me to do, who you want me to kill. If you want me to mutilate and torture myself I will be happy to do so, I’d burn all of Liyue down in a heartbeat if you so desired -  if only to cleanse myself of the sin I have committed” 
His fervent, desperate devotion was far more terrifying than his wrath could ever be.  Word count ➵✬ 1850 Note ➵✬ Thank you for my very first request
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6K notes · View notes
hillbillyoracle · 3 months
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You Should Get A Radio
I want to convince you to get a radio. It can be a pretty cheap one - you can sometimes thrift them even - just something to listen to the music and shows that are literally streaming completely for free all around you right this very moment.
Libraries get a lot of love - deservedly so. They are such a frugal resource for entertainment and the community at large. I would argue that radio is very similar.
Find New Music
Radio can introduce you to music you never would have run across otherwise. Spotify and the like have a goal of getting you to listen for as long as possible. This incentivizes the alorgithm picking your music recs to stay very safely within your known listening profile. But since a radio station is broadcasting to a large number of people, not you individually, you're more likely to run into music you personally wouldn't have picked but actually enjoy.
Not to mention that if you're in the US at least, you're very likely within range of a public broadcasting station which not only has local and national news, but various music shows as well - World Cafe is a treasure. College radio stations, if you have one nearby by, can be hit or miss, but in general, it is a great way to find local and very niche music you wouldn't hear played anywhere else. If you're in a city, you very likely have a couple of hyperlocal low power FM stations - many who serve communities who don't speak English and who have their own unique music programming. I also enjoy a lot of the adult contemporary and "oldies" stations I can get near me.
The Ads Aren't Targeted
On most stations, you'll hear some ads. Some stations you'll hear more than a few. But none of those ads are based on an ever growing mass of information being collected about you and your listening habits to decide what specific ad you're most likely to actually act on. They're just...an ad. When you turn it off, it can't follow you around until you actually buy it.
Also, if you're listening to local stations, a lot of the ads are for local businesses in your community; places owned by your neighbors and the people you live with. For me, it's been a nice way to be reminded of what places exist in my community since I usually go to my regular haunts and nothing else.
Frugal and Fun
Radios can be pretty cheap. I see them in thrift stores pretty regularly around here and you might be able to try Marketplace for one. Mine was a birthday gift and I paid a little more to upgrade the antena later. Mine uses rechargeable batteries but I think they make ones that are just straight up rechargeable now.
Since I can't control the music, I'm not turning to it to skip through music or pick a different playlist or look up a given artist I want to hear because I just remembered they existed. I'm more present, whether I'm just listening to the show or pairing it with something else (recently it's been knitting or solitaire games).
Similar to the way that libraries can be one way you decrease your reliance on subscription culture, radio is another. Especially for public broadcasting stations, the programming is always changing, there are new shows every week, and there are often ways for you to get involved. It's another form of entertainment that often gets overlooked.
It's Screen Free
Not much to say here. It's just a big plus to me. I'm trying to take more breaks from screens and make the time I do spend on screens less addictive. I like that I can throw on a radio station and listen to a show without ever having to resist the urge to check email or something.
Vital in Emergencies
Have you thought of how you'd get information during an emergency if the internet goes out? Radio is a great option and still regularly saves lives. In the event of emergencies, local radio stations are often some of the very first people to get information on where shelters are being set up, where resoruces are being distributed, and how to stay safe through the course of the event. Depending on the event, emergency managers will actually bring in radio equipment to keep broadcasting going if there's been damage to a tower and even set up temporary/mobile station up to get the word out if there's not a local station they can partner with.
On days when the weather isn't looking so great, I often have the weather band radio turned on so I can get the latest NWS forecasts and hear when a watch is issued - phones usually only get warnings unless you go out of your way to sign up for more. And out where I live, I usually don't even get those since cell signal is spotty.
It's a great investment in your safety that you can also enjoy whenever.
Conclusion
Buy a radio. Especially if you're looking to get away from subscriptions and cut costs. You can own your radio - you can't own Spotify. It's also just something I think everyone should have since it's such a vital resource in emergencies.
ETA: I am a young millinial. I grew up with radio and remember a time before the internet so I'm not saying any of this as if I'm discovering it. It's more I've been not only enjoying it a lot lately but reminded that a lot of people aren't aware of everything it offers so I wanted to share that in case it was news to anyone.
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s-4pphics · 4 months
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click!: in frame. 1 (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: you crave redemption more than love. [idk au]
WORD COUNT: 7.7k
WARNINGS: professionalphotographer!ellie, strugglingartist!oc who’s black, ANGST!!, loss and unhealthy grieving, papa issues, verbally abusive parent(PLEASE TREAD LIGHTLY), depictions of therapy and counseling, light discussion of anger management, brief mention of alcohol, bullying, a lil fluff, SMUT!! YIPPEE MDNI, bondage, squirting, bathroom sex, eating out no taqueria, ellie getting sloppy from a hot milf that’s it 
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You look like your mom. 
Your father’s admiring whisper yanks you out of the hazy turbulence in your mind. You shovel a handful of caramel popcorn in your mouth. You don’t dare look at him. 
Daughter things, I guess. Your dad simply hums. Silence simmers between the two of you. It’s not comforting. Not like it should be. A bomb is coming. 
Honey, I… I love you. Your father sounds like he's crying and it pauses your aggressive chewing. You finally turn to face him and your fingers twitch when you see his globby tears. They’re heavy as he releases his regrets in silence, just like he always does during this time of year. 
Me, too, dad. 
You’re not sure if you’re lying or not. Some things are impossible to forget, you suppose. 
You eat more popcorn with a permanently damaged heart. 
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FOUR YEARS LATER
FIRST DAY WITH DOCTOR BROWN. 
“Some people believe that any form of assistance is… insulting. Whether it be to them as people or… specific traits that they hold that others may find unfamiliar or unsettling. I’m not here to judge or anything of that nature. Just here to help you figure out why specific aspects of your life affect you the way they do.” 
Your arms cross over your chest. Dr. Brown realizes you’re not taking the bait, so she attempts to get you more comfortable. “I think icebreakers could help ease some of the tension. So… What’s your favorit— “
“My dad died last year.” 
Your statement makes her freeze, her smile melting off her face, eyes shifting across her face. She adjusts some papers on her clipboard and clicks her pen. “Alright, hun,” Her gentle tone makes your stomach twist. “Let’s talk about it. What was the relationship with your dad like?” You simply shrug. 
Dr. Brown nods and tries again. “Were you and him close? Your notes say you and your mother were inseparable, just like me and mine.” 
Your nails sink into your cuticles and tears burn in your eyes, “I… I wanted to be. Close.” You whisper. “He wasn’t around like that, though.” 
She scribbles and solemnly nods, “Did he work often?” Your head bobs and droplets stream down your cheeks. 
“I didn’t think I’d care that he died… He was never around growing up, so… like, whatever.” You grumble lamely.
“What did losing him feel like?” 
The end of your mouth curls downward, the familiar searing you’ve grown to loathe, “Like… the world was burnin’.” 
“Elaborate.” She pries softly. 
Another bounce from your shoulders. You readjust in your seat. “I wasn’t even sad. Just…” You trail off, fingers twitching under your arm. 
“Angry. I was angry all the time.” You rush out quietly, face burning with shame. “Just like he was.” You pause when your breath shakes, “I wish I got some of my mom’s traits. My dad’n I are just alike.” You fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater. 
“… You’re not like him— “
“I am— “
“You’re not. You’re trying to put in effort to be better for the future. Could he have said the same?” She’s stern when she speaks.
You’re stumped. You wipe your tears harshly. For the first time, you're at a loss for words. 
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WEEK TWO WITH DOCTOR BROWN. 
“Think about the first time you saw your dad lash out. You can elaborate on how you felt, how you reacted, how your environment changed… Anything you feel comfortable sharing.” Your eyes stay glued to your therapist’s couch as you recall the day. Every detail and foul verbiage he directed towards your mother resurfaces and falls at your sock-covered feet. 
It was the morning of your first day of second grade. Your mother spent the entire morning hot-combing your hair, bumping your ends, littering your locks that were bound to recoil in seconds in bobbles and clips. She could tell by your expression that you didn’t like it, but she completed your bright pink outfit with it’s not for you, it’s for me! Sit still!  She never failed to live vicariously through you; Every childhood moment she couldn’t live out was now yours. 
Your father wasn’t around much. He was a truck-driver, on a constant voyage to wherever he was instructed to go, hundreds to thousands of miles away from solace for months — sometimes years at a time. He missed birthdays, holidays, family reunions; There was always a missing space for him somewhere in your childhood home, whether it be his customized keychain that he forgot, shoes he didn’t pack, a hug he didn’t give. Proof of him was always scattered around somewhere, but he was a shadow. A blank memory. 
So, why were your cartoons interrupted by his booming voice in the kitchen? 
You remember turning the television down, only by a couple digits, your ears honing in on every word he screamed at your mother. You were so confused. Half of those words you’d never heard before. Why was he so mad this early in the morning? 
You knew it was serious when your mother retaliated just as loudly, the cracks and shrieks from her belts sounding alarms in your brain. Your mom’s in trouble! Help her! But how could you? You were defenseless against him. It felt like the day flew by as their aggression intensified, curses nearly shattering the glass of your backyard door before everything went quiet. 
But still, your feet carried you to peek behind the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. Your attempts at being discreet were pointless, though. When you saw your mother pinned up against the counter by your father, tears streaming down her face as he spat with every whisper onto her cheek, you gasped. Your memory is washy after that, but you remember your mother wiping her tears and slapping that comforting grin on her face. You wish you didn’t remember how broken she sounded when she said alright, baby! Ready for school? Don’t wanna be late! 
You suffered through social studies, language arts, and math. Your mind wasn’t where it should’ve been; You couldn’t shake the fact that your mother could be hurt and she had no one to tell. You just prayed to yourself as your teacher spoke, hoping that your mom would be on time to pick you up at the end of the day. 
Your eyes travel over the teal incisions of thread on your therapist’s seat. You’re still not used to the sound of your own voice. “It’s… it’s a funny story…” You sound so weak. You retell what you can, all while following the tip of your therapist’s scribbling pen. 
Why did it have to be green? Why are the clicks deafening? 
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“Ellie, holy fucking — shit, these look fucking incredible!” Yuki whispers, expression impressed as she snoops over the auburn-haired girl’s shoulder, inspecting the aerial shots she’d taken a few hours ago. Editing is a bitch. “I don’t know how you do it. You’re…” 
“A genius, I know,” Ellie says dryly, a soft grin hidden behind the hand that holds her head up. It’s almost eleven. “M’almost done— “
“Nope! Not happening!” Another voice exclaims from the black lounge chair on the opposite side of the room. “You’re not the one that has to lock up every goddamn night! I ain’t stayin’ here ‘til two again! You got two seconds to finish up before I drag you up outta here.” 
Yuki giggles at Saliyah’s scolding, and Ellie sighs. The pictures look almost perfect. Almost. They’re not there yet! All she needs is an hour… or three—
“What did I say! —“
“Alright, alright, fuck.” Ellie shakes her head before closing all her tabs, pulling her flash drive out of the PC before shutting it down. She stands from her rolling chair and snags her blazer from over the back of it, throwing it over her shoulders and grabbing her work bag, camera already securely inside. She shoves the drive in a random pocket before stretching. 
The two girls already have all of their belongings in hand, more than ready to clock the fuck out. Yuki eyes her slyly, sarcasm dripping from her tone, “Oh, wooow, she’s actually taking orders, now? Listening to instructions for the first time? —“
“Can you stop.” Ellie mutters as she follows the girls descending the stairs. “No!” They both say in unison. Ellie smiles. Does she really stay out that often? There’s no way she’s that stubborn. 
All three girls crack jokes as they vacant the building, ensuring all the lights and equipment are shut off and prepped for tomorrow. It’s an early day. 
“Alright, bitches!” Yuki screams into the darkness, bag swinging as her heels click-clack on the pavement. “I want you bright and bushy-tailed tomorrow! Busy day! No time to fuck arou— “ 
Saliyah yawns, eyes droopy, “Girl… fuck you.” Ellie cackles and rubs her tired eyes. She can’t wait to get these six hours in. And see her baby. Saliyah wraps her arms around Ellie’s neck, muttering see you tomorrow, stinker into her neck. Ellie hums and holds her before watching her get into her vehicle. 
Ellie does the same after both girls leave the parking lot, her head falling back onto the headrest, eyes shutting in exhaustion. Today was insane… Fuck, it was incredible. She's always accepted opportunities to take photos in nature. Landscapes are her prestige, but when she got the offer to take aerial shots of the ocean, she couldn’t say no. Just when she thought she’d never get on an aircraft out of fear…  
The shots were mystical, the monsoon winds carrying the waves in all directions as the foams ripple, a scene straight out of her dreams. The second she got off the helicopter, she got to editing. Staying in late to perfect her captures has become a terrible habit, but what can she say? She loves her job. Thank God her coworkers are as sweet as cherry pie and support her bad habit. Besides tonight, apparently. 
Days like this keep Ellie humbled… Most times. She deserves to boast every once in a while. She often thinks back on her college days, how out of touch chances like these seemed. The number of times she was brushed off by respected professionals because she lacked “necessary resources” was astronomical. But look at her now. She had everything she could ever want: a career she’s passionate about, healthy friendships, and the means to take care of her father. 
Well… she has most things. 
She sighs and starts her vehicle, the diamonds in her Rolex sparkling under the street lights beaming in from the window. The streets are calm. Not normally bustling like they would on a regular day. The clouds are coming in; Rain is due. She’s so excited. 
It’s a calm drive back to her small home. She pulls into the driveway and exits with all her supplies, unlocking and entering her place of peace. 
Meow! Meow! 
Ellie clicks her tongue at Pickle, “Hiii, mama. I’m home.” She drops her bag on the small couch near the front door, bending down to pick her up. “You’re heavy, fuck.” The baby purrs and nuzzles into her neck as they enter the kitchen. She sets her down on the counter and opens the fridge for water. There’s soft scuffling from behind her as she sips. 
Ellie turns to see Pickle playing with a pen, rolling it across granite. She swallows her last gulp before sighing, picking up the utensil, the one memory she kept of you. Your colorful fucking custom ballpoint pen. Pickle nibbles her fingers, trying to snatch it back to play with, but Ellie clicks it over and over. 
“Miss her? Yeah?” She whispers. Pickle licks her index. Ellie will never admit it, but she thinks about you whenever she sees her baby. Yours, too.
She hopes you’re alright.
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“You said that going to his funeral was different from your mom’s. Do you mind elaborating?” 
You shrug and scoff. “Shouldn’t everybody feel sad when they parents die?” Dr. Brown mimics you, “Not at all. Every reaction to loss is different and not all reactions are symmetrical.” 
“I was angry.” Your statement is blunt and abrasive. 
“Expound.” 
“I wanted to dig him up and spit on him my damn self.” You say, sharp as razor blades. Brown hums, unfazed by your sudden aggression; What the hell do therapists write on those clipboards? “I just… Seein’ all these fuckers I didn’t know talk about how fuckin’… great he was and how missed he’ll be was fuckin’ infuriating. They don’t know shit about that man or the shit he’s done.” 
Sympathy washes over Dr. Brown’s pupils. “See, your temper is the reason you’re here. You’re not obligated to forgive anybody that wronged you, but…” She’s simultaneously stern and empathic, “You do not get to use those emotions to inflict negativity onto the people around you. You’re perpetuating the same harm you wanted to avoid in the first place.”  
You instantly know what she’s referring to and guilt radiates all the way down to your toes. Amaya… Oh, you miss her. Another good person caught in your violent crossfire. Your last conversation was vile, and you hate yourself every day for the things you said to the only person who unconditionally cared about your wellbeing. Tears brew in your ducts, but you blink them away. 
“I didn’t… know what to do…” You didn’t, so you screamed and shouted and told her to never call your fucking phone again. The last thing you berated was the final nail in the coffin for your relationship. You left me, you’d said over and over until the line went dead. You left me alone! I fucking needed you! 
“No one has the answers for these types of situations. Why we react the way that we do to traumatic events will always be a mystery.” She adjusts in her chair, leg crossing over the other. “What I do know is that… you’re fighting grief. You’re choosing not to experience it, and it’s making you lash out on people who don’t deserve it.” 
But how does one grieve the person that made their life… unlivable? Through rage. Rage in its purest form: unfiltered, erratic, sizzling. It’s unrelenting and unforgiving and holds no bounds, prepared to be released at any moment, no matter who’s present. Your father’s home has seen it all at this point: glass shattering on walls, screaming into the closet where all his clothes hang, punching the pillow he slept on every night. 
Everything was exactly where your father left it, and instead of crying, you relinquished hell on the home he left in your name. You’re still surprised it wasn’t engulfed in flames after his funeral. 
“I just…” Harsh sniffles from you, desperately wiping your tears with damp hoodie sleeves, “I don’t know what to do. Nothing feels… real anymore.” 
“You’re real, baby.” This is the most delicate Dr. Brown has ever sounded, tone hushed. “Your feelings are real, your pain is real, but so is everyone else’s. You have to remember that.” 
You’re listening so intently, “What I'd suggest…” You already know what she’s going to say, and you’re petrified. You sag into your seat. 
You owe those two girls an apology.
Flashes of green race across your memory. The meadows are back, and they’re haunting. 
“Three.” You whisper. 
“Hm?” 
“I owe…” A heavy exhale. “Three girls an apology.” 
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OCTOBER, 2013 
Ellie’s officially fifteen. She’d give anything to be home right now. 
She was so happy before she left that morning. Her dad woke her up with a heaping stack of iced chocolate chip pancakes that were the size of her head and happy birthday candles. Laughter echoed through their household, following as they cascaded down the stairs to blast music. Neighbors be damned. Everything was perfect. Up until she was dressed and ready and in the car. 
Ellie’s dad held her hand the entire drive. He didn’t comment on her white knuckles as she gripped his digits when he kissed the back of her hand. It took her a second to exit the car when they arrived, so he said the usual. You got this, kiddo. The extra encouragement provided a boost, for sure. She was able to get to class on time. 
Every time a wad of paper or a sharpened pencil hits the back of her head, she regrets not begging her dad to let her stay home. She’s grown used to the snickers, the shoulder chucks in the hallway, but it doesn’t hurt any less.
English concludes and she’s silently packing when her bag gets yanked out of her hand. 
Missed you, stalker, A kid who Ellie doesn’t fucking remember snarks with a dark grin. Where’s that book you always have—
Tyler! The teacher’s voice booms, the class filling with oooh’s, That's enough. Give her stuff back now. 
C’mooon, I can’t talk to my girlfriend? The remaining students burst into laughter and Ellie’s face burns, swallowing the lump that’s forming in her throat. 
How about I call home? Tyler sucks his teeth at the threat while his friends laugh, dropping Ellie’s things on her desk with little care. She wastes no time to flee, shoving her earpods in and synching each trembling breath with the heavy percussion. 
Her dad comes to pick her up an hour later. 
-
-
A light tap on your shoulder tears your attention away from the lengthy equations on the board. Numbers and letters? Your fucking ass; Absolutely not!
You turn to Amaya, who’s smiling wide, shoving a folded note in your hand, rushing you to open it. Your brows crease as you face forward, unraveling the nest crevices and met with… hearts? Glitter? Pretty penmanship? No man wrote this, thank God. 
Hi. You’re really pretty and nice. Would you like to sit with me during lunch? 
Ceniyah 
… Ceniyah? … Thee Cece? The person you’ve been obsessed with since middle school? What the fuck is going on! 
You turn back to Amaya who’s giggling into her palm, catching glimpses of a shy Ceniyah, who keeps her head down, her beaded braids shielding her face. Your face burns and you jerk back forward. It’s not a fucking prank, what the fuck, what the fuck—
Class drags like a bitch, but the bell finally rings, and everyone hustles, shoving books in their bags, running to the cafeteria. You refuse to move, though. Your iron is low and the person you’re in love with asked you to crunch on celery sticks with her. Alone. You're bound to pass out the second you breathe wrong. 
Hi.
You nearly fly out of your seat at her soft tone. She sounds like an angel. You’re going to die. You jump out of your chair and… take in the beauty that she is. She smells like heaven and her skin is perfect, not a blemish in sight. You hope she can’t see your acne scars… and she’s shorter than you. Are minors allowed to get married? 
H-Hey, You hold up the pink piece of construction paper, I, uh, got your note… It’s beautiful. Her smile shines brighter than the sun. She shakes her head and the chains locked on her clips tinker like fairies. 
Are you kiddin’ me! That mural you helped create was crazy. That was beautiful. 
I love you. 
Your eyes go wide. Did you say that? You don’t think you said that… Her smile turns confused and you realize you said that. You almost stab yourself with your pencil. I mean, like, I love how you appreciate art! Like, not m-many people… do that, and stuff…
She smirks and your heart squeezes with delight, And stuff? She inquires with an arched brow. 
I’d appreciate it if you ladies headed to lunch so I can enjoy mine. Your teacher interrupts, And the next note that gets passed earns a detention. 
A soft, floral-scented hand closes around your wrist, over your beaded bracelets and charms. You grab your bag with your last remaining strength and follow her like a puppy, her flowy skirt brushing against the bottoms of your jean-clad legs. 
Best… day… ever. 
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PRESENT 
Ellie needs to start doing finger stretches. Her hands are starting to hurt every time she clocks out. 
She’s sitting at her desk, re-editing the infant photos she took earlier today. The twin girls from earlier were absolute angels, smiling and cooing up at the camera behind their matching pink pacifiers. She's never thought about having children… ever, but it might not be so bad—
Meow! Meow, meow! MeowMEOW—
… Nevermind. Kids are not for her. She can barely get this one to act right. The pictures are cute, though. 
“What’s the matter, mama?” She coos down at a doe-eyed kit-kat. “Hungies?” Pickle jumps up and into her lap, staring at the bright screen that displays Ellie’s editing software. Ellie smirks down at her, “What, you wanna try?” 
Pickle blinks up at her. No thoughts, just kibble. 
She decides to save her progress on the photos and give her munchkin some love. The few minutes of head pats and runs are cut short when she gets a pop-up from her email. She pays it no mind at first, but she zeroes in on the subject with furrowed brows. It simply reads hi… an overdue apology. Ellie blinks a couple times before suspecting spam… But who the fuck names a spam email something that cryptic? What the fuck? 
Ellie opens it… and her body goes numb as her eyes follow each word. 
hi, ellie. i’m not sure how to start this off, but i hope it’s decent enough to sit through. i apologize in advance. 
you probably don’t remember me, but we had statistics and used to live together in college. it was only for two months (i think, kind of a blur) but… yeah. i hope it semi-kinda rings a bell. hi again.
this is a very random time to reach out, and i understand any confusion, but i just wanted to apologize for everything. i was terrible to you. i'd never thought i'd become a judgmental person, but i did. i mocked you, i spoke behind your back, and probably ruined your last year of school, and i carry that regret with me everywhere i go. i’m not sure if i'll ever be able to express my remorse properly. 
i’m trying to do better. i want to do better, but i can’t unless i express it. 
you never have to talk to me again, and i understand if you don’t, but if you ever want to have a conversation with me, i’d be more than willing to come wherever you are to do so. or we can exchange numbers if it’s less of a hassle. i see how busy you are. 
thank you if you took out any time to read this jumbled mess of thoughts. i’m very nervous. i hope you continue to live beautifully. 
sincerely, someone trying to start fresh. 
(p.s. i swear i'm not a stalker. you’re really popping on instagram. congratulations on everything.) 
Ellie wastes no time and unplugs her entire PC, the screen going black. Her heart is racing and water surfaces above her pupils. Pickle purrs in her arms as she backs her rolling chair from under the desk and scurries into her bedroom. She sets the kitty down on her bed and clutches her chest. She forgets to count, forgets to breathe as detailed images of you scatter in her head. 
You… what the fuck.
Ellie feels her hands start to shake, so she squeezes them in a fist as she paces. Her gasps are choked and she’s spiraling into panic; She can’t unsee your teary, brown eyes, how you tried to mask your sadness when she stated she was leaving. She was able to convince herself that she’d never see you again, and it took her so long to be okay with that. She’s grown to be okay without your presence.
The burnt trail she left behind has reignited again. She's sinking, drowning, just like she did years ago. 
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WEEK FIVE WITH DR. BROWN
“How do you feel now? Be honest.” 
“… Still shitty… but alright, I guess.” You’re hoarse when you speak. 
“Elaborate. What does alright mean for you?” 
You pick at your fingers, “I’m not… I don’t wanna, like, kill myself… if that’s what you’re asking. The ball’s in their court now, I guess. I’m… I’m just alright.” Your shoulders bounce in a shrug. 
“Has anyone answered?” Your head shakes in denial. “Don’t let that jeopardize your progress. However they react to you contacting them is not on you anymore. They either accept it or they don’t, and they’re valid in both options.” 
Dr. Brown pauses and eyes you skeptically, “What?” You ask. 
She shrugs, “One person isn’t on your making amends list.” 
Your reply is immediate, “Probably for a reason.” 
“Do you remember what you told me during our first meeting?” 
Irritation boils under your skin. “I see where you’re taking this conversation and I’m not messin’ wit’ it… Respectfully. Next topic, please.” 
Her hands raise in surrender, “Ay’, I’m not here to make you do diddly-squat. Merely providing perspective.” 
“Right.” 
“You did beat that girl to a pulp, though. I will say— “
“It’s what she deserved.” You say flatly. “She… humiliated me, and when her bitch left, she tried to come back to me. Get me pregnant— “
“Chile, I’m not tryna hear all that— “
You scoff and fall back in your seat, cushions and pillows molding with the curve of your spine. Dina bringing her happy ass to your father’s home after his death was one of the most infuriating experiences of your entire goddamn life. The second you opened the door, you were met with wildfire and permanently scarred. The least you could do is give her a fucking black eye. 
What you did after that… you’ll never regret. Ever. She can blast you on Twitter all she wants; She’s dead to you. 
Dr. Brown sips on her black tea with a pointed stare, “Yes, ma’am?” You say sarcastically. 
“Watch that tone,” That look in her eye… she meant that. You’ll be quiet. “She was wrong for what she did, but you ain’t innocent.” 
“I’m sorry, but I disagree. That one… she can choke. I don’t care.” Dr. Brown is disappointed by your answer, but frankly, you don’t care. That ship sailed and sank like the goddamn Titanic. 
She seems disappointed in your answer, but she lets it go. “… Alright, then.” 
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On the brink of a heart attack perfectly explains how Ellie’s been feeling for the past week. The number of times she’s reread your fucking email is genuinely embarrassing, but she’s weighing her options: she either blocks you or accepts your offer. She's never been so conflicted in her life. She desperately needs a fucking break. 
She never takes Saliyah and Yuki up on their offers to turn up on Friday nights, but her rampant emotions backed her into a corner… and now she’s tipsy on the dancefloor of some rinky-dink club. One night of release wouldn’t hurt. 
Ellie really wishes she had a grilled cheese. They’re quite delicious… Probably not the thoughts she should be having with a hot older woman pushing back on her to fucking T-Pain, but she’s hungry! Liquor gives her the appetite of a fucking rhinosaurous, what can she say! 
Saliyah and Yuki are handling business for her, though, giving the lady’s ass very encouraging slaps every time their hips connect. Ellie probably looks like a fucking dumbass as she pumps her fist in the air like an old man, but she can’t remember the last time she partied. Sue her! 
It’s not until the woman stands upright, her sweaty, nearly bare back pressed against Ellie’s button-up, an arm coming up to loop around her neck, slightly shifting her bow tie that Ellie freezes, her fists clenching even tighter in the air. Her core gives a sharp squeeze when she feels sticky, glossed lips imprint on her throat. Her eyes bulge as she frantically searches for guidance from her friends, but they’re no fucking help, as usual! What the hell is miming sex and eating pussy going to do for her? She can barely breathe. 
Her friends shoot her finger guns in encouragement before heading back to the bar. A tongue darts out to lap up her anxiety-induced sweat, and her body tremors, her hands untwisting to land on the girl’s jean covered hips for leverage. She feels teeth beam on her neck and her entire body flushes. 
“You’re adorable!” Ellie hears her scream over the blasting music. Her tongue jumbles as she searches for a reply, but nothing leaves. She just drops her head onto the woman’s shoulder… and nearly flat lines when she eyes the cleavage sitting taut in her halter top. Her heart’s pulses synch with the ones from her clit when the woman giggles. Ellie’s ninety-five-point six percent sure that her nipples are poking through her shirt. 
Her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek when the woman spins to face her, chest to chest, noses almost touching. The woman’s gaze drops to her neck, cunning as a fox as she undoes the first button of her shirt before unraveling the loop of her bow tie. She leans in, wafts of cinnamon flooding Ellie’s nostrils. 
“Come to the bathroom with me?” Ellie’s nodding before the lady can conclude the purr in her ear. Her hand gets snagged and she’s being dragged through the hot crowd, all the way to the back of the club and shoved into the giant restroom. She finally takes in the goddess in front of her: dark hair, plump lips, pretty lashes. The wrinkles by her eyes and laugh lines are sending dopamine alarms in her brain. 
Ellie receives one gentle kiss that makes her hips
grind forward before she hears, “You ever been tied up?” The raven-haired woman mumbles against her mouth. She whines, cheeks burning, “N-No,” she whispers. 
Her perfect teeth shine, “You wanna be?” 
Does she? “I — yeah, I guess?” 
“Put your wrists together,” she hums and Ellie does. Her own bow tie gets looped and twisted around her nimble hands. The woman drops to her knees in front of the trembling girl, massaging her thighs over her jeans, planting kisses all over them, “You gotta name, honey?” 
“Ellie… M’Ellie…” The woman’s hands creep up to unbutton her jeans, the soft hiss of the zipper, “What’s yours?” She only receives a shrug. “Whatever you want it to be.” Her jeans are yanked down seconds later, her… fucking Cartoon Network boxers drenched all the way through. The woman giggles and calls Ellie a cutie pie and her clit jumps. 
Her manicured nails hook under the band of Ellie’s boxers, slowly inching them down until her soft, sticky hairs are on display and her boxers are around her knees, “Gonna let me eat this pussy out, angel?” 
Ellie’s vision whites out. Only for a second, “Y-Yes, ma’am…”
Ellie’s sopping lips and pulled apart, her red, throbbing clit on display for the fucking witch in front of her. “You’re so fuckin’ cute. Anybody ever play with this pretty cunt?” Reality crashes down on her like a boulder as images of you touching her, kissing her flash before her eyes. Her jaw slacks as her words flurry. 
“Just — fuck, just one time.” 
“Yeah?” She coos, massaging gentle circles on her clit, “I'm your lucky second?” Ellie nods frantically. Her knees buckle when a sharp slap lands on her pussy, “Ffuck—“ The strokes on her clit are punishing, fast and non-stopping, the woman’s teeth gritted when she asks, “Steppin’ out on your girl, huh?” 
Ellie moans around her denial while her cheeks glow, “N— agh, s-shit, wasn’t m’girl—“
“Yeah? She touch you like me?” The woman snickers, and Ellie burns red. She’s already so close and she can’t fucking think, “Think m’cummin’—“ Ellie slurs, her tongue thick in her mouth as her walls squeeze down, desperately trying to pull something, anything in as deep as possible. 
“Can feel it. Tell me when.” But Ellie couldn’t. Her orgasm crashes into her like a fucking truck and her body falls forward, legs trembling as it wracks through her in harsh waves. The thighs that try to close are forced open, sharp stings radiating off her skin from the nails that pierce them. Strong suctions attack Ellie’s clit and she sobs, practically riding the woman’s face. Vibrations from satisfied hums stimulate her further, and she swears she’s going to pass out. 
The pleasure builds all over again and her eyes squeeze shut, her hips thrusting forward and into the woman’s mouth. Her optics cycle into her skull when the space right below her clit gets stimulated just right and she rides that edge all over again, but this time, it’s stronger. The woman’s groaning in her pussy like she’s starving, and Ellie can barely garble her warning of another orgasm. 
She squeaks when a gentle finger slides between her walls and she wishes it felt like yours did. Ellie’s bound hands entangle in the soft locks and pull, pushing her head any which way to guide her where she needs. She doesn’t register that she’s whining your name until the woman asks, “Tha’s your girl?” Right on her pussy, and Ellie tips.
She’s so loud when she explodes all over this stranger’s face, wetness coating her inner thighs, dripping all the way down to the bottoms locked around her ankles. You take refuge in the nasty side of her brain as she envisions you between her legs, you making her feel this good. Something about the way you touch her… She thinks it's impossible to replicate till this day. 
When Ellie comes down, she falls against the door, relishing in the steady kitten licks on her twitching bud. One last gentle kiss, and the woman separates from the mess between Ellie’s thighs, chest wet with her juices. 
“Good, honey?” 
Ellie blinks like she’s risen from the dead, short hair clinging to her forehead. She shoots the woman two thumbs up and she chuckles, untying Ellie’s hands and helping her back onto her feet. The woman helps her redress after she cleans herself up, and Ellie’s nose twitches when her own stickiness latches onto her clothes. Her arms fall back to her sides when her belt gets secured. 
She’s winded when she finally speaks, “Um… thanks…” How the fuck does Ellie say goodbye to someone who sucked her soul out?
“No problem…” The woman’s warm hands are soft as they push away damp strands from Ellie’s forehead. The freckled girl nearly purrs. Call her Pickle at this point. 
Ellie steps away from the door so that the fucking seductress can exit. The woman backs away and unlocks the door with a gentle smile. “You should text her.” 
Ellie’s stomach churns. “… What.” 
“The girl that’s not your girl.” That’s the last thing she says before stepping out. Ellie’s heart plummets when her eyes lock with Saliyah’s, then Yuki’s. Her friends gawk at her disheveled appearance, lipstick stains littered all over her button up. Ellie’s not nearly as embarrassed as she should be; All she can think about is you. 
“I think I’m in trouble.” Ellie states mindlessly.
“Doesn’t look like it.” Yuki snickers and pulls Ellie out of the bathroom. She hides her face when she’s met with the long line of people desperately needing to piss. 
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WEEK SEVEN WITH DOCTOR BROWN.
“You look bright.” 
You feel brighter. Just a little bit. You’ve finally gotten your locs retwisted. 
“Amaya texted me back.” Dr. Brown seems impressed at your statement, happy for you. A small smile makes its way onto your face. 
“Yeah? What’d Ms. Producer say?” 
“She, um… She wants to have dinner.” 
“Oh? And what’d you say?” 
“I said of course and then sobbed until I got here.” Dr. Brown chuckles, “When’s the big meal?” 
“In two days. I got a hotel near where she’s at, so… Yeah. Probably won’t see me for a little.” 
“Good for you, honey.” She says proudly, “Heard from any others?” Your head shakes. It’s not surprising that Abby and Ellie haven’t reached out to you. They don’t owe you any closure, even though it took you a while to accept your karma. 
“Progress is progress, nonetheless.” Her tone reverts back to stern, “Remember… when you see that girl, don’t expect anything to come from it. She’s going out of her way to speak with you, not the other way around.” 
Your head bows shamefully. You're incredibly nervous to see your best friend… if you deserve to call her that anymore. Anxiety isn’t foreign to you, but you’re anticipating the worst for your meeting. You’d give anything to mend your relationship with Amaya, but how’re you going to be able to overcome the guilt of abandoning her?
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You can’t remember the last time you went to the campus coffee shop. 
When Amaya sent you her new address in the middle of your old college city, you sobbed for half an hour. You’re not sure why considering the entirety of your graduating class is gone (hopefully in hell); It’s a mix of emotions coming back here. The baristas that used to work here have been replaced with new bushy-tailed freshmen with under eye bags. The coffee isn’t the best, but it’s oddly nostalgic. You feel fucking old just looking at their bright customer service smiles.
Your attention gets snagged away from your steaming cup when a sharp gasp echoes from behind you, nearly spilling your drink all over your flannel when someone calls your name. Anxiety spikes in your gut when you see… 
Who is that? 
“Oh my goodness! Sweetheart!” An older woman with gray hair and a cardigan places her hand on your shoulder and your eyes bulge out of your skull. “It’s so good to see you!”
What the fuck is going on? “You... You, too, uh… ma’am!” You put on the most believable smile you can. Is your memory really this fucking bad?
“Students don’t usually stick around after this long! Our major was pretty small, you know how it is.” Major… Students… Graphic design… Professor! Your memory clicks but her name doesn’t. What the fuck is this woman’s name! You feel like a cunt all over again! 
“I’d love to catch up if you’re sticking around!” 
“Um… yeah, of course.” Her smile is bright when she enters the line. Relief floods through you when she gets to the service counter and one of the baristas says good morning, Professor Meyers! 
You silently thank the Lord. 
-
-
“What brings you back to town, honey!” Professor Meyers asks excitedly. 
“Um… just missin’ school, I guess.” You lie. Fuck this school. 
She swallows her sip of tea before pausing, “Wow. First time I heard that. I didn’t see you at graduation!” 
Your chest concaves and your face burns, “I, uh. I didn’t graduate. I dropped out.” Professor Meyers' expression drops, pity written all over her face. 
“Wh— Why?” 
You shut down her interrogation, “I just… stuff happened. I couldn’t handle everything all at once.” Her eyes sadden and she places a comforting hand on top of yours. 
“I’m so sorry, honey. Whatever it was… I hope it’s okay, now.” 
“Getting through it.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance. The air is suddenly suffocating. 
“Y’know… if you’re interested…” Professor Meyers’ tone is suggesting. Your brow quirks at the woman plotting in front of you. 
“Some of the art profs are always looking for some extra help for the introductory courses. Your rough drafts were always pretty spectacular.” 
Your body burns. “Thank you.” 
She smiles and reaches into her bag in the other chair, pulling out a small card and handing it to you. “This is my contact information. I can set you an interview with Professor Ronson if you’d wanna join the little alumni support team.” 
You accept her card, “But I’m not… I didn’t graduate— “
“Oh, hush now! If you go to college, you’re an alumni! These exclusive rules are outdated!” Professor Meyers stands with her bag and tea. “I gotta run, but please consider it! It could be a great marketing opportunity for you!” 
You're left to simmer in your thoughts as she rushes out of the cafe. You didn’t even have the chance to tell her that you haven’t touched a canvas since your father’s funeral. 
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You waltz into the upscale restaurant with tied lungs. Prepping an outfit for tonight was a hassle; You were forced to rummage through your father’s closet for suitable attire. You can’t remember the last time you made a purchase for yourself. 
You feel out of place standing here with the… upper class. They’re dressed to the nines and it’s incredibly intimidating. Your eyes cast downward to your wrinkly shirt and blazer; Why didn’t you bring a fucking iron? 
“How can I help you, miss?”
Your eyes bulge when they lock with the host’s and gut churns with discomfort. Your legs wobble closer to the counter, “I— there’s… reservation…”
The host stares at you with utter confusion, “Oh, sure! What’s the name?” 
“Um… Amaya— “
“Ms. Robinson?” The host’s eyes fill with glitter, “Oh my gosh, when I saw her walk in earlier, I was like, no way she’s actually here. This is crazy! But it was really her! I couldn’t believe— “
Another host interjects, “My apologies, ma’am! She’s a bit, uh, excited. Your table is right this way.” The host begins walking, and your feet move on autopilot, “Would you like a menu?” 
“No. I’m good, thanks.” You won’t be able to keep anything down anyway. 
You move through bustling walkways, ears filled with bouts of obnoxious laughter and corny jokes with each table you pass. 
Your heart stutters in your chest when you see the isolated leather and rosewood booth where Amaya sits, her back to you. There’s two glasses and a bottle of… something on the table. 
“Ms. Robinson! Your guest is here!” 
Amaya, filled glass in hand, cranes her neck and meets your flitting gaze. Her eyes are stagnant, unmoving, and your nerves wrack. She looks fucking immaculate with the slit in her black dress, smokey makeup, heeled
shoes. She’s dressed down for a fucking funeral. Yours. 
You’re actually not ready to see her. You’re not ready at all. 
-
-
“You want a glass?” 
Amaya’s tone is cold. Colder than the dripping neck of the bottle right in front of you. “N-No thank you.” 
She scoffs laughter around the rim, “Shocking.” You scramble for a reply, anything to say to the woman oozing impatience in front of you. 
“I’m sorry.” You whisper. She sets her glass down with an unsteady clink. 
“You said that already.” She states, brown eyes sharp. “Why are you?” 
You scratch at your ear, trying to mask the tremors in your fingertips, “Because… I — I wasn’t…” 
“I don’t hear from you for months,” She spits, “And then I get a phone call from my drunk best friend screamin’ at me, tellin’ me that I fucking left her to grieve by herself… because I’m selfish and money hungry… Right?”
Angry tears sizzle in Amaya’s eyes as she continues, “And I still come and visit you… only to get a door slammed in my fuckin’ face.” 
You’re completely frozen; You can barely look her in the eye. Your hands are clenched together under the table, nausea creeping up your throat. “I… there’s no excuse for what I did— “
Amaya’s eyes are void, “Why did you do it.” 
“I don’t know how to explain it,” you rush out, desperate. You’re losing her, “He — I was just — I couldn’t control myself and I screamed and yelled and blamed everyone for what happened. I was just so mad and I couldn’t stop— “
“Abby called me two days ago.” 
You gasp, “S-She did—?” 
“She told me she hated you.” Amaya says plainly. The remaining shards of your heart dissipate like dust, leaving your mouth when you whimper, “O-Okay.” Tears stream down your cheeks and neck, harsh sniffles filling the small corner of the restaurant. “She hasn’t, um… never mind.” That’s why she hasn’t reached out, you suppose. Well deserved. 
“I don't… hate you, you know that, right?” 
You sob, palms in your eyes, “S’okay if you do. I deserve it.” 
She shrugs, “I don’t. I’m just very disappointed in you.” You nod in agreement, in understanding. You accept that this is probably the last time you’ll ever see someone you considered a sister. 
“I’m so sorry, May— “
“M’gonna head out. I’m,” She wipes a tear and grabs her bag, throwing a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “I… I don’t hate you.” You cry as you watch Amaya gather herself, stand, and leave without another word. You heave and attempt to dry your face with the fresh napkin but they won’t stop flowing. 
It’s difficult, accepting that you’re undeserving. That you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you can’t escape. It’s dark and cold and you’re desperate for comfort but it never comes because you chased it all away. You eye the tall bottle that sweats; Very tempting, but you leave it where it stands. The blame for your downfall is yours to take; The only reward you can receive now is from your upkeep. To dig yourself out from beneath the maggot-infested dirt. To resurface and recover what you can. 
You’re unsure how long you sit here crying. Devastation sets hard in your tummy when you stand to leave the restaurant, ignoring the judgmental stares from the annoying, old fuckers that wouldn’t stop glaring at you. 
The air outside is fresh and soothing as you walk, right past your parked car. Past the young people mingling and taking pictures. Past the girl doing graffiti on the old building across the street. Something beats in your chest when you eye her spray paint cans, brushes in her hand, the bright colors all over her bare arms. Her passion is evident, even from a distance, and you miss that. That feeling that takes over when you create something that no one else can replicate. Her style is unique to her just like yours is to you. 
Color sparks in your soul for the first time in a year, and you know what you have to do tomorrow morning. 
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taggiesss yasss n slayyyy @dyk3ang3l @ellieloml @inf3ct3dd @fromminaa @womenofarcane @sawaagyapong @mina-281 @aouiaa @bbglmfao @i00rii @sakiigami @starologist @southelroys @diddiqueen @trackinglessons @ellieswhorcrux @villainousbear @p4ison1vy @tohoko @yuckyfucky @dollyfleurs @elsbunny222 @sevsbimbo @amiorca @alittlextrahoney @gato-chino @topiatwin @r3wbeef @elliesatchel @muthafuckingstargirl
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You Missed My Heart: PART 2
PART 1 LINK      |      PART 2 LINK      |      PART 3 LINK
Description: Miguel had died months ago. At least, my universe’s Miguel had died. Maybe I should have noticed when I could feel him touching me in my dreams, but grief is a hell of a thing. That is, until I woke up in a house that looked just like mine, but somehow different.
Miguel had taken me from my universe and put me in one where he could relive his past, whether I liked it or not.
Word Count: 11,305 
Author’s Note: I swear I re-wrote this three different times and all of them were drastically different. I checked for typos, but I’m posting this at four in the morning so there may be a few. 
Content Warning: smut, mild breeding kink, reader is being held against their will, dub-con (if you squint), piv, oral, unprotected sex; Miguel gets injured at one point; Miguel being manipulative and an ass, bit of angst (I mean his wife and child are dead so yeah)
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Minors DNI! Story is below the cut
I groaned as I opened my eyes. My face was pressed in the crook between where Miguel’s ribs and arms would normally meet. He had moved me there in the middle of the night when I had managed to drift too far away from him. I had tried to squirm and protest, but I ended up caving before he would let go. I knew he was stubborn enough to pin me there out of spite and it wasn’t worth it.
Miguel was still awake somehow. It was dark in the room, save for the faint light that drifted through the curtains. Whatever time it was, it was either too late or too early for him to be up.
“Go back to sleep.” Miguel said. His voice was stern but gentle. I slid my hands down and grabbed onto the edge of the blanket. I hauled it upward, pulling it over my head. He let out a low chuckle as he watched me try to disappear.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Just after three.” He leaned down and pressed a quick peck against the blanket that covered the top of my head. “Get some sleep.” 
I glanced up at the gap between his chest and the blanket. Moonlight streamed through the window, painting his features in soft lines and shadows. He looked angelic. He was focusing on something in front of him, frowning and furrowing his eyebrows every so often. 
What was he doing?
I gently pulled down the blanket so that I could see what he was up to. 
Miguel was propped up on a pillow that leaned against the headboard. His eyes were focused on his hands, which were held out in front of him, spaced apart by about six inches, palm facing palm. Threads glistened between his fingers in the moonlight. His fingers were twisting and weaving new threads around the ones that lay between his fingers. The thin webs had been pulled from his spinnerets in his upper wrists. It was like watching someone play cat’s cradle.
One of his arms rested on my back. It didn’t hurt; it wasn’t even uncomfortable, but it did hold me in place, only allowing me the bare minimum of space for my chest to move as I breathed.
“You should go to sleep, too.” I said. I turned my head back and buried my face in his chest. He smiled, continuing to work. 
“I’m not tired.”
I glanced up at him. His dark eyes were beautiful like this. His face looked peaceful. I was too tired to see if he was lying or not.
“Have you gotten any sleep yet? Any at all?” I asked. He shook his head. 
“I’ll be alright. Just close your eyes.” 
I nodded, too tired to argue with him. I started to say something, but the words slurred together until I fell silent. Sleep pulled me in, welcoming me warmly. 
“I know, sweetheart.” He whispered, never faltering in his work. 
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Something clattered to the floor downstairs, ripping me from my dream.
I winced, feeling the sun burn my eyes as it streamed in through the window. I tried to push myself upward, but I was overtaken with a dull ache in all of my muscles. 
Fucking hell.
It felt like I had been in a car crash. Every part of my body hurt. But, the most noticeable ache was between my legs. I swallowed hard as I pushed myself upward. I needed aspirin. 
As I moved, I couldn’t help but notice a divot in the bed on Miguel’s side. It was lined with sheets that had been ripped through. The hole was a decent size; roughly the size of a fist and a couple of inches deep. 
It hadn’t been there last night. At least, I hadn’t seen it there.
I slid my right hand over to touch the edges of the divot. It was the perfect size to accommodate Miguel’s hand. But why was it there?
I winced, feeling a sharp pain shoot through my body. If he was in a decent mood, I could ask him about it. If not, it didn’t really matter.   
I leaned over and grabbed the bottle of aspirin. As I moved, a faint twinkle caught my eye. I flipped my hand over. In the middle of the night, Miguel had slipped something around my ring finger. It was a thin band that had been braided from webbing and then tied off on the front of my finger with a small knot. 
Huh.
I tapped my thumb against the material, expecting it to stick to my finger in the same way that the web had stuck to my ankle last night. But this one didn’t. It had been worn smooth by his fingertips. The material looked almost silver in the early morning light. When I pulled my hand into the shadows, it looked almost like braided moonstone. 
I wasn’t sure whether to feel violated by the fact that he had placed a wedding ring on me in the middle of the night, or impressed by the precision it had taken to make it. 
I turned my hand back and forth, inspecting the thing from all angles. If I had known him for any meaningful amount of time, it would have been a sweet and loving gesture. 
I groaned. It was a gift from the man who had basically kidnapped me from my home, but still, I needed to take whatever nice gestures I could get, no matter how presumptuous. 
I unscrewed the cap and dropped several pills into the palm of my hand. I pushed the first pill into my mouth. As I went to swallow, I couldn’t help but notice the faint numbness that lingered on my bottom lip. It was in the exact spot that his fangs had nipped, either on purpose or mistake.
That’s… weird.
I swallowed the pill and then leaned down to touch my thighs. Bright red marks covered my legs, showing off his handy-work. I quickly slid my fingers along the skin… only to meet the same result. 
The skin was numb. It was almost impossible to move the half centimeters of flesh that had been ever so gently nicked. He hadn’t bit me; not really. Just a graze was enough to do that. 
Jesus.
I winced as I downed the second pill. Then I pushed myself up from the bed and made my way to the dresser. I needed something to wear. But, I wasn’t wearing more lingerie. It already hurt to walk; I needed time to heal before I wore anything close to that again. I sighed as I stepped across the room, looking for something to wear. Miguel had laid his sweatshirt from last night on the dresser. I was sure that he had left it for me after my complaint last night. 
Maybe it was a peace offering. Or maybe the sex had been the peace offering and this was just him being nice.  
I quickly pulled it on. It was long enough to cover my hips and a good part of my thighs. I quickly snagged a pair of underwear from the dresser and pulled them on, as well.
Downstairs, something else clattered to the floor. What the hell was he doing?
As I stepped into the hallway, I noticed the boxes that had been piled up outside of the yellow door. I flipped open one of the cardboard tabs. Inside lay my things. At the bottom of the box, I noticed the sleeve of one of my sweaters. He had brought me my things, just as he had said he would. Did he ever go to sleep last night?
I padded down the stairs, making my way to the kitchen with every step. I figured that that was where he was. He didn’t seem like the kind to just linger around the house, looking for some kind of mindless activity to fill his time. He seemed too serious for that. 
I stepped into the kitchen and was immediately greeted by an unexpected sight. He was standing in front of the stove, pushing around eggs in a skillet. The downstairs was cold from the winter air but he was still wearing only a thin t-shirt and a pair of boxers.
He was a portrait of domesticity. 
I watched him closely as I stepped into the room.
“I made breakfast.” He said. 
“Did you get any sleep?” I asked. I couldn’t help but notice that the shattered plate had been picked out of the sink and had been thrown into the trash. He turned to meet my gaze. The dark circles under his eyes told me everything that I needed to know. 
“Miguel, you need to go back to bed.”
“I’ll be fine.” He frowned as he pushed the spatula around in the skillet. “I made coffee.”
“Thank you.” I made my way toward the coffee pot that rested on the counter beside him. As I did, his eyes never left the stove. I reached for one of the coffee cups that had been laid out for me. As I did, I glanced back at Miguel. God, he looked tired. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” I asked. 
He scoffed. “I sleep perfectly fine.” 
“Okay then.” I muttered. Guess that was a touchy subject for him. I rolled my eyes as I grabbed the coffee pot. I filled the mug with the dark liquid. As I leaned forward to slide it back into its original spot, Miguel stepped to the side and pulled open the door to the fridge. Without missing a beat, he pulled out a container of creamer and handed it to me, then slinked back to the stove before the eggs had the chance to begin to brown. 
“Thank you.” I said. Warm light from the kitchen caught the ring, making it twinkle again. I considered asking him about it, but I decided not to. Surely he would bring it up if it was something that he wanted to talk about. 
A dark strand of hair fell across his forehead as he focused on the skillet. “Do you need any help?” I asked. 
He quickly shook his head. “What’s on your mind?” I wanted to get even a scrap of conversation from him; I needed some idea as to what he was thinking about. Maybe I should just leave him alone. Maybe he liked to exist in silence. I mean, if nothing else, he seemed used to it. 
“Work. How did you sleep?” He asked. 
“Okay, I guess.”  I added the creamer to my coffee and then returned the container to the spot where he had pulled it from. I carried my mug back to the counter, watching as he lifted the skillet off of the stovetop. I lifted the mug to my lips but then suddenly jerked it back. The glass was hot; it burned the skin of my lower lip everywhere except for the small spot in the center of my mouth. 
“Fuck!” I touched the skin and was met with a familiar numbness. 
Miguel dropped the skillet onto the stove and rushed forward. Within seconds he had cleared the area between the stove and the counter, moving so that he was standing directly in front of me. He towered over me, wasting no time to invade my personal space. “Sorry, I’m fine.” I said. I brushed my fingers along my lip, grazing the burned flesh and then the numbed skin. It felt weird and I didn’t like it. 
“Okay, sweetheart. Let me see.”
“It’s fine. I just burned myself.” He shook his head before reaching down and gently grabbing onto my chin. He pulled my head upward. My eyes met his for a moment before he turned his attention down to the mark on my mouth. 
“Move your hand.” He instructed. I did as I was told and dropped my hand down to the cold stone of the counter. 
“Miguel, I’m fine. I promise.” He didn’t believe me; I could tell from the deep line that had formed between his eyebrows.
“Open wide.” He instructed. His thumb slid across my lower lip. The touch was feather-light; almost too gentle, too caring. 
“Your face is red.” He remarked.
“This is demeaning.” The words slurred together as he inspected my mouth. 
“Is your lip numb?” His perfected vision could see the minute scrapes against my skin; tiny cuts that had been collateral damage in the excitement of the previous night. 
“A little bit.” He winced, but quickly fixed his expression before I could comment on it.
“It should wear off in a couple of hours. You weren’t actually bit so the effects shouldn’t be too bad. Just be careful not to hurt yourself.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head.
“What if you had bitten me?” I asked. He released my jaw from his hold. 
“That’s not something you need to worry about.” 
“But if it had… let’s say I’m someone else and you bit me, what would happen.” His face twitched. Something flickered behind his eyes as if he was considering it. His eyes didn’t leave my face.
“That’s not… no.” 
“Miguel, it’s a basic question. I barely know anything about you. If you’re planning on keeping me here, then I want to know-” he cut me off.
“And I said no. Damn it, why isn’t that enough for you? What are you wanting from me?” His voice was sharp and cold, like metal. Suddenly, the device on his wrist let out a low chirp. He glanced downward. 
He gave a low sigh. “I’ll get you a plate. You didn’t eat anything last night.” He turned and quickly began to mess with the thing on his wrist. 
I glanced down at the counter. A chorus of beeps came from his wrist as he worked. I gently slid my teeth against my bottom lip; the numbness was strangely fascinating. 
Without a word, Miguel sat the plate down in front of me. Steam drifted off the fresh eggs that covered the plate.
“Thank you.” He didn’t answer me. His eyes lingered on my face for a long moment before he leaned back against the countertop.
He rolled his hand around his wrist, moving his eyes between me and the device. “I have work to do today. But I restocked the fridge so there’s plenty for you to eat. Feel free to help yourself to anything you like. The TV in the living room works, as does the stereo. Most of your books should be upstairs, so you should have plenty to occupy your time.”
“Thank you.” I said. I stabbed a bright yellow piece of egg with my fork. “How long are you going to be gone?” I asked. 
“Are you going to miss me?” He paused, waiting for a response. I nodded, partly because I knew it was the right answer and partly because I thought I would, even if just a little bit. He smiled, proud of my answer. “It shouldn’t be too long. Just a couple of things to correct, then I’ll be right back.” There was something about the way that he said the word ‘correct’ that made me wince. He meant kill; I thought of the blood on his face and knew what he meant when he said he fixed things. 
“Is there anything you think you’re going to do today?” Miguel asked. He wanted to know my plans for the day. Well, gee, Miguel, I’ll probably stay trapped here. 
Then something occurred to me. I was the only person here and I knew more of what was going on now. There was no reason I shouldn’t be allowed to explore.
“Can I leave the house?” I asked.
“And where would you go?” It seemed ridiculous to him to even ask. Why would I ever want to leave when I could sit in an empty house all by myself and pretend I wasn’t his prisoner?
“Out.” I said. “Maybe walk around the block. Is there another block or does it stop after what I can see from the front stoop?” 
“There’s other blocks. But I don’t understand why you would want to leave the house.” 
“Fucking hell, Miguel.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud. I turned my attention to the plate. He ground his teeth together for a moment. He was choosing to ignore what I had said. 
“If you need something to occupy your time when I’m gone, I’ll get you a pet.” That doesn’t replace the fact that I wanted to leave the house. I wanted to pretend that my life was normal, even if there was nobody in Nueva York anymore. I could still act as if things hadn’t changed. 
“Ah, a pet for your pet. Doesn’t that seem a bit redundant?” I muttered. That jab had been entirely intentional. 
It was true, though. I was a pet to him; maybe I received different forms of affection than the standard house cat, but the same rules seemed to apply. He would come and go as he needed; I was to stay where I had been placed, always ready and willing to entertain when he came back. 
He rolled his eyes as he leaned against the counter. He continued to poke at the device on his wrist. “I’m ignoring you.” I rolled my eyes as I continued to eat. 
“It isn’t fair to lock me inside of a house and never let me leave. You ever heard of cabin fever? I’m going to end up going insane in here.”
“I highly doubt that.” His hair bounced as he spoke. He was shaking his head at me while he messed with his device. 
“Miguel.”
“You’ll be fine.” He said it like it was the end of the discussion. Hell, it wasn’t even a discussion; he just kept saying no. 
“Come on!”
“Is there something you’re wanting to say to me?” His tone was harsh. 
“Yeah, you’re really pissing me off.”
“You’ll get over it. You always do.” 
“Just tell me why. If you think I’m going to run away then where would I even go? There’s nothing out there. So why?” 
“It’s for your own good. Just stay in the damn house.” I rolled my eyes as I took a sip of the cooled coffee. 
“You never fucking tell me anything and then you get pissy when I ask questions.”
“I am not being pissy.” He shook his head and muttered something under his breath. There was a long moment of silence between us. 
“Don’t call me pissy.” He muttered. He sounded more annoyed than actually angry. He almost sounded like an annoyed child. I had to fight back a laugh at how petulant he sounded.
A weird silence hung in the air. I began to eat, ignoring how he fixed his eyes on me. Though, any time I would look up to catch his stare, he would glance back down and fiddle with his wrist. 
"I really do believe that you could start to like it here. I think you just need time. Then, you'll start to warm up to me."
He brushed his hair off of his forehead and let out a low sigh. "You do love me. You just need time." He said the first part for me. He repeated the second part for himself.
I did love him, at least a little bit. Even if just for the fact that he looked so much like another version of himself; a sweeter version… a softer one. 
Maybe he was capable of being that way. Or, maybe he was too far gone. 
His eyes moved upward to meet mine and I felt a sudden wave of shame wash over me. 
"You look beautiful this morning." He said. 
“Miguel,” I asked. His features softened at the sound of his name. “Is there any chance that I’ll ever get to go home?” 
He winced. “If you go back to your timeline, one of two things could happen. Either time will find a way to correct itself and you will die or everything will collapse in on itself. If that happened, it would kill every single person you’ve ever known and billions more.” A bright light shone from his wrist. 
It was time for him to go. 
He let out a low sigh. “I don’t…” His voice trailed off. He looked down at the ground for a moment. “I can’t send you back to die. I won’t.” 
I guess that was my answer.
He stepped toward me. His face had softened. “I want you to be happy and safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” I didn’t reply. He moved closer, stopping only once our bodies were almost touching. 
I looked at him, unsure of what he wanted. He leaned down, placing a finger under my chin. It was the gentlest touch he could manage, yet it was backed with unfathomable strength. He lifted my chin up to meet his gaze.
“I love you. I’ll be back as soon as possible. Be a good girl for me. Okay?” I nodded. He pushed a quick peck against my lips before he walked off, heading toward the archway that connected the kitchen to the living room. Once he vanished from sight, I heard him begin to speak into his device.
A pink and orange light enveloped the living room; it was so bright that I winced. The light vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
Then, just like that, he was gone. 
I sighed to myself. Well, no time like the present. 
I pushed myself up, grabbed my coffee mug, and headed upstairs.
He would be gone for hours. There was no harm in exploring, especially since he wasn’t here to stop me. If he didn’t want to tell me anything, then I would have to find it out for myself. After all, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. 
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I stared at the yellow door upstairs. Not knowing what was inside was going to eat me alive. I knew it wasn’t an office; Miguel didn’t stay here long enough to do anything but drag me around and then try his idea of a romantic gesture. Maybe it was a storage room, but even then he was entirely too cagey about the whole thing. He didn’t strike me as the kind of person to have some kind of mindless hobby. 
Maybe he was living out the story of Bluebeard and there was something macabre inside. Maybe there was something perverse inside. 
It didn’t matter; I had to know. 
I pushed several of the boxes out of the way. I slid them several feet to the left. I could just move them back when I was done and he would never know. Stepping forward, I reached out and grabbed the door handle. Then, I gave a firm twist. 
It was locked.
Damn it. 
Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? He’s the one who locked me up. He’s the one who said I couldn’t leave the house. He’s the one that did all of this in the first place. 
I couldn’t help but notice that the locks on my door and this door were different. This door was aimed at keeping other people out of the space; mine was aimed at locking me inside, like a princess in a tower. 
I needed some way to get the door open. I was sure that I would understand this all a little better if I could just figure out why he was so determined to keep this a secret from me. 
Then, I remembered my Miguel fighting with the floorboard in our bedroom. Before he embarked on his noble mission to defeat the squeaking sound, he had bought a case of beer and a new set of screwdrivers. If this version of him was so determined to make a perfect copy of my house, then he would have added the set.
I dashed to the hall closet and quickly pulled out the black plastic case that rested on the bottom shelf. Bingo! I plucked the screwdriver from the box and then walked over to the yellow door. I knew that with the old style of lock, I just needed to get the metal inside of the keyhole to move. If it moved, then the door would pop open with no issue. 
I slotted the screwdriver into place and then twisted hard. At first, it didn’t even flinch. Then, after a moment,  the lock groaned and then popped open. I quickly twisted the brass door handle and smiled as the door opened. I pushed the door open wide and then flipped the lightswitch. 
What the fuck?
The room was small. Every wall had been painted a soft yellow; it was a step up from the stark white that the original room had been. A small stuffed elephant lay in the middle of a crib that was pushed against the far wall. A framed ultrasound sat on the bookshelf. Little pieces of a life; of hopes and memories, all packed away to be forgotten.
None of this was from my timeline. In my universe, this was just his office. It was where Miguel would disappear to for most of the night after returning from work. After he died, I locked the door and pretended the room didn’t exist. When the men from Alchemax showed up to take the cardboard boxes filled with his work, I didn’t even have the courage to peek inside of the room. The room was the black hole in the house, eating away at any chance of sleep or happiness that I had. 
At least that was something this Miguel and I seemed to share.
I stepped into the small room, moving toward the bookshelf that rested against the far wall. The shelf was the only thing that looked familiar. 
A box rested on the bottom shelf. I quickly dipped down and pulled it free. I flipped the lid and discarded it onto the floor in front of me. The box was filled with small photos. Some were older than others, each faded and weathered to different degrees. I sunk down to the floor. I moved so that I was sitting criss cross. 
I reached inside of the box and pulled out one of the photos. The picture was weathered, but I could still make out a version of me staring up at him with an adoring gaze. She wore a wedding dress and he wore a suit. 
Jesus.
I sat the photo on the floor beside me and then reached into the box and fished out a small handful. I started to sift through them, viewing little pieces of Miguel’s life as I went. When I reached the last three photos, I stopped. They were pictures of Miguel holding a little girl. She was small and perfect, with his eyes and his smile. 
His child. 
I winced as I looked at the pictures. The last photo was of Miguel and I standing behind her. She was sitting in a small plastic highchair with a cake in front of her. On it, there was a glowing candle in the shape of a ‘1’. Miguel’s mouth was open in the process of saying something as I laughed. It was a moment that was frozen, giving him a small slice of time to keep when it all disappeared.
Fucking hell. I leaned forward and put the pictures back in the box. I didn’t want to look at this anymore. I felt my stomach flip as a wave of nausea overtook me.
However, as I leaned over, I spotted several more photos in the bottom of the box. But, I did know these pictures. I just hadn’t known that they had been taken. In two of the pictures, I was inside of the bookstore that I had worked at. They were pictures of me, taken in my universe. But, when did he take them? After my version of him died, I didn’t go back to work. I was lucky if I left bed most days. So these pictures were older than that. 
Suddenly, I became aware of the footfalls that came from the stairs. 
Miguel was home entirely too early. 
And I was still in the nursery. My head was still spinning from the pictures. I tried to make myself get up and frantically put the pictures back, but I couldn’t make my body move.
I heard him begin to make his way toward the bedroom. But, when he saw that the yellow door had been opened, he picked up his pace. 
I didn’t look back at him when he stepped into the doorway.
I didn’t want to meet his gaze.
“You’re not supposed to be in here.” His voice was lined with rage. I stared at the wall. I could hear him swearing under his breath, his tone flickering between pissed to sad and then back again. I glanced back to look at him for a moment. His face was tight and his eyes burned red. 
“This was your office… I’m sorry, his office.” I lifted my hand upward to point at the wall with the small window. The window had been decorated with pink curtains. “His desk was against that wall.” I glanced to the side of the room and then pointed at the left wall. “He kept all of his boxes against the wall. I only ever went inside of the office once and that was when I heard him and my dad arguing about something. But I never… I never found out what it was.” The screaming had happened two days before Miguel died and I couldn’t help but wonder if the two things had been connected. 
“I just wanted to know what was in here. That’s all.” I said. "Are you planning on locking me in my room again?" I asked. 
"No."
The man stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost. His features softened as he watched me. He walked deeper into the room, moving so that he was standing over me. He sat down on the floor beside me. His large frame was only a foot away from me; close enough to touch, but not so close as to scare me. As he sat there, I was once again reminded of how his body had always dwarfed mine. His body was large enough to provide me with either the utmost care or utmost cruelty, depending on which Miguel I got. 
“You had a child?” I asked. 
He winced. “I did.” 
“Do you want to talk about it?” My voice was little more than a whisper.
“No.” It was a sore spot for him. It was then that I noticed that he was focusing on the far wall, unable to meet my eyes. 
I was also a sore spot for him. 
I looked down at the floor as he began to speak again. 
“All I’ve ever wanted is to keep you safe.” He said. His face twitched. His eyes began to fade from red to brown. He was reliving all of his failures, past and present. 
“I understand.” I said. He let out a dry laugh. 
“But you don’t. You really fucking don’t. Do you know what it’s like to watch you die in every timeline? Every universe? Either before or after me, there you go. Either you burn to death or are crushed or get killed in a car crash or die in some freak fucking accident… and I’ve had to sit and watch.” 
He shook his head. Several dark strands of hair fell across his face. “I’m not a good man. I’ve done… horrible things.” I flinched at his words. I couldn’t tell if it was self awareness or just simple self hatred. “I just wanted a part of you that was entirely mine. A piece of you that I can love and… keep.”
He said the last part so casually. It was as if it was all just a part of the daily dysfunction of a man with a savior complex and the full power to act upon it. He had everything a man or god could ever want, except for the power of self control. 
What he had done was unfathomably wrong, but the smallest part of me could understand it. The only real difference between us was that he actually could do something about it; when I lost everything, I could only lay in bed and cry. 
However, there wasn’t enough money in any timeline to make me admit that to him. Telling him I understood his actions would only feed into the delusion that this was right… that this was inherently good. 
I nodded slowly as I took in his words. He leaned back against his arms. He pushed his hands against the hardwood as he looked around the room, as if reliving a memory. His face was crestfallen. 
My fingers brushed his. He flinched, but then gave into the touch. I slid my fingers on top of his, pinning his hand between my skin and the cold hardwood. He sat still for a moment, taking in the small crumb of affection. Then, he lifted his pinky, moving it so that it slipped on top of my ring finger. 
He glanced down at our hands. His eyes became fixed on the small ring; he was entranced at the fact that I hadn’t taken it off yet. 
Miguel opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly changed his mind. He closed his mouth, allowing for the silence to overwhelm us. 
We were both kind of pathetic. But, I felt especially so at how I still wanted some kind of closeness with him. 
I didn't want to be alone, even if the only option was with the crazy man. 
I glanced up. My eyes met his.
I leaned forward, moving so that my face was only inches away from his. The room was cold and I was sure that he could see the hard goosebumps that had formed on my skin. His eyes danced over my face before drifting down to my lips. He looked like he wanted to tell me something, but it was as if it was stuck. Whatever words he wanted to say wouldn't come out. 
I filled the last inches of space between us. Slowly, I pressed my lips against his. Our lips moulded together, fitting like puzzle pieces. He let out a low groan.
He pulled his lips away from me, giving me a chance to catch my breath.
He lay his forehead against mine. Then he whispered something that was so faint, I couldn’t hear most of it. But, I could have sworn that the last words were a soft "I’m sorry."
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The next few weeks, we existed as ghosts. He barely spoke to me. On the rare occasion that he was home during the daytime, I would often catch him staring at me with a weird mixture of adoration and sadness. He was gone until late most nights. I had taken to crawling onto the couch and falling asleep there most nights. The house was too empty; too quiet. He wouldn’t come back until late and would then, without fail, haul me back to the bedroom. I would awaken every morning to a cup of coffee on the bedside table. He would squeeze my shoulder gently, though he was always gone by the time I opened my eyes. 
My head lay against one of the pillows that I had dragged downstairs from the bed. I sighed as I turned over. The couch wasn’t uncomfortable, it was just weird to try and sleep when there was no noise coming from outside. I had gotten so used to the sounds of the city lulling me to sleep. Now, I would toss and turn for hours until I would turn on the TV for some noise. 
I pulled one of the blankets higher up on my body. The house was freezing. I glanced up at the clock on the wall. 
Just after two.
Where was he? He usually came back around one or so. He was late. Time was ticking on and he was nowhere to be found. 
Damn it. I winced, realizing that I was actually worried about him. 
Suddenly, a bright light filled the first floor. I jerked upright, turning toward the kitchen. “Miguel?” I asked. I quickly pushed myself up from the couch and made my way to the kitchen.
"Miguel?" I repeated. I flipped on the light to the kitchen and saw him standing there. He was doubled over with one hand grasping the back of a chair. Blood dripped from his nose onto the faded tile below. 
"You need to go to bed." His voice was rough. I stepped deeper into the room, ignoring him. He let out a groan as he tried to pull on the back of his suit. He reached for something, but he couldn't grasp it. He dropped his head, trying to catch his breath. I stopped several feet in front of him.
Slowly, he lifted his head. Blood covered his bottom lip. His face was bleeding from a cut on his cheekbone. It was a gash that was slowly oozing dark blood. 
"Oh my God. Miguel!" I rushed forward, filling the distance. 
"It's not as bad as it looks. They’ll heal, they just need a bit of time.” He said. Blood ran down his jaw as he spoke. He looked bad; bad enough that, if he had been the other version of himself, we would have immediately been on the way to the hospital. 
There were several gashes that had managed to cut through his suit, exposing the skin beneath. 
Dear God, what the hell happened to him?
"Go away." He said. He waved his hand, motioning for me to do as I had been told. He leaned over the side of the counter. Bruises were blossoming on his tan skin, painting him in shades of blue and black. 
"Just let me help you. Are there any bandages in the house?" I asked.
"I don't need help."
"Miguel." 
"What?" His voice was harsh; his words lined with actual pain. 
"Stop being so damn stubborn and just let me help you." I said. I walked over the lower cabinet and pulled out a hand towel. I stepped back toward him, hoping that he would soften.
Instead, he scowled at me. "Go to bed. You're just working yourself up over nothing."  
"This isn't nothing." 
He rolled his eyes as he stepped forward. "I'm completely fine." His leg went out from under him. I tried to catch and steady him, but instead, we both tumbled to the ground below. 
I watched as several of the more superficial cuts on his body began to close. 
"Jesus, Miguel. What happened?" He shook his head as he pushed himself off of the floor. 
"It's nothing. That's why I didn't want you to see any of this." He paused. "What the hell are you even doing down here?" He grabbed onto the counter to steady himself. Part of me expected to see him break the counter under his fingers. 
I pushed myself off of the floor and rushed to his side. "Is there anything I can do?" I asked. He shook his head. 
"I'm going to clean up. Go to bed." He winced as he stepped away from the counter. Based on the way he winced as he touched his side, he probably had a cracked rib.
I couldn't imagine anything that was strong enough to do this to him. Unless it had been something, or several somethings, that were all exactly like him. 
"I'm going to help you." I said. I eyed one of the deeper bruises that covered the side of his jaw. He caught me staring at the dark mark. 
"They'll heal, I swear. I can heal relatively fast." He said. Fear tore through me. What if he was wrong? What if he was lying? He hadn't meant for me to see him coming home. He had fully intended on keeping this hidden from me, regardless of how badly he was hurt. "The worst ones are the cuts but even those will be fine in an hour or two."
I had already lost him once…
He glanced over at me. Fear swirled in my eyes as I watched him. Based on the way that his face twitched, I knew he could see it. 
He glanced down at the floor. Then, he leaned to the side and caught my arm in his gloved hand. His touch was gentle, but commanding.
"Come here." He instructed. I shifted toward him, moving until his chest was almost touching mine. I could hear his steady heartbeat and feel the warmth that was pouring off his skin. 
"I love you. I promise I'm okay." His voice was no more than a whisper. 
"Just let me help you." I said. He sighed to himself, giving in to my attempt at kindness.
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The downstairs bathroom was quiet. Miguel was perched on the edge of the tub, watching as I leaned over the edge of the basin.
I turned the metal handles to the tub. Warm water spurted into the bottom of the tub. I watched as it began to pool at the bottom. Outside, I could hear the thunder boom. Rain beat against the roof of the house, filling it with the soft sound of water hitting 
"This isn't necessary. You should go back to sleep." He said. He pressed the towel to his face. Most of the blood had stopped flowing. 
"I wasn't asleep." 
"Why not?"
"The house is creepy at night. It's too quiet. I'm used to actual sounds from the city and there just aren't any here."
"I'm sorry." 
"It's fine." 
Soon, the tub was filled three quarters of the way. I leaned over and quickly turned off the flow of water. I straightened my stance and then looked back at Miguel. He offered a soft smile. A bruise blossomed just below his eye, though it immediately began to fade away. 
"I was really worried about you." I admitted.
"I'm okay."
"Are you?" I didn't believe him. He looked rough. It was as if he had been dragged through hell. It hurt to look at him too long. 
"This is all… purely superficial. I'll be better soon." I crossed my arms. Worry and fear covered my face; it was impossible to hide. 
"Sweetheart, there's nothing to worry about." His voice was like warm honey. He lifted his hand upward and motioned for me to come to him. Without question, I did. 
One arm gently curled around my waist. The other drifted upward to ghost the side of my face.
"I'm okay. This all just…" he sighed. He leaned his face forward and gently touched his forehead to my stomach. Warm skin pressed into my shirt. I could feel him slowly inhale as he breathed me in. Then, he lifted his face, peering up at me in the dim room. "This is just how it is." His voice was no more than a whisper. 
"You look tired." He said. He noticed the dark circles under my eyes.
"You're one to talk." He let out a humorless laugh.
His fingers slid across my cheek, wiping away a dark droplet that had landed on my skin. The material on his fingers was smoother than I had imagined. 
"You don't have to take care of me."
"Well, you don't seem to have any sense of self preservation. So if I don't, I don't figure you'll take care of yourself." I said. He looked at my face for a long moment. A soft smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. 
"No, that's not it. I think you care about me." Pride bubbled in his voice. I rolled my eyes. 
"Strip and get in the tub."
"Yes, Ma'am." He taunted. He winced as he reached backward again, tugging at the neck of the suit. His usual gracefulness was gone. He groaned, pulling at the back of the suit to no avail. 
"Are you okay?" I asked. He winced again as he tried to grab onto something that wasn't there. 
"I got hit earlier and I think the thing broke. I can't get it to move." His fingers worked over the material but it was no use.
"Here. Let me get it." I said. He stooped downward, moving so that I could actually grab onto the back of the material. He awkwardly leaned over as I pulled at the metal on the back of the suit. It looked like there had once been a zipper, but the tiny handle had been busted. Below it were several small clasps that had been bent down to cover the path of the zipper. 
"They really did a number on you." I murmured. I pushed my thumb under one of the clasps. I bent it forward, moving it so that I could see the path of the zipper. I did the same for the other pieces of metal that had become deformed. Then, I pinched what remained of the head of the zipper. I pulled the zipper downward, hearing him sigh softly when I unzipped the material between his shoulder blades. His skin spread out between my fingers, warm and slightly wet from sweat.
"There you go." I said. I released him and stepped backward. He should be good to go now. 
I watched as he effortlessly peeled the suit off of his bruised body. The bruises were changing in color, some getting darker as others began to fade before my eyes. 
He pulled the suit off of his arms, then down his muscular torso. As he reached his hips, I looked away, suddenly very aware of the fact that he wasn't wearing anything beneath the skin tight material. 
My face turned bright red. I looked at the door behind us, waiting for him to climb into the water. "You're blushing." 
"No, I'm… just get in the water." I heard him chuckle as he stepped out of the material. He crudely folded the material and then tossed it across the floor. It landed in a pile beside my left foot. I rolled my eyes. 
"Sweetheart, you don't have to look away from me." He said. I heard the water move as he stepped into the tub. I turned around, watching as he sank into the bath. 
I watched a dark bruise on his bare collarbone fade into his skin before disappearing. It was as if it had never been there to begin with. 
He was always full of surprises.
Miguel leaned back against the cold metal of the tub. Outside, lightning shot across the sky. It filled the room with a sudden white light. 
“I’ll clean up the floor in a little bit.” He said. The tiles in the kitchen and bathroom were stained and slick. In the dim light, the droplets on the floor looked almost black.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to go to bed after this.” I said. “And you’re actually going to sleep.” 
"That's what you think." He muttered. 
"Are you always this stubborn?” I asked. 
"Only for you, sweetheart." 
I grabbed a towel off of the counter and gently dabbed it against his cheek. His eyes focused hard on my face as I tried to tend to his fading wounds. He was attempting to read my features. I sat down beside the bathtub.
“Do I want to know what happened?” I asked. It wasn’t a playful or light question. He could hear the weight in my voice as I cleaned his face. 
“You wouldn’t like me anymore if I told you.” It was such an honest comment that I could tell it pained him. If I knew what he did when he was away, then any chance of me loving him would vanish.
Maybe it was best that I didn’t know. 
"Are you in any pain?" I asked. He shook his head. 
Steam from the tub drifted upward, clinging to his strong chest in thick beads.  
"Why have you been ignoring me for the last week?" I asked. His face tensed.
"I haven't been."
I scoffed lightly as I gently wiped his face with a towel. "And you said I was bad at acting." 
"I've had a lot on my mind." He said. I nodded slowly. 
"You can talk to me." I said. He offered a faint smile. He couldn't, because it was most likely about me. 
"Are you mad at me?" I asked. He shook his head. 
"No, I promise." I looked down at the tile floor. I didn't know what to say to him. Something weird hung in the space between us.
Suddenly, his voice cut through the cold air. 
"Get in with me." He said. 
"What? No." I said. He furrowed his brow. He hadn't expected me to refuse. 
"Why?" he asked. 
"Because you're wounded and I don't want to hurt you."
He let out a low laugh, almost as if he was mocking me. "Believe me, it's impossible for you to hurt me. Now be a good girl and get in the tub."
"You know I'm not your pet, right?" He smirked at my words. A pet was exactly what he considered me to be; maybe a darling pet that he seemed to have a steadfast devotion to, but a pet nonetheless. I rolled my eyes and began to stand up from where I had been perched. 
"Come on, sweetheart. Just get in with me. Please?" His voice was warm, much like his eyes. I sighed as I watched him. 
A nagging voice told me to just walk off. Just go to bed and ignore him. He was clearly fine. Everything that he said would happen, had actually happened. He was healing up perfectly fine. He didn't need to be babied; he was a kidnapper, not a stray cat that needed to be brought in from the rain. But still, I couldn't make myself leave the small bathroom. 
"Please?" He repeated. I groaned before I stepped back from the tub. I grabbed onto the bottom of my shirt and pulled it upward. I hauled it over my head and then discarded it onto the floor. My pajama bottoms and underwear followed close behind.
Stepping forward, I felt the cold air bite into my skin. I winced before casting a leg over the edge of the tub. I had picked the opposite side of the tub to where he was sitting, though something told me he had wanted me to climb on top of him. 
I sank into the water across from him. I lifted my hands to my chest and quickly crossed my arms in an attempt at maintaining some sense of modesty. Miguel's eyes traced over me, drinking me in. His gaze was so intense that it made me squirm. 
"Stop staring at me." I said. 
"You're beautiful." His voice was low and warm. I readjusted my arms to make sure I was covered. I wracked my brain, searching for something to say.
"So, what's the thing about this timeline?" I said.
"What do you mean 'thing'?" He asked. 
"What makes it different from my timeline? I mean, there's absolutely no way that everything is the same. And, even with all of the people gone, there's got to be something weird here."
"Firstly, ouch. Bold of you to assume that my work isn't perfect." He lifted his index finger as he playfully chided me. 
"What's the second thing?" I asked. 
"Secondly, aren't we enough of a 'thing'?" We were both here. That was weird, as far as timelines went. We were both alive and okay, regardless of how we had ended up here.
"Come on. Surely there's something weird here. Maybe they call tuna by some other weird name or maybe the movie Titanic doesn't exist here."
"Well, you're the only person here, so you can call tuna whatever you want. I may mock you if you choose something ridiculous, but that's entirely your choice. Also, I don't think that any movies have ever come out here." 
I watched his face as he spoke.
Goosebumps danced across my skin as I sat in the water. "I think I'm about to get out. The house is too cold to be in here." I said. 
He leaned forward and reached out his arms. In one smooth movement, he hauled me upward and he pulled me into his lap, making sure that my back was pressing into his chest. He leaned backwards, lifted his right thigh upward, and promptly placed me there. His other leg spread outward. His warm skin pressed into my back. I could feel the hard outline of muscles as I sat there. I squirmed.
"This isn't fair." I murmured. 
"Sure it is." 
"How do you figure?"
"I dragged you over here, fair and square." He smirked. He pressed a kiss to the back of my shoulder. I rolled my eyes as I turned to look at the window. Rain beat down against the empty city. Clouds drifted across the sky, leaving several patches visible. 
"The stars are different here." I said. 
"Hmm?"
"The stars." I lifted my hand upward. I pointed toward the window to show him what I meant. "Pegasus is supposed to be right there. It's gone. The only one there is Andromeda."
Andromeda. The chained woman. 
The irony was not lost upon me. 
My ring was my chain; Miguel my warden. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to take the ring off or to truly push him away.
He pressed another kiss against my back. This time, I could feel the stubble of his jaw scrape against my skin. 
"You're warm." I murmured. He smiled against my skin. 
"I'm glad." He gently sucked on the soft piece of skin. I gasped, feeling his fangs graze for a moment. Though, by the time the sound had left my lips, he had already pulled back. 
"Sorry." He said. He inspected his handiwork on my flesh, making sure that he had not broken the skin.
I glanced over my shoulder, watching him as he slid his fingers along the skin of my back. He was enjoying getting to touch me. He could still see the novelty in how new it was.
When he shifted under me, I felt the hard shape of his erection brush the back of my thigh.
Without thinking, I glanced over my shoulder again. I leaned backward, moving until my back touched his chest. I looked up at him. His eyes were warm and soft. 
"What?" He asked. Without a word, I kissed him. He sighed against my mouth, moving slowly and carefully. As he did, I felt a familiar want beginning to stir inside of me. Slowly, I pulled away from him. I then tried to move off of his leg and was mildly surprised when he didn't try to hold me down. Instead, I lifted my hips upward and began to rearrange myself in the water, moving so that one leg sat on either side of his hips. 
I slid my legs around his waist and then pushed myself closer to him. The bottom of the cast iron tub was slick beneath us. It was hard to arrange myself in the water, but somehow I managed. Miguel leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against my lips. As he did, I lifted my hands upward and grabbed his shoulders for leverage.
“Careful, careful.” Miguel said. He placed a hand on the curve of my back to make sure that I didn’t slip in the water. 
“Aww, so you can be nice.” 
I smiled as I slid my hands across his strong shoulders. I could feel all of the muscles flex under my fingertips. A soft smirk painted his lips. God, he was gorgeous. It wasn't fair for one person to look this perfect.
But, looking at him, he looked like he was bone tired.
He leaned in for another kiss, but I bobbed backward. He already looked clean enough; I wanted to tell him to get out of the water and go to bed.
"What's wrong?" He asked. He looked hard at my face, searching for something in my features. But, before I could speak, he followed it up with another question. "Are you scared of me?" He asked. 
"What?" It caught me off guard.
"You heard me. Are you?" 
A little bit. 
"I don't think you would hurt me." I said. It wasn’t a lie.
“I would never hurt you.” His hands drifted to my face. Gently, his traced his fingers along the curve of my jaw, taking in every feature. “But, are you scared of me?” 
I knew exactly what he was referring to. The eyes, the fangs, even the sheer size of him was intimidating. But, under all of that, he was still just Miguel. Even if he wasn’t my version of him, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. 
“No.” I said. He offered a faint smile that didn’t meet his eyes. He didn’t believe me, but he seemed grateful that I would be willing to tell him what he wanted. 
“I love you.” He said. 
“I love you, too.” He smiled at my words. I knew that it would make him happy to hear them. They were only three little words, yet they seemed to mean everything to him. 
As I watched his face, I couldn't help but notice how exhausted he looked.
"You look tired. You didn’t sleep last night. You haven’t slept any of the other nights, either. I woke up to go to the bathroom around four and you were still awake. " I said. 
“Yes, I did sleep.”
“I saw you… Please just be honest with me.”
“Aren’t I always?”
“No, you never are.” He rolled his eyes at the accusation. “Why don’t you ever sleep?” I asked. Rain continued its assault on the roof, growing louder as the storm reached its peak.
“I usually can’t.” Thunder rolled so loud that I looked toward the window. 
“Bad dreams.” A dark tendril of hair fell across his forehead. I reached forward and gently brushed it out of the way. 
“About what?”
He shook his head before he pressed another kiss against my lips. That was his way of changing the conversation. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to talk about it.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered. His hand snaked between our naked bodies. Without hesitation, he grazed my clit with the pad of one of his fingers.
I gasped at the sudden touch. But, I didn’t move away. His index finger swirled over the bundle of nerves, forcing my toes to curl. I inched my body closer to him, begging for him not to stop. 
He rubbed faster and faster. I could feel myself getting closer to finishing. Miguel watched me with a burning intensity; his eyes were dark lust as he worked. I ground my hips against his fingers, feeling the pleasure beginning to grow in my lower stomach.
Suddenly, it overtook me. I gasped and almost fell forward from how suddenly a blinding warmth shot through me. Each touch was too much; it felt like I was on fire. Miguel caught me before I could tumble off of his body. He held me as I twitched on top of him, spasming from his gentle touches.
As I began to drift back down from the orgasm, I could feel his cock as it lay against his stomach. He was painfully hard. Every time I would bob a little too far forward in the water, I would brush into it, feeling just how desperate he was. 
“I think it’s time to call it a night.” I whispered.
“You don’t want to stay in here with me, sweetheart?” His voice was velvety and sweet; his little nickname for me was lined with lust.
“No, because I’m not on birth control. You’re going to end up knocking me up.” I said it partially as a joke. 
He didn’t laugh.
Oh.
“Miguel.”
“We have children in every universe.” He said it so softly and calmly that it was as if he was saying the sun was yellow and the sky was blue. It simply was the way of the universe; it was how things were and always would be. 
“We didn’t in mine.” I said.
“Because he died. Besides, it wasn’t for a lack of trying.” My face turned bright red. There was something in the way that he said the last part that raised a suspicion I hadn't had before.
“Were you ever watching?” I asked. 
“Not from outside of the window or anything like that, but I did catch… glimpses in your timeline.”
“Miguel!”
“I was working!” He defended himself. “I never watched went out of my way to watch you two when you were… intimate. The only times that I ever spied on you were when you were alone.”
“What do you mean when I was alone?” I remembered the photos of me that I had found in the box. 
“When he was at work and I thought something would happen to you; when I was worried about you.”
He was telling the truth, at least as far as I could tell. 
“Why didn’t you ever spy on him and I?” I asked. I expected him to say that he respected me too much to do that. Then again, he treated me like a pet, so it was rather questionable how much he respected me.
“Jealousy, mostly.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve been alone for a long time, sweetheart. He had you and he was always working; he was always gone.” He said.
“You’re always gone, too.” He frowned at the statement. 
Maybe all of the versions of him truly were the same. Based on how he winced, he seemed to be considering that fact.
“He couldn’t protect you because he was never there.” He said.
“Nothing happened to me. There was nothing to protect me from.” 
“But there could have been.” He was obsessed with the idea that I was fragile. Which, I mean, compared to him, I was. But he still didn’t have to be this worried. 
He was haunted by the idea of me dying and obsessed with the idea of saving me. Maybe it was to make up for his past failures.
“I’ve lost you in countless timelines. I could never risk it.” He winced. “But, you’re here now and you’re safe. You’ll always be mine and I’ll always be yours.” He said. We belonged to each other, whenever or wherever we were. The notion both charmed and chilled me. But, one of those feelings quickly won over the other. Or maybe it was just the lingering effects of the previous orgasm.
“Do you want me?” I asked. I was hoping to sound sexy; I just sounded pathetic. 
“More than anything.” 
I leaned forward and gently grabbed his cock. He groaned, lifting his hips  upward so that I could have better access. I slid my hand up and down several times before I moved my body closer to him. As I moved, he held onto me, making sure that I didn’t slip in the tub. I carefully lined him up with my entrance, feeling another wave of want wash through me. I curled one arm around his shoulder. 
“Ready?” He asked. I nodded quickly as I clung to him.
I whimpered when he slid inside. My fingers dug into his shoulders. He groaned as he sunk all the way in. I felt my body stretch, trying to accommodate him. 
After a moment, I pushed my legs into the tub and lifted myself upward. He curled one arm around my waist, watching me in wonder and awe as I slid down again, making us both groan. 
I lifted one hand off of his shoulder. His body had been through enough tonight. I didn't want to risk the one-in-a-million chance that I grabbed onto a sore spot. I gripped the cold edge of the tub to balance myself. But, just as suddenly as I had placed it there, it was pulled off. Miguel pulled my hand into his, lacing our fingers together. 
He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against my lips. I smiled, giving into his mouth. The kiss was brief; it was broken when I gasped against him mouth, feeling a warm pleasure begin to grow inside of me.
I bounced my hips, feeling him hit deep with every movement. I moaned. My stomach was beginning to tighten. 
He tightened his hold on my hand. One of his fingers brushed over the ring that I was still wearing.
I was his. I belonged to him. 
As if he could read my mind, he pressed his lips against mine again. 
When he pulled away, he said "Open your eyes."
I did as told. My eyes met his as I slid downward on his cock. Then, before my body could meet his, he thrusted upward, making me gasp.
"Keep looking at me." He said. I nodded as I lifted my hips upward. He groaned, quickly burying himself deep inside of me. He wanted to watch the way my face twitched with pleasure when he fucked me. He wanted to see what he did to me; what power he had over me.
I tightened my hold on his hand. If he was a normal man, I was sure I would have accidentally broken one of his fingers from how hard I was gripping him. 
I lifted my hips, then brought them down on him just as he slammed inside of me. We did it over and over again, forcing out gasps and moans from each other. 
“Miguel, I’m close! Don’t stop!” I moaned. I was so damn close. I could feel the tightening in my lower stomach every time he sheathed himself inside of me.
Then, all at once, I felt a wave of heat wash over me.
I gasped, clenching around him as I came undone. Pleasure coursed through my body, making my toes curl and my head fall back. Miguel pressed a kiss to the base of my throat as he hammered inside of me, not stopping his pace.
After a moment, he let out a low groan. He moaned my name and I was suddenly very aware of the warm fluid that filled me. It was leaking down my upper thighs and into the water around us.
The pleasure began to fade away. I gasped, trying to catch the breath that I had been holding. Miguel smiled and leaned back against the tub, his body tired and spent. A mixture of sweat and water glistened against his skin. 
It was around three in the morning. I could feel the exhaustion beginning to sink into my bones.
I moved to climb off of him, but just as he had last time, he held me in place. One hand held my hips in place, pinning me on top of him. I sighed, giving up any notion of fighting. It was useless; his grip was ironclad.
"Let me hold you... just for a little while." His voice was soft. His other hand drifted to the curve of my back. He pulled me forward, moving me until my chest lay against his. 
"I'm tired." I murmured. 
"I know, sweetheart."
I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. I could hear his heart in my ear. Its strumming was low and steady. His skin was warm. "I missed you." he said. 
I wasn't sure if he was talking to me directly, or some distant memory of me. But I would take what I could get. 
"I missed you, too." 
He pressed a gentle kiss against my damp hair. Outside, lightning cut across the sky. 
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@levisbebe @amplsblog​ @spider-biter​ @taleiak​ @ladyfairenvale​ (I tried to tag everyone who asked! I’m sorry if I missed you!)
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cupid-styles · 7 months
Text
silk (grumpy!h)
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in which harry is grumpy with everyone except y/n, and he realizes he's never been so enamored with someone in his life.
word count: 5.9k
content warnings: smut!!
author's notes: last part of grumpy h! thank you sm for all the love on this series, I love these two<3 lmk if you'd like to see any blurbs or one-shots for them!!!
part one | part two
masterlist | talk to me
From: H🌷
My friends want to meet you. Would you be willing to come out with us tonight?
Y/N reads over Harry's most recent text for the fourth time in 10 minutes. If she's being honest, the resounding answer is no, she has no desire to go out with Harry and his friends. But she also knows that they've been spending a lot of time together lately and he's been skipping out on hangouts and evenings out, so it only makes sense that his friends want to meet the girl he's constantly ditching them for.
She sighs, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, and types out an answer she wouldn't give to anyone else.
sure.. when and where?
It's only a minute or so before Harry replies. She shuts her laptop, knowing that the attention streak she has on her outline for literature theory is out the window, especially with the prospect of meeting Harry's friends in the near future. 
I'll come get you and we can go to the bar together at 9:30, if that works for you. I know this is probably overwhelming for you so please don't stress, sweetheart. They're going to love you.
Her heart skips a beat. Sweetheart. That's a new development since that evening a few weeks ago, when she disclosed the story of how she lost her virginity. Since then, it seems like boundaries had carefully been crossed, but neither one of them minded. Pet names fell easily from Harry's lips. When they were together, they were almost always touching, whether it be warm cuddles on the couch or holding hands on the walk out of the English department. 
Y/N doesn't know what they are — she knows that Harry has some record of dating and sleeping around, and it doesn't seem like that's what they're doing, but she can't help but fear that that's what it is. She always manages to shove those anxieties down when they're together so they don't accidentally come out in an embarrassing stream of consciousness. 
okay, that works, she eventually types back, i'll try not to worry too much.. what should i wear?
Y/N has to smush her face in her pillows to avoid squealing at his answer.
Anything you would normally wear is perfect. You'll look beautiful no matter what.
. . .
Harry will never admit it out loud, but he's so excited for Y/N to finally meet his friends. 
Niall, Mitch, and Pauli have been on Harry's back about constantly being out of the house and not hanging out with them. They're all quite needy, really, but they're his best friends and housemates, so he doesn't fault their curiosity. Especially because they've noticed his happier-than-usual demeanor, which says a lot, considering he usually walks around with a permanent scowl on his face.
So when he invites Y/N to come out with them tonight, he's fully expecting her to say no and he's shocked when she doesn't. He can practically feel her nerves through their text thread but he's over the moon that's pushing past her anxiety for his stupid friends. For him.
When he arrives at her place, she's overanalyzing every aspect of her outfit. It makes him smile, the way she cares so much, but he takes her concerns as seriously as he can.
"Are you sure this is good enough, H?" she asks, walking back over to the floor length mirror. She's wearing a pair of light wash mom jeans and a lacey white tank top, her makeup subtle with smudgy brown eyeliner and pink highlights.
"Baby," Harry murmurs, strolling up behind her and pressing a hand to her hip, "You look absolutely gorgeous. There's nothing to stress about."
She flushes instantly and squeezes her thighs at his touch. She spins to face him, a pout on her lips. 
"I just wanna make a good impression. I don't want your friends to think you're hanging out with some—"
"Whatever you're about to call yourself, it's not true." Harry cuts her off, squeezing her hip. "Now c'mon, Niall gets testy whenever someone's late."
"Fine." Y/N grumbles, grabbing her bag and cardigan. She follows Harry out of her apartment, both of them stopping to bid Ginger a quick goodbye before locking the door and walking out to his car.
"Do you mind if I come back with you tonight?" Harry asks, intertwining their fingers together on the short trek to his sedan. "Feel like I barely saw you this week."
Y/N smiles, looking up at him as they walk. "You saw me yesterday in class and after at grading, silly."
"Yeah, but that was professional time. Couldn't hold you or anything." 
She giggles as they approach his car, getting in on the passenger's side and buckling herself in. Harry does the same and starts the vehicle, reaching over to place a hand over her thigh as he pulls out of the parking spot. 
"Yeah, you can sleepover tonight, H."
"Whoa, who said anything about staying over, darling? Think you're getting a bit presumptuous—"
Y/N rolls her eyes and cuts him off with a light swat to the chest, "You've stayed over tons!"
He laughs, his eyes crinkling the way that always makes Y/N's heart feel like it's about to burst. 
"Just like teasing you, pretty baby."
. . .
Harry's friends are actually quite nice.
They have a clear connection, easy-going and kind, that makes it easy for Y/N to sink into without giving too much weight to her worries. When her and Harry walk in, the blonde one immediately waves them over with a huge grin and a half-full glass of Guinness in his hand.
"H! You're late!" 
Harry rolls his eyes and grumbles out some insult, his palm flat against the small of Y/N's back. She wants to hide behind his towering figure to avoid being the center of attention, but he gently pushes her towards the tabletop to introduce her.
"Heathens... this is Y/N. Y/N, these are my housemates, Mitch, Niall, and Pauli," Harry announces, giving her side a small, comforting squeeze. "Be nice to her or I will put hair removal in all of your shampoos. Especially yours, Mitch."
The long-haired one — Mitch, Y/N presumes — instantly puts his hands up in defense. "Why would I be anything but nice? Niall here is the one that's five beers in."
"Shut up, I'm nothing but sweet when I'm drunk!" Niall exclaims, his voice booming over the soundtrack of other patron's conversations and some random rock station. "Hi Y/N, it's nice to meet you. Tell me, how did you manage to sweeten grumpy Harry here? He's usually so—"
"Niall," The last one, Pauli, Y/N thinks, warns, a protective arch in his eyebrow as he cuts his chatty friend off. "We're so happy you decided to join us, Y/N. It's nice to finally put a face to the name."
"Alright, you guys have caused enough chaos," Harry steers the conversation away, tugging Y/N closer to his side, "We're gonna go get drinks."
Harry knows Y/N doesn't drink very often and he doubts she'll get anything tonight, but he can feel her clamping up from the attention.
"Y'okay?" he asks, leaning down slightly to catch the shell of her ear. She shivers at the low tone of his voice, biting her lip as she looks up at him.
"Mhm. They're nice, H." 
He smiles and moves his arm up to wrap around her shoulders. "I know they're a bit much. I appreciate you being here, though. Promise we won't stay too long."
"It's okay," Y/N giggles at his overprotectiveness, though her heart swoons as she tucks herself into his chest. "They're special to you and that's important." 
Harry's grin only widens, showcasing his dimples and the cute eye wrinkles Y/N loves.
"You're special to me. That's why I wanted them to meet you."
Y/N doesn't know how to reply without squealing so she just blushes and buries her head into his shoulder, a warm chuckle vibrating from the depths of his chest.
. . .
"Yeah, and that's how Harry ended up having to sneak Niall out of the emergency room at 3 in the morning." 
Despite Niall's already red face, his cheeks turn a deep crimson at the end of Pauli's story. Harry and his friends erupt in a series of laughs as Y/N looks up at the curly haired brunette curled around her form, his arm slung casually around her shoulders. The PDA initially made her heart thumb noisily in her chest, but she couldn't help herself as she snuggled further into his side, his scent and warmth radiating instant comfort. 
"Yeah, yeah, you lot think you're so funny," Niall grumbles before lifting his pint to his mouth. 
"That's 'cos we are, Ni," Harry smirks, "Anyway... it's been fun, but I think we're gonna head out." 
Y/N's heart squeezes at him saying we're, like they're some sort of collective. She has to roll her lips into her mouth to stop a smile from curling onto her face. 
"Ah, you guys aren't gonna come back to the house?" Pauli asks with a pout. 
"Let them live," Mitch interjects, nudging Pauli's ribs, "H is happy for the first time, like, ever." 
"Alright!" Harry exclaims, clapping his hands together as Y/N's lips part in surprise. Was he seriously that noticeably happy? Because of... no, it couldn't be because of her. That would be silly. "Y/N, you about ready?"
She nods and slides out of the booth behind Harry. "It was really nice to meet you all," she says with a polite smile, hugging her bag closer to her side as Harry heads up to the bar to settle his tab. "Thanks for having me."
"Oh, of course!" Niall grins. "Just make sure Harry wraps it up tonight, we all know he's been around—"
"Niall, you're cut off!" Mitch is quick to snatch the beer glass out of Niall's hand just as Y/N's face warms, insecurities suddenly brewing deep in her body. She knew of Harry's reputation, but if his friends assumed they were sleeping together already... was there something wrong with her? 
Thankfully, she doesn't have to stumble over an awkward response because Harry's already reappeared, not even bothering to question why Niall's whining. 
"'Kay, see you lot later. Get home safe." 
He slings an arm around Y/N's shoulders and she gives a half-hearted wave as he guides them out of the crowded bar. She feels a sense of relief when the cool air hits her skin, the weather finally feeling fully autumnal as October nudges in. Harry notices her involuntary shiver and holds her closer, giving her shoulders a squeeze as they approach his car.
"You did so good tonight," he murmurs, glancing down at her proudly. "How do you feel?"
"Good." she lies, a tight smile on her face. "I can drive, you had a few drinks, hm?"
Harry nods and digs his keys out of the pocket of his jeans, handing them to Y/N. She clears her throat as she unlocks the vehicle, both of them climbing in wordlessly.
"Was it too much socialization? I can go home if you want to be by yourself." 
Y/N's heart squeezes at his words as she turns the key in the ignition. It's silly to her that a month ago, she dreaded being alone with Harry and now, she can't even find it in her to be upset with him. 
"No, I want you to come back with me." 
Y/N is rarely assertive in her words, let alone her plans with Harry. Even when she does miss him and wants to see him, she'll send him a picture of Ginger being cute, and he'll reply with some iteration of "can I come over?"
So she swallows harshly after blurting the words out, thankfully missing the way Harry's eyes widen slightly. And he can tell that something's up — she's grasping the steering wheel tightly and won't stop chewing on her bottom lip, a nervous habit of hers that was easy to pick up on — and he mentally curses at his friends, hoping that they didn't say something idiotic to make her overthink anything.
He doesn't say anything until she's pulling into a spot outside of her apartment. As she's about to turn the car off, his hand grasps at her thigh, her eyes flying to his face. It's dark, so he can't see much of her facial expression, but he can tell by the slight crinkle in her eyebrow that she's nervous.
"What's wrong, sweet girl?" Harry asks gently, circling his thumb over her knee. "Did something happen at the bar? Did they say something?"
She shakes her head quickly, "No, of course not. They were really nice, H, I had a good time. Can we just go upstairs?"
"What's the rush?" he presses, trying to catch her low gaze. "Are you tired? Wanna go to bed?"
"Not tired," she mutters and lets out a frustrated sigh. The quiet hum of Harry's car fills the silence, but it's not enough to tear his attention away from the anxious girl in front of him. "I just... why haven't you tried to sleep with me?"
Embarrassment floods her entire body as Harry's eyebrows shoot up. Immediately, she feels ridiculous and wants to take it back.
"That was really dumb of me. I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. I didn't even drink, I just—"
"Y/N," Harry says lowly, giving her knee a squeeze, "What did they say?"
"Nothing! Niall just said... well, when you were paying, he told me to make sure you, y'know, 'wrap it up' and I realized that, like, you haven't even tried to kiss me! And you call me these sweet names and we cuddle and hang out all the time and I don't know, I thought maybe you liked me but I understand I could be wrong and misinterpreting everything."
She's exasperated and Harry thinks it's adorable, but he hates that he could ever question his intentions with her. He notices that her hands are trembling and he sighs, shaking his head. 
"First of all, Niall is an absolute idiot so never take anything he says seriously," he replies, taking her hands into his. He stuffs them underneath the soft fabric of his cardigan, trying to warm them up. "I... I know I have some sort of reputation on campus and you've seen me do some things I'm not proud of, but that was never the case with you. I wanted to take my time with you and go slow, especially because of your history. I like you, Y/N. So much. You didn't misinterpret anything."
She swallows nervously and if he didn't have her hands held captive in his fuzzy yellow sweater, she'd be fidgeting anxiously, picking at the her nails. Her face is far too warm for her liking, her heart jumping for joy in her chest as she replays his words over and over again. I like you. So much.
"I like you, too," she finally peeps out, clearing her throat, "I'm sorry I assumed differently. I didn't mean to be dramatic."
"Not dramatic, love. I understand why you got nervous," he murmurs, smiling gently. "Can I kiss you, then? If you like me back?"
It's overwhelming for Y/N — she feels like she's about to kiss her second grade crush, but only because of the flocks of butterflies invading her stomach, shaky hands, and an inability to croak out an answer, instead just nodding her head. Harry chuckles at that, and she's grateful for the way he's able to easily read her. 
It's not the most romantic kiss Harry's ever had, but that's only because they're parked outside of Y/N's house in his car. If it weren't for the way he has to lean over the middle console to catch her lips in a lock, he would swear it's absolutely perfect. 
Simultaneously, Y/N realizes that kissing Harry feels like coming home. 
She's only ever felt this way when she's, quite literally, returned to her childhood home after hellish months away at college as an undergrad. The way the interior of the space always smelled like balsam and freshly baked cookies, warm lights twinkling on the Christmas tree, her mom hugging her tightly and murmuring in her ear, "it's okay, you're home now."
She tastes twinges of beer as their lips meld together, his musky vanilla cologne invading her senses and making her melt. It's all so good, like being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, drinking hot chocolate during a snowstorm, carving pumpkins while you eat those Halloween sugar cookies from childhood. 
If she didn't have to break away to breathe, she thinks she could kiss Harry for an eternity. 
Harry is clearly more experienced in the kissing department than she is, but he doesn't tease her for needing a break. He just smiles softly as she quietly pants with spit swollen lips, her eyes darting between his own raspberry mouth and the inviting jade of his eyes.
"You're good at that." Y/N breathes, and he chuckles, letting out his own deep breath. 
"Do you wanna go inside, sweetheart?" Harry asks gently, his voice quiet, "I really wanna keep kissing you, but maybe not in my car." 
"Yes, please."
He laughs louder at that, giving her thigh one more squeeze as she pulls the car key from the ignition. It's nearing midnight so it's far chillier now, goosebumps immediately forming over Y/N's arms. It's a race to her front door from there, her eagerly unlocking it and kicking her shoes off, Harry following closely behind. 
Ginger is tucked into herself, snoozing steadily in the little cat bed Harry bought her a few weeks back. He'd immediately admitted that it was an impulsive purchase, claiming that he simply couldn't resist. 
"Do you want anything to drink?" Y/N asks, hanging her bag and keys on the hooks in her entryway.
"'M okay," Harry mumbles, plopping down on the couch. He sheds his upper body of his cardigan and Y/N swallows as it leaves him in a plain white tee-shirt, contrasting the inky swirls on his arms beautifully. "Relax, baby. Come sit with me."
Y/N nods and walks over to him submissively, her socks padding across the plushy expanse of her carpet.
"Do you wanna sit on my lap?" he asks softly, reaching out to intertwine their fingers together. "You can say no. We're going at your speed."
"No, I do." she says quickly, not wanting him to suspect an inkling of hesitance. She'll admit, she's nervous, but it's not because she's uncomfortable. If anything, Harry is still so intimidating in this regard, and she feels like a fumbling mess in comparison. 
He's gentle in his movements, guiding her body down to his and helping her straddle his waist. It's not inherently sexual, despite the fact that her thighs split readily, their cores pressed together and separated by layers of clothing. 
He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady, her hands automatically finding his broad shoulders. 
"Can we keep kissing?" Y/N peeps out. A lopsided grin appears on Harry's face, making her own warm. 
"Course, honey. Keep kissing me."
She's anxious about the prospect of her leaning in to kiss him, worried that she's doing something wrong, but the nerves instantly melt away the second their lips reconnect. This kiss is less hesitant, a slow stream of confidence beginning to radiate from Y/N's actions. She fists his tee-shirt in her hands as she presses her chest against his, Harry's tongue gently probing her mouth. She opens readily, happy to allow him.
Harry's surprised by her sudden eagerness but welcomes it. He can feel his cock starting to plump beneath them, but he hopes she doesn't notice it as she squeezes her thighs around his waist. He doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, wanting nothing more to prioritize her own wants tonight. 
"Baby," Harry breathes, breaking their kiss and nudging his nose against hers, "Baby, hold on a sec, wanna talk to you." 
She hums and blinks her eyes open. "'bout what?" she asks, licking over her swollen lips.
"Do you know what you want to do tonight? If anything?" 
Y/N swallows. She definitely hadn't thought that far. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about sex with Harry at all, but she was so over the moon with knowing that he liked her that she couldn't think past it.
He squeezes her hip, bringing her back down and out of her thoughts. Swallowing, she parts her lips nervously before licking over them. 
"I'm not really sure," she admits, adjusting out of awkwardness but accidentally brushing against Harry's cock, "I... I know I want you. Closer."
"Okay, that's a good start," he murmurs. He tries not to let his facade crack, but he's in shambles over how sweet she's being. If it were up to him, he'd devour her whole, but he has restraint — even if she's unintentionally testing them. "How close do you want to be, honey?" 
"More than this."
Harry chuckles and nods, reaching up to run his hand through his hair. "You're killing me, y'know that?"
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to do anything."
"That's the problem." 
His smirk makes her blush and she stares down at her hands, wringing them together in their laps. Gently, he tucks his hand underneath her chin, bringing her eyes back up to his. 
"You're doing perfectly, sweetheart. I just want to make sure that we're doing everything you want. I want this to be a good experience for you."
She calms slightly at that and Harry feels her body relax. "It already is a good experience, H, it's you."
"You're too cute," he mumbles with a shake of his head, tilting his head to press featherlight kisses along her jaw, "Too fuckin' cute."
He lowers down to her neck, entirely too intoxicated by the scent of her vanilla perfume and the feel of her soft skin against his lips. He could spend the entire night planting kisses across every inch of her body, he thinks, but he knows they'd both be too needy to let him finish that ask.
"Inside," Y/N suddenly breathes out, a gasp falling from pillowy lips as he nips as a sensitive spot, "Want you inside, please."
"Fingers?" Harry guesses, suckling gently to create the faintest of marks.
"No, no. You."
Harry's eyes snap open at her admittance, blinking owlishly as he processes her request. Did she... was she asking—
"Please, Harry, I— I know you want to take it slow but it's been months and I want it, I'm sure of it, please—"
He hushes her with a firm kiss to the lips. Her trembling hands reach up to fist at his messy curls and he can feel her getting progressively more desperate, pink-hued smoke clouding her typically shy demeanor. 
"It's okay, baby, I got you," he murmurs against her mouth, squeezing at her hip. "I'll take care of you, alright? If that's what you really want."
"I do, H, please."
Harry can't take a second more of her pleading and he thinks if he denied her again, she'd be down at her knees groveling. (He has to quickly push that image out of his brain, knowing it'll only send him further into a tizzy.) She mumbles out consent as he plucks at the button of her jeans, nudging her to sit up so he can pull the denim down her legs. He tries not to groan at the sight of a tiniest wet patch seeping through the fabric of her light blue underwear but fails miserably, pressing his forehead to her clavicle in frustration.
"What's wrong?" Y/N asks, pausing their haphazard movements to take in his facial expression.
"You're gonna kill me," he repeats his sentiment from earlier, "You're just fucking adorable and hot without even realizing it and it's taking everything in me not to completely ruin you."
Harry glances up at her to see her rounded eyes and plushy lips, gasps parting from the muted pink hue of her mouth. 
"What if I want you to ruin me?"
He shakes his head and tightens his squeeze on her hips. He lays her back down against the couch and spreads her legs, kneeling to thumb at the dampened patch between her thighs.
"You need to shut up. You don't know what you're asking for, Y/N."
"Tell me then," she eggs him on, squirming as he begins to draw small circles into her covered clit, "You've always taken care of me, why would this be any different?"
"Because you're different," he mutters tightly, his large hands finding the expanse of her ribs and pushing her shirt upwards to reveal her lacy bralette, "I don't want to treat you like any other person I've been with. You don't deserve that."
She whimpers when he bucks up against her lower half, his jean-covered bulge nudging at the place she needs him most. 
"Show me what I deserve, then. Please." 
"That," Harry says, undoing his pants and tossing them off to the side, "I can absolutely do."
It's a mess of kisses and touching from then, eager to feel one another without any additional clothing in the way. She's naturally submissive, Harry finds, but he's not surprised at that in the slightest. He'd assumed that from the first day they met, though he'd never imagined that he would be the one nipping at her skin, licking and sucking her nipples, and pressing kisses down her stomach and over her mound, taking his time to inhale her sweet scent.
Y/N's all but gagging for it now but he refuses to go any further without stretching her out, knowing that it's been five years since she's last slept with someone. She's wet — dripping, really, from her pulsating hole down to her ass, and he wants to press his tongue flat against her lips, suckling every last bit up, but he's a man on a mission. Plus, he knows he'll cum on the spot the second he wiggles his tongue inside, and that's not part of tonight's plan.
Instead, he's able to fit three fingers inside of her, but it admittedly takes a lengthy amount of pumping, scissoring, and pressing up against the spongy spot inside of her that makes her moan especially loud. She's squeezing his fingers so tightly, her hole contracting every time he uses his thumb and swipe over her clit. 
"You— please, Harry, I'm ready, I can't— can't take anymore." 
He looks up to see the prettiest, most desperate looking angel with baby hairs matted to her forehead, her chest warm and splotchy. Beads of sweat are dripping down her thighs and her mascara has smudged below her lower lash line, making her look beyond fucked out. 
"Okay," Harry nods, withdrawing his fingers carefully, "Okay, baby. Lemme just grab a condom."
He probably looks ridiculous as he scurries over to his pants to grab his wallet, digging to grab the condom he'd stuffed in there the day after he decided he really liked Y/N. She doesn't say anything as he peels his briefs down, revealing his painfully hard cock slapping up against his lower stomach, pre-cum beading at the slit. 
He rolls the condom on and shuffles between her thighs, pumping himself a few times to relieve just some of the pressure. Their eyes are glued to one another's in an intense, lusty stare-off.
"You're sure, lovie?" Harry asks, massaging her inner thighs carefully, "You can change your mind at any time. Even if I put it in and it hurts, you can tell me."
"I trust you," she replies softly, her throat already sore from nearly a half an hour of teasing. "I know it's gonna hurt a little... but you'll get me through it, right?"
His heart breaks a bit at her need for reassurance, nodding his head quickly. He adores this sweet girl beneath him, nothing meaning more to him than her implicit trust in his care.
"Of course I will. Just keep communicating with me, okay?"
She nods and he shuffles up to her core, stroking his cock twice more before stretching his body over her. He presses a kiss to her forehead, then down to her nose, and finally to her lips. 
"I'm gonna start putting it in." 
It's... a stretch, a big one at that. Y/N initially winces at the pain and Harry's head snaps up, halting his movements, but she shakes her head quickly, encouraging him to continue. He slows down, slowly moving centimeter by centimeter until her breathing starts to even out. When he finally bottoms out, she feels like she's absolutely stuffed to the brim, but in the best way possible. 
"Are you alright, honey?" Harry asks quietly, leaning up to brush a few hairs out of her eyes.
"Yes," Y/N murmurs, swallowing harshly, "I... I feel like you've always been meant to be here, H."
His eyes well up slightly, not only because it's the sweetest thing she could've possibly said in this moment, but because he feels that way, too. He's never felt such a connection with someone before on both a physical and emotional level and he knows right then and there, Y/N is the person that's meant to be his.
"You're incredible," he says, beginning slow, shallow thrusts, "You're everything I could've ever wanted, Y/N. This is... you're perfect."
"Oh," Y/N breathes when Harry's hips snap up against hers, the tip of his cock pressing against the spongey spot deep inside of her, "That's... you're so deep."
He groans at her widened eyes, shutting his own to prevent himself from bursting early just from her cute reactions. She feels better than he ever could have imagined the many times he fucked his fist, thinking of how warm and sweet she'd be beneath him.  
"Faster, please," she mewls, her jaw falling slack at his continued assault on her g-spot. 
"Yeah? Need me to go faster, honey?"
She nods vehemently and he smiles gently, beginning to quicken his pace. She loves the way he's hovering over her, closer than they've ever been before, invading all of her senses. She hooks her ankles around his waist and he groans at the small sign of initiative. 
"Can I make you cum on my cock, sweetheart?" Harry asks through a tight jaw, feeling his balls start to tighten as they bump up against her ass. 
"P-please," she nods, her hair a mess from Harry thrusting her into the mess of throw pillows on her couch. She's made herself finish tons of times before, but only with her own fingers and the occasional smutty book as inspiration. With Harry in her life, she'll admit that she's been hornier than ever before, always finding a sodden mess in her underwear after hanging out together. (It even happens when they spend time grading in Donnolly's office when she watches his jaw flex, gum between his teeth. The thought is enough to make her shudder.)
But with Harry finally stroking at the spots inside of her that had been neglected for years, it doesn't take much to get close to her peak. She's never felt so full before, and it's making her pussy squeeze over him in steady pulses, eliciting a grunt deep from Harry's chest.
"Can you rub your little clit for me?" Harry asks, leaning back on his heels to watch himself pump in and out of her hole. "Jus' need to see the way you touch yourself, baby... know you do, hm? My girl has a naughty side, doesn't she?"
Y/N nods her head, trailing her fingertips down the length of her body and to the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs. She moans loudly as she applies a bit of pressure, pinching at it. Harry's eyes are immediately glued to her fingertips, pausing his movements momentarily to spit, landing squarely on her clit. 
"Oh god," she moans, partially from shock at his boldness. She rubs his saliva in, circling the nub it small, tight circles. 
"That's my girl," Harry repeats, his hands finding the back of her thighs to spread her legs a bit further apart, "So good, baby, so fuckin' good for me."
"H-harry, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum—"
He grunts as he feels her hole contracting around his cock, gushes of arousal seeping out between them. 
"There you go," Harry encourages, slamming into her, watching her eyes squeeze shut and shudders coil through her body. Her fingers tremble around her clit as she orgasms violently around him, squeezing so tightly that he nearly slips out. 
The image of her coming below him after imagining it for so long is enough to send him into his own orgasm. He spurts warm and hot ropes into the condom, filling it up so much that as the intensity begins to wear off, he worries that some of it will seep out from the rubber confides. He pulls out just to the tip to make sure, his cock still twitching in aftershocks. 
"S-slow, please," Y/N stutters and he nods, shushing her softly.
"I know baby, I'm sorry, just gotta make sure we're all... cleaned up down here."
He'd filled the condom nearly to the brim, but thankfully, it's not enough to ooze out. He takes gentle fingertips to the insides of her thighs, where her legs meet her core, softly running them up and down as he fully withdraws. 
"I'll be right back, honey. Just stay here, 'kay?" 
She mumbles out some affirmative answer and he chuckles, stumbling to her bathroom to toss the condom and clean himself up. He wets a washcloth and walks back out to the living room, Y/N's body still strewn across the length of her couch. He kneels down to face her swollen pussy, swallowing at the sight, ignoring the urge to continue playing with her. He knows she's exhausted based on her silence and wouldn't be able to take a second longer of stimulation. Instead, he gingerly cleans her up with the warm cloth.
"Do you feel okay?" Harry asks softly as he rises back up to his feet, grabbing his briefs and slipping them back on, "Was all of that alright?"
With tired eyes, Y/N smiles gently, nodding once. "It was perfect, Harry."
. . .
From: H🌷
Running late to class this morning, they made your latte with almond milk instead of oat
To: H🌷
h!! u didn't have to have them remake it, that would've been fine!
From: H🌷
You never get almond milk and you would've never even told me if you didn't like it. I can afford to be a few minutes late if it means you're happy.
Also, may or may not have bought Ginger another toy at the grocery store on my way home from yours last night. 
Sitting in her usual seat at the front of the lecture hall, Y/N has to roll her lips into her mouth to avoid a massive grin from breaking out onto her face. She busies herself with scribbling notes in her planner as she waits for Donnolly to begin class, her nose stuck in her calendar as Harry enters the room with just a minute to spare. 
She's admiring her new collection of sparkly gel pens when he plops down next to her, pushing her iced latte towards her. 
"Morning." he greets with a grin, leaning down to press a kiss to her hair. 
"H," Y/N whines with a blush, biting her lip at the small display of affection. 
"Shush, I know."
She giggles as she takes a sip of her coffee, the familiar taste of vanilla and espresso coating her tongue. 
"Thank you, by the way. I appreciate that you do this for me."
"'course, baby," Harry smiles, leaning back in his chair with his cup of black coffee. "Missed you."
"You saw me last night, silly."
"Yeah, but you wouldn't let me sleep over so you could do homework." he teases lightly, tucking his black sunglasses into the collar of his tee-shirt.
"Mhmm, but since you let me get that done, you can stay over tonight."
"Thank god."
She laughs and shakes her head at his dramatics as Donnolly claps her hands together, her signature announcement that class was beginning. Y/N glances over to the curly haired brunette next to her, who playfully widens his eyes at her. Again, she has to bite her lip to prevent herself from grinning even more.
She's not sure when her fellow TA, a grumpy, mean boy who only wears black became the best thing in her life, but she couldn't be happier that it happened.
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wttcsms · 1 year
Text
for the last time ; simon “ghost” riley.
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pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader word count 2k synopsis simon is greeted by an image that haunts him the most: you, completely still and no longer breathing.   content contains death mentions, mentions of blood, slight angst, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, pregnant!reader, the two of you are married, obsessive!ghost notes takes place in the same timeline/au as this fic! ; title is inspired by miss taylor swift’s line in ‘anti-hero’ (stream midnights, btw) where it goes “i wake up screaming from dreaming one day i’ll watch as you’re leaving and life will lose all its meaning for the last time”, so do what you will with that information! 
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Is it possible to be so afraid that you can taste the fear on your tongue?
Simon Riley finds himself questioning this as he takes one step further into his home — your home, the empty residence that has never known warmth in between its walls until the first time you graced them with your presence — the foyer eerily quiet.
Usually, you have the TV playing in the background for company when he’s away. Maybe none of the shows airing were to your liking; that’s fine, he reasons. There’s no need to panic. No need for his heart to bang against its ribcage barrier, almost as if it’s trying to break free to search for you itself.
The house is dark, but after years of tactical operations held in worse places, his eyes easily adjust to take in these familiar surroundings. His eyes dart around the room, looking for any sign of trouble. He doesn’t know whether he should be relieved or not to find nothing out of the ordinary.
He moves quickly through the house, searching for any sign of you that he can. You’re not a quiet person — not when you’re in the comfort of your shared home, not when you know that you’re safe to live as freely as you want because Ghost will always see to it.
When he put that ring on your finger, he had promised to always keep you safe. Even before it, you were always going to be under his protection, and ever the honorable soldier (and lovesick fool), it’s a promise that he intends on keeping.
When he doesn’t hear the familiar sounds of you humming in the kitchen or the running water of your hot showers, he starts to feel the panic rising in his chest. It’s fine. You’re fine. He’s a rational thinker, quick and calm in a battle. He doesn’t lose his cool, never loses true sight of his mission.
He’ll find you, he reassures himself. He’ll find you, because to lose you is to lose himself, to lose the last remaining shred of humanity he has left in him. Burned, betrayed, abandoned — every moment of suffering he’s endured throughout his life has left him hardened and cold. Perhaps the universe is a merciful thing; after all, it gave him you. You, who only needs to give him a smile meant just for him to reverse all the pain he’s accumulated over the years.
He never thought he would be able to feel again. And now because of you, he’s feeling entirely too much.
He heads to the last room left: the bedroom.
He’ll find you there. You’ll be sleeping peacefully, tucked into the sheets that will cling with the scent of your body wash, blissfully unaware of your husband’s silly anxiety. Nothing could possibly happen to you — no one even knows you exist, save for the select few who Ghost finds himself able to trust.
He turns the knob, slowly and gently opening the door out of fear of interrupting your slumber, only to be greeted by the sight that haunts his every dream.
You’re lying on the bed, eyes shut, but there are thin, red rivulets running down your face — the face that he can perfectly envision in his mind, down to every eyelash and minuscule mark — and instead of the steady rise and fall of your chest…
…There is no movement.
The acidic feeling of bile rising up his dry throat burns, but he swallows it back down, ignoring the acrid taste in favor of forcing himself to approach your still body. He reaches out for you, noticing the erratic, shaky movements of his hands. When was the last time he had ever been so nervous, so scared, that his hands started to shake?
He doesn’t want to believe it. Your body is cold to the touch, and he finds himself daring to grip you tighter. He doesn’t want to leave a bruise, darling, he promises. He’ll apologize tenfold when you wake up. He shakes you, not as gently as he wants to, because he needs you to wake up. You have to wake up.
“Love?” His throat feels so choked up, he’s surprised he can even manage to speak. He shakes your body again, his knees almost buckling to the heavy weight of immense grief. Your blood stains the otherwise crisp, white sheets of the bed.
He’ll never sleep again if you don’t wake up.
He takes a hand to rest against your baby bump, desperate to feel the familiar kick of his son sensing his father’s presence.
“C’mon, kid.” He pleads and he begs, only to be met with nothing but silence.
He chooses to cradle your face instead, taking in your sweet features and trying desperately to pretend like he doesn’t see the blood spilling, ruining your otherwise perfect visage. The syllables in your name are broken up as he tries to say your name but finds himself struggling to speak properly.
Did you know that Simon rarely cries? Of course, you do — you know everything there is to know about him, down to every traumatic experience that has shaped him into the man he is today. You know that the last time Simon cried was because of his father, and it was very early in his childhood. Even as a baby, Simon was considered to be a very quiet child.
But now he feels the corners of his eyes watering, and he’s not ashamed of the tears — he’s ashamed of himself. You’re not breathing, your body’s gone cold, and he will never get to meet the boy fated to be his son. Is this why the universe had tried so fucking hard to keep him from making attachments? Had fate known that he was undeserving of having a family?
He couldn’t protect you, either of you.
The anger comes — he’ll track down whoever is the cause of this, and he will slaughter every single person involved, knowing that it’ll never be enough, even if the streets are permanently stained red from the amount of blood he’ll spill. But even those thoughts can’t chase away the agonizing grief that is crushing him from the inside out; it takes root inside of his heart, and he feels a part of himself snap.
Rage and agony blend together as the reality of his situation tears him apart. He will never love again; you’ve taken all of what he had to offer straight to the grave. Despite the persistent beating of it, he refuses to acknowledge having a heart, cold or otherwise. There’s nothing. There is no meaning to his life anymore if he cannot share it with you.
His pained screams seem to reverberate around the four walls of your bedroom, and his eyes are instantly open. He sits up, gasping for air, cold sweat dousing his body. He needs several seconds to calm down, and the erratic beating of his heart only quickens its pace when he realizes that all of it was merely a nightmare. But if it was only a bad dream, why does he turn his head only to find your side of the bed empty?
“[Name]?” He calls for you, throwing off the blanket from his body and leaving the warm bed. “[Name]?”
He sounds desperate and frightened — feelings he normally doesn’t display because he usually doesn’t experience them.
He’s gone about most of his adult life knowing that he doesn’t care about what happens to him, but now — now, he actually has something to live for, something to lose. He’s given up so many parts of himself, all for the sake of survival or for a mission. Whatever he hasn’t given away has been stolen from him (boyhood had always been a short-lived concept in his household; his father made sure of it). And then you came into his life — or rather, he infiltrated the building you were held captive in, and suddenly, the world had color again.
He didn’t ask you to fix him, and you never saw him as someone who needed it. You always tell him that he saved your life, even going so far as to call him your hero. You know everything about him; everything but the fact that you saved his life, too.
More accurately: you brought him back to life.
And now his life will go back to being nothing but static and self-sacrificial motivations.
He calls out your name in the darkness of the house, only to be greeted by the sound of his own heart beating against his chest. He stumbles through your home, only to find you rummaging through the kitchen, the light inside of it glowing against your skin and making you appear as an angel.
Breathing becomes significantly easier for him now.
It takes him little to no time to erase the distance between the two of you, and the familiar feeling of your husband’s strong arms wrapping around your body envelopes you. His embrace is comforting albeit a bit suffocating, and you choose to lean into his warmth, allowing him to bury his face into the mess of your hair.
The scent of your shampoo mixing with your own natural scent overwhelms him, and he only attempts to bring you impossibly closer to him.
“Simon?” The sound of your voice is his favorite thing to listen to; even more so when it’s you saying his name so sweetly and softly.
“Simon, what’s going on?” You don’t sound scared, but you take a hand to put over his, massaging his knuckles. It’s nearly one in the morning, and while you know that Simon is secretly clingy, especially when the two of you are sleeping, the way he’s hugging you… It’s almost as if he’s scared that you’ll evaporate the moment he’s not touching you.
“...You weren’t there.” You can feel the movement of his mouth and jaw, his head still very much buried in between the space between your neck and shoulder.
“I wasn’t… Oh.”
The turning point of your relationship had been the fact that Simon was always there every time you had nightmares. It wasn’t until the two of you moved in together that you realized he suffered from some of his own, as well. They’re few and far between nowadays, but sometimes, he’ll thrash in his sleep, tiny, pained groans waking you up from your slumber. You know the memories of watching his former teammates die in front of him haunt him in his subconscious when exhaustion leaves his mind defenseless. Those bad dreams have stopped coming for a long time.
He refuses to tell you about his new nightmare that’s been plaguing him, but either he’s an open book or you’ve just gotten too good at reading him because you think you have a sneaking suspicion as to what’s been scaring him.
“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper softly, and it should be impossible, but his hold on you only tightens up at your words of reassurance. “Nothing bad is going to happen to me.” You take his hand, and he allows you to adjust it to where it’s resting against the swell of your belly. “Nothing bad is going to happen to us.”
He refuses to go back to living that bleak, miserable existence that was his life before you. It’s okay to starve when you don’t know what you’re hungering for; it’s torture when you know you’ll never have what you truly need to survive.
“Let’s go back to bed, Simon. Please?” You plead with him, and after a minute, you feel him nod in agreement.
“You’ll be there when I wake up?” His words come out rough from having not spoken in several hours, but there’s something in his voice that reminds you that there are still remnants of that little, heartbroken boy Simon had to destroy in order to survive his childhood. Those fragments of himself are buried deep through layers of tough skin and pseudo-heartlessness, only coming out in his most vulnerable moments. So far, you’re the only person to witness it. If he has it his way, you’ll be the only one who does.
“I promise. I’ll always be there.”
True to your word, as long as he’s sleeping in the safety of the walls of your home, Simon Riley doesn’t have to find himself waking up alone ever again.
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