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district4loading · 2 months ago

Text

Under My Spell

Kiss of Life Belle x Male Reader

5K Words

Content Warning: smut, hypnosis, use of handcuffs, praise, a little bit of degrading

Minors DNI

A/N: I got the request to do this almost a month ago but back then I was really busy and I had other requests to get to first. Now that my writers block is partially gone, I'm ready to write and work on everything else I've been requested. This was supposed to come out two days ago but I ended up getting sick and I couldn't finish it lmao.

This is my first time writing something like this, I know I probably got some aspects of it wrong so just vibe yeah? Hope you guys enjoy this one!!

The request: "would you be open to writing a smut about hypnosis? like where the reader and idol decide to try out hypnosis?"

Maybe hypnosis is real

You're laying in bed when she brings it up.

She just came back from the nail salon, her purse slides off of her arm and onto the dresser when she asks you "Babe, what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?" She peels herself out of her denim jacket, the one you bought her recently that she called 'ugly.' You fail to mention it though because you begin to question the context of her inquiry.

"Probably like... bondage stuff" You look up from your phone, "Where's this coming from?"

Belle only begins to strip herself of the remainder of her clothing before muttering "I'll get to that." You watch as she throws the worn garments to the side before digging through the dresser for something more comfortable "Wouldn't you find it hot to have complete and utter control over someone, tell them to do something and they're on it with no hesitation or thought behind it" She steps into a pair of shorts "No matter what you ask, they do it mindlessly"

You tilt your head, trying to follow wherever she's going with this. There's a smile on her face but it's not just any smile, it tells you that she's testing the waters, trying to gauge whether or not you were into whatever the hell she was getting at now. "I mean... I guess? I'm not sure"

"You guess?" She gives you a look before pulling an old, loose black t-shirt over her head. She then crawls into bed and you're not surprised when you find her straddling your waist with her hands snaking underneath your shirt. "So... you wouldn't mind putting me under your spell so you could get me to do whatever sick shit you want me to?"

"That sounds like some weird MK-Ultra mind control shit" You chuckle, then wince after she pinches your abs with her sharp nails.

Belle hums "Yeah that's exactly what I mean..." You watch as she backs up a bit, then she begins to think, "well actually I was talking about hypnosis but you get the idea... kinda sorta"

"You want me to hypnotize you?" She nods and now you're confused "You can't actually believe that works babe..."

"It works" She insists, then slaps your chest when she sees the unconvinced and almost judging look on your face.

That's when you realize she's dead serious about it "What makes you want to try hypnosis all of a sudden?"

"Well" She begins tugging at the hem of your shirt "A friend of mine told me about how she and her boyfriend tried it and it sort of inspired me"

You stay silent for a bit, reminding yourself not to say anything slick so she doesn't get upset with you. "So how does it work? Do I get a pocket watch and swing it in front of your face or something?" You end up snickering a bit, still finding this conversation to be more humorous than serious.

Belle gives you a look, trying to hold in her own laugh "No, you idiot! I'll send you some videos later and.." She smiles mischievously before sliding off of you then she goes over to the dresser and digs her hand into her purse. You quirk your eyebrow and sit up to better see what she's doing. The moment she pulls a pair of hand-cuffs out, your eyes widen.

"We're gonna need these too"

So after watching countless videos, you finally think you've mastered the art of hypnosis.

Maybe not "mastered" but you got the gist of it. You've got no clue why you agreed to this in the first place because there was still something in the back of your mind telling you that this would never work and if it somehow did, she'd only be pretending. It's probably the boring pessimist in you that makes you think that way but this seemed interesting. So you keep your questioning thoughts to yourself as you reach into your drawer for the handcuffs.

Belle smiles at you in your dark bedroom, the warm light from the lamp on your nightstand is on the dimmest setting. It makes her naked body look so perfect, highlighting each and every one of her beautiful curves. You walk over to her, putting the cuffs on the bed before you take your hands in hers. "Ready?" She hums and nods her head.

"Now, I want you close your eyes to take a deep breath" She does as you say and you can hear the sharp sound of her nostrils taking in the cool conditioned air, her chest rises with it. "Now slowly exhale" and her chest falls gently "Now breathe as you listen to my voice, focus on it and allow everything else to fade away"

You keep your tone gentle and soft to put her at ease "The faint hum of the air conditioner, the rain outside, the cars passing by, block it all out" You notice that she's still taking those deep breaths, then exhaling them with soft grace. "Just focus on me, allow that tension and stress to melt away. No work, no schedules, just you and I"

"Now listen to my words" You pause for a moment "You'll do as I say, be subservient to me" You begin pulling her into a mindset crafted and molded by you "You want me to handcuff you" At this point, Belle holds a straight face, she doesn't even flinch or cringe at your words. Not even a smirk or a giggle, like you've actually got her in some sort of trance. "You feel the urge to do anything to get me off" and "You will not want us to stop until I say we do"

"Keep your breathing steady and at the snap of my fingers you will awaken with all of these desires"

You raise your hand and put your thumb against your middle finger, then *snap* and her eyes immediately open. There's something about her gaze that you immediately observe, it's kind of dark and empty and she's got a completely blank expression on her face. "What do you want?" You question her softly.

Belle looks over to the handcuffs and picks them up, then she holds them in front of you "Please" She says it with her voice just above a whisper "Please cuff me"

You swallow, not at all recognizing the tone in her voice. It has a chill running down your spine because it sounds almost desperate, like she's really begging for it. You begin to think that maybe this hypnosis shit is actually real and it scares you a bit. But you still take the handcuffs out of her hands as she puts her hands out for you.

It takes you a moment cause you're not used to this but you manage to get them on her. "Knees, princess" You order and just like that, she's dropping to her knees in front of you "Good girl" You mutter under your breath as you look down at her with nothing but lust in your eyes.

It's weird, this was actually turning you on more than you thought it would. Having so much control over her without a fight for dominance or her usual bratty attitude.

No doubt it already has your blood rushing.

So you don't waste any time to pull off your shirt then you unbuckle your belt and you take your jeans off. You take your hard cock into your hand and you pump it slowly "Open" Her lips part and her tongue pokes out "Suck" Is the next thing you say as you guide the head into her mouth.

Almost immediately, she begins bobbing her head mindlessly. Her warm mouth is so wet and welcoming and the feel of her fleshy, slippery inner cheeks and her smooth velvety tongue has your nerves so sensitive. You groan deeply as you allow your hands to run through her scalp then your hips start thrusting forwards because she's beginning to swirl her tongue and it feels incredible. She doesn't even need her hands, so much control, so disciplined and obedient for you. Belle takes your cock like a pro, sucking and slurping it tightly to provide the utmost pleasure and its fucking perfect.

She makes enthusiastic noises as she sucks your cock, like she's been starving for it, like your pre-cum is the best thing she's ever tasted.

You stop for a moment and hold her head still, then you push all the way in so her nose is pressed up against your base. Almost like you're a sadist, you hold her there, watching the way her eyes well up with tears. "So beautiful" You compliment, admiring the look of her glossy eyes. Her throat squeezes you as she gags "Ah fuck" You moan, pushing your hips just a bit deeper and Belle swallows, nearly making you dizzy. So you loosen your grip on her head and she continues to bob her head wildly.

It's like she has no gag reflex with how fast she's going and how deep she's taking you. Each drag of her mouth has you stuck just staring into her eyes, those dutiful brown orbs that tell you she's not going to stop until your cum is shooting down her throat. At this rate, it may not be too far away. "Oh—fucking god" You bite your lip, muscles clenching as she continues to suck you off.

All she can really do is hum and moan with her mouth stuffed full with your cock, the sticky noises only adding to your arousal. You can feel it coming already. She's ruthless with it, flicking her tongue in ways she never has before. "I'm going to fucking—" You can't even finish your sentence because she has your needy cock throbbing in her perfect mouth.

It's muffled, but you can hear it when she moans and starts bobbing her head quicker, like she wants nothing more than to get you off. You don't even realize it when you grip her hair tighter because you're too focused on being at the edge. Usually, when Belle would do this, she'd stop at the last second just to tease because like the brat she is, she enjoyed seeing you squirm. However, it didn't seem like she'd be doing that now. By the look in her eye, you can tell she's going to fucking milk you for all you've got.

Now you're starting to really get the idea of this whole hypnosis thing, even if she's just faking it. You place your hands on her head because even though you know she won't go anywhere, it feels right. You take a deep breath and then "I'm cumming" you announce with a low and long groan escaping your lips. Your eyes shut so tight you can see spots behind your eyelids and in a flash Belle's taking it all down her perfect throat.

It's almost like she can't get enough of you, the way she keeps on sucking she pulls out any bit of semen you have left. She swallows it all and you pull your hips back weakly when she tries to get you back in her mouth "Okay, thats enough" You chuckle tiredly and then she sits back on her heels.

Now the deadpan expression on her face is gone and it's replaced with an eager smile. There's still something off about it but you can't exactly pinpoint what "Did I do good?" She asks, waiting for your response with some drool at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, baby" You sigh "On the bed, on your back, now" Another order comes out of your mouth, and you sound more natural about it.

Belle licks her lips then stands up, it takes a little more effort for her to climb onto the bed because of the handcuffs but she does it eventually. "What do you want, princess?" You ask the question again, because you're intrigued about what she'll answer.

"Use my body, please sir I want it so fucking bad—I need it. Need you to use me until you're finished I won't be satisfied until you're done with me" There's this genuine yearning in her tone, something that you almost don't recognize at all.

You go with it though "Lift your arms until they're above your head" A smirk grows on your face as you get a perfect view of her tits. You climb onto the bed and you get on top of her, positioned so that you're almost sitting on her stomach "You gonna let me use these perfect tits?" You ask as if she has any choice in the matter.

Still, she nods her head frantically "Anything" She whines as you grab a hold of her breasts in your big hands. You cup and squeeze them, like always, they're better than fucking pillows, so soft and squishy. You place your cock in between them and press them together on it, you groan immediately when your feel the perfect warmth.

"Fuck yeah" You groan as you begin to move your hips back and forth. She only looks up at you with that lustful look in her eyes. You gather some saliva in your mouth, then you lean over and spit it out. It lands on her boob, then it trickles downwards and you spread it around as you keep fucking her tits.

It was always something you wanted to try out, but you hadn't gotten the chance to ask yet. You were kind of afraid she'd laugh at the idea and you didn't exactly know how she'd take it. Belle would probably be down for literally anything you wanted to try out and it was the same for you—which is why you agreed to do this hypnosis thing in the first place—but you could still do without the teasing that'd come with it.

Your cock slides between her breasts without any resistance whatsoever, it's all smooth and slick and it feels so fucking good. With her hands over her head she just lets it happen because she's fucking loving it. The almost harsh grip you have on her tits has her squirming because she wants to be touched and used in other places, obviously.

You keep the pace though, wanting to stay in this moment for just a little bit more before you move on. "How does it feel baby?" She gives you those expecting eyes, like she yearns for your approval.

So you don't hold back your praises "Incredible, your tits are fucking amazing Belle... I could do this forever" You sigh, listening to the slick sound each of your movements make.

"Why don't you do it forever then? I wouldn't mind" She teases but her tone tells you that she's not really joking.

Maybe hypnosis is real

A small chuckle escapes your lips as you stop your movements "If I did that, I wouldn't be able to get to the best part"

"Which is?" She figures she can let her hands rest on her belly.

You reposition yourself so that you're in between Belle's legs at this point "Right here, princess" She hums when you place your palm on her soaked cunt. It's all slippery and slick with her arousal, she's been absolutely aching to have you inside of her. Your cock throbs at the mere thought of it.

"Please sir"

The way her voice sounds in your hears has you smirking, so fucking desperate. Normally, Belle had far too much pride to beg like this but now that she's under your control things are different.

You might actually prefer it this way

"Please what darling? You want my cock or what?" You mock, wrapping your fingers around your cock so you can nudge it against her entrance. You don't put it in though, you merely slide it up and down her slit slowly, lathering your swollen cock head up with her wetness.

A choked moan forces its way through her throat "Yes! I fucking need your cock—fuck—just inside please just...use me, fucking own me"

"Jesus, you're a fucking slut" You bite your lip, slapping your tip against her needy cunt just to get her that much more riled up before you begin.

"Your slut" Belle corrects, bucking her hips up like she really needs you.

So you stop messing around and you slide your thick cock into her hot entrance. Her walls pull you in immediately, hugging your cock so tightly that you have to stifle a moan "Fucking hell" you whisper instead. Belle exhales softly as you make eye contact with her then you slide yourself in all the way until you reach the hilt.

The look on her face is pure content as you begin to move inside of her. She watches you, not missing the subtle ways your facial features contort from the pleasure. "Fuck me" She begins to pull at the cuffs, fingers trying to grasp at anything while you pick up the pace.

If she wants to get fucked, I'll fuck her—is what you think to yourself as you lean over.

You're moving faster now, hearing a jumbled up mess of words that escape her lips as you do. She's saying your name like its a prayer, begging for it deeper, faster, harder all at once because she wants you to give her everything. "Fucking—please!! more..more..more" It sounds like she just might die if you don't. So that's exactly what you do, you give her probably more than she can handle.

The quiet bedroom now has the sound of your skin slapping against each other echoing throughout it, then there's that filthy sound coming from between your legs—her arousal is audible especially when you bottom out. It's almost like a splashing sound over and over again occurring fast with your punishing thrusts.

"You feel so fucking good, so fucking tight and wet for me" You spit, watching in real time as you dumb her down with your cock. She's blabbering about something, something about how your cock is too good, how she can't get enough of it. That's about all you're able to make out because she's cutting of her own sentences with loud moans then seemingly forgetting whatever she was going to say next.

You smirk a little because you've whittled her down to this complete and utter embarrassing mess. She wants to touch you—to feel your body and you can tell by the frantic way her hands are moving. You almost snicker at how pathetic she looks right now. "What's wrong? Gonna cum already?" Is the question you ask upon noticing that familiar breathing pattern "Go ahead, do it" you grit through your teeth.

She's gasping for air deliberately, like she has to remind herself to breathe. Still she's able to chant "yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes" right before the poor girl stops breathing all together. You keep it hard and deep as she goes silent, your grunts being the only other noise that can be heard over the filthy noises of your sex.

Her body stiffens, only moving from the impact of each of your thrusts. Then finally she exhales, legs shaking as she cums all over your cock like she's been longing to. Her cunt clenches around you so tight that it has you not too far behind her. You let your body fall onto hers so she can feel you close as you ride her body through her orgasm, your hips rolling forwards all slow and calculated. "Good fucking girl"

When she's finished you pull your hips back to slip your cock out of her. She whines, not liking the feeling of being empty but she doesn't say anything about it. "Where should I finish?" You question her, lifting your body off of hers. You get off of the bed and reach for the nightstand where the keys to the handcuffs are.

You grab them, then you un-cuff her "I'll be happy with whatever you choose, sir" she whimpers, breathing heavily as you move to flip her over.

It's a bit difficult to get a good grip on her sleek skin, but you're able to do it so she's flat on her stomach "Hands and knees." Belle immediately finds the strength to do so, pulling her body up so that she's in the position you've asked her to be in. You get behind her and your hands find her waist "I think I wanna cum in this tight pussy" You mutter, guiding your sensitive tip to her stretched cunt.

It's begging to be filled again, to be pumped full of your seed.

"Then breed me babe" She breathes, pushing her ass back in an attempt to get you inside when she notices that you're teasing. You only smirk, then you part her lips with your tip, gathering up all the clear slick between her legs. "Come on" Belle moves her hips side to side.

First you run your palm over her soft, round ass and then you slap it harshly. She lets out a pleasureful shriek as you watch the red shape of your hand form on the pale skin. You run the same hand up her hips and stop at her waist which you grip tightly before slip your cock back into her needy cunt.

You put your other hand on her waist, holding her in place while you push your hips forwards. "Christ" You groan because she's way tighter in this position. Starting off slow seems like the right move at first because she's whimpering, so you do.

Until she lets the side of her head rest on the mattress, so she can look at you the best she can in this position. "Don't be afraid to get rough with me babe, I can handle it" She bites her bottom lip so hard you fear she might draw blood. "Use me" She begs you for the nth time with that perfectly seductive voice of hers, making it so hard for you to hold back. You weren't even sure what you were even holding back for anyways.

So while keeping a good grip on her waist, you begin to jackhammer your cock into that wet warmth. "Fuck!" A broken scream tears through her lips and it almost worries you but the lust takes over. You keep hearing it in the back of your mind. use her, use her, use her. So much that you don't care if you're going too hard "Yes! you're fucking me so... fucking good sir!" She keens.

You lean over and reach your hand to find a grip on her hair. She gasps at the sweet pain that comes with the rough pull of your fingers and she's forced to hold herself up with her arms again—which she can barely do. "You're fucking dripping baby" You grunt, getting off on the sharp crack that booms each time your hips come in contact with her round ass. "Such a good slut... taking it so well for me"

"Please" She whines, and you're not entirely sure what she's begging for "Please"

"Please what princess?" You almost growl, feeling your abs begin to burn.

She swallows thickly, moaning like she can't control herself. "f-f-fill me up.. I fucking—God—I fucking need it"

It's coming, you can feel it in your balls. Her cunt is gripping you so perfectly, so smooth and slick that every drag has your jaw clenching and your mind going blank. You're so unbelievably close to stuffing her full of it--it's the only thing you can think about right now. "Yeah... Belle, gonna fucking... cum in you" Your breaths are labored now because the force you're fucking her with is tiring you out.

"God I'm gonna fucking-" Belle squeals, then a rush of clear liquid begins to spill out from between her legs and her mouth hangs open. The pressure almost kills you right then and there but you keep moving, you can't get enough of her. Even when another—more powerful—burst comes out you only grunt as it runs down her legs and stains the sheets.

"Ah...look at you—squirting for me" You'd chuckle if you weren't so close right now. You end up slowing it down, thrusting hard and deep into her cunt slowly. One. Belle shrieks. Two. She moans deeply. Three. She bites her lip. Then four and your cock is pulsing and throbbing wildly inside of her the second you bury it inside of her on the fourth thrust. You moan loudly as you fill her needy cunt with your seed. There's so much that it's dripping down the side.

You can only sigh the little bit of breath you have left as it continues, your voice too broken and fucked up to do anything more. She only hums sweetly, giggling as you let go of your grip on her hair and your body collapses onto hers so you lay flat on the bed.

"Holy shit" You swallow, then you gather up the strength to sit yourself up and you put your hand on her now red ass, rubbing the cheek as you catch your breath. "Good girl" Then you remember that you should probably pull her out of her hypnotized state. "Sit up and close your eyes" You breathe. It takes her a moment, you watch as she sort of struggles to do as you say but eventually she does. "At the snap of my fingers, you will wake up"

You snap your fingers and her eyes open "Oh my God" is the only thing that comes out of her mouth. Her expression is unreadable and you're not sure if its a good thing or a bad thing for a second. Then Belle smiles and she climbs on top of you. You're surprised, but you allow it because the second she leans in to kiss you it just feels right. She pulls away "What the fuck? That was so hot" It's like she herself is surprised that it worked too.

"You remember?" You ask, knowing that sometimes people lose memory after they've been hypnotized, but it seems like Belle didn't.

Belle nods her head "Every second" Then she kisses you again "Especially when you fucked my tits, you could've told me you were into that" she teases, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"I know you, you would've laughed at me"

"But I still would've let you do it" She nods

You tilt your head playfully doubting her words "Sure" Is all you say before she pushes you back so that you're laying down.

"Shut up" She mutters before putting her lips on yours again and you're both smiling into the passionate kiss, feeling that familiar fluttering feeling in your stomach. "Thank you for trying this out with me" She seems genuine about it.

You shake your head "I'll try any kinky shit you throw at me"

and there's no doubt you would

#Kiss of Life #Kiof belle #Kiss of Life Belle #Belle #kpop gg #kpop idol #smut #male reader #belle x male reader #hypnosis #hypno fantasy #hypno k1nk #mind control

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jinnie-ret · 29 days ago

Text

breathe

hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, angst

content warnings: work exhaustion

word count: 1.2k

summary: you let yourself belittle your own problems because surely they couldn't be as bad as your idol boyfriend's own ones?

requested by: @skzoologist

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤 MAIN MASTERLIST

You always found it interesting how you were held up by a strong armour of bones; how you'd practically be jelly without them, but when your boyfriend was Hwang Hyunjin, all of those existential thoughts trickled away. Sure, those things were true, they were facts, yet he was the one to hold you up when you couldn't do it on your own anymore and you'd be lying if you said that sinking into his arms after a hard day of work didn't also turn you into jelly. To tell a long story short, you lived and breathed Hyunjin and him, you.

Almost instinctively, he could tell something was wrong the minute, no, the second you hobbled in through the freshly painted, front door of your new home. The two of you had only recently moved in, so with the combination of unpacking your joint array of various possessions and also going to work everyday, you were exhausted. Hyunjin had insistently reasoned with you that you didn't have to wake up early in the tiresome mornings to work. He could cover it. That didn't sit right to you. It didn't feel fair. You wanted to start this new chapter of your lives as equals, wanting to contribute and provide too.

"Baby, you're back!" Hyunjin's soft voice cooed as he immediately encased you with his long limbs. Just like that, you were putty in his hands. He brought such comfort to you, such a warmth that he could melt the ice caps.

"Hyune," you simply said his name whilst burying your face into his neck. The small exhale of air as you sagged against him told him everything he needed to know in confirming if he was right or not. Something had to be wrong.

"What's wrong, darling?"

"Nothing's wrong."

Liar, he thought. Before he could press you further, however, you were reluctantly leaving his arms to crouch down and unbuckle the boots you had worn that day, a wince forming on your face as you did.

"You sure? Why you scrunching up your nose like that, baby?" Hyunjin's tone remained delicate with you but you didn't mind it. It didn't feel demeaning, it was comforting considering the people you had been around today. He rubbed careful circles into your shoulders, keeping contact with you as you stood back up and looked at the floor unsurely.

"I'm fine," you sighed, huffing as you pushed some hair out of your face.

"I already know that you've had a hard day," Hyunjin let out a sigh of his own, bringing up a hand to caress your cheek. It grabbed your attention and your eyes to met his.

"Did my manager call or something? Why would they tell you? I'm honestly doing perfectly well," you groaned, the frown on your face disappearing as quickly as it came with Hyunjin smoothing out the furrow of your brows.

"Not because of your manager, but because I know you," he led you into the kitchen, making you sit down whilst he filled up a glass with some water.

"Thanks, Jinnie," you mumbled before taking a few sips. The rush of ice cold water through your body should have alerted you to letting your walls back up like you usually did, but your boyfriend had always told you to be honest with him and that you could be, so there was no stopping you now.

"I've been really tired recently and going into work should feel good for me with having the routine but I think I'm finding it... tricky?"

As you spoke your thoughts and feelings, Hyunjin listened intently from next to you, a hand resting on your arm as to not overwhelm you too much. His fingers caressed the skin that he could reach beyond your sleeve.

"You always say 'tricky', baby, but how do you really find it?" Hyunjin spoke up after a moment.

"Umm, well, I do find it tricky... Like, it's difficult. It's quite possibly wearing me down a bit," you admitted, rubbing your forehead with your thumb and index finger, trying to soothe the impending headache you've been getting every evening this week so far.

"Oh, baby... you'll be okay," Hyunjin pressed against you, hands cupping your cheeks and wiping away some stray tears you didn't even notice had made their appearance, "Let's go cuddle, yeah? That always seems to help."

He had lit a candle in the bedroom, the orange glow setting a calming hue across the bedroom walls. You had never been happier than the decision you had made in unpacking the bedroom as a priority, being able to snuggle beneath the shining, silky sheets. Face to face with you, your boyfriend stroked your hair with one hand, the other resting on your lower back.

"Talk to me, baby," Hyunjin began.

"I already have," you groaned, shutting your eyes.

"There's something else, I can tell," Hyunjin murmured.

"Isn't."

"There is."

"Ughhhhhh."

"Flopping about like a fish won't get you out of this, baby" Hyunjin giggled, arms wrapping around you tighter to cease your random movements.

"Fine. It's just, I can't just stop going to work, Jinnie," you chewed your lip as you paused, "I don't even do as much as you do as an idol and I end up tired and complaining. It's not fair to you."

"Is this why you hold back so much with these things? Because you keep making comparisons?" Hyunjin frowned, "Baby, I'm not going to make it a competition and tell you that I'm more tired or tell you that you don't work hard. I can tell that you do, I see that every day."

"You don't see me at work though-"

"That's not my point," Hyunjin whined, smacking you on the arm playfully.

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'," he giggled at your blank face.

"I just want you to rest and relax. We'll take a nap, have a nice dinner and then enjoy the weekend, how's that sound?" Hyunjin kissed you on the forehead for a couple of seconds, relishing the feeling of holding you so dearly.

"It's the weekend?" your eyes widened ever so slightly despite the sleepy haze that had taken over.

"You're so silly," Hyunjin giggled lightly, shuffling closer to you and lifting you so that you could rest your head on his chest. Once again, that light, airiness returned to you as well you could think about was him. Not about work or any other worries that entered your mind. They had floated away just as easily as you did into a peaceful sleep, not needing that strong armour to hold you up in this moment. You were safe, loved and cared for whenever you were around Hyunjin and that's all you needed.

tagged: @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @katzline @kiwihrt @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @lovingchan @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @theo4eve

#skz #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin angst #hyunjin angst

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000jeon · 1 year ago

Text

Focused on her

mature: graphic detail.

synopsis: He had always been a master of concentration, but the sight of you in that black, figure-hugging dress was enough to shatter his focus. The way the fabric clung to every curve of your body, accentuating your shape, was simply irresistible. It was as if the dress had been tailor-made for you, and him alone. Every inch of his being was drawn to you, he found himself struggling to keep his eyes off you and had to his frustration out in other than boxing gloves. So about a leftover spiked condom in his leather wallet he had left from previous nights?

aged jungkook au! complicated friendship au! Roommates!

contains: oral, smut, dirty talk, tattooed JK, pierced JK, not as much plot but plot, dub-con, Dom jungkook, sub reader, ball sucker, coy reader, slight pinning, wall, floor, verbal jk, the reader isn't as verbal, jk focused, jk is very imaginative, in love jk, cursing, daydreamermer, face sitting (m), the reader isn't on bc, mentions of pregnancy, crempie, cumshot, blowjob, rounds, he is big, w.a.p.

Sweat glistened down his towel-wrapped forehead and rolled down his chin and neck as if melting underneath the warmth of the sun. His stamina and determination kept him going for hours at a time, taking a break every second to see what you were up to In the living room as he practiced alone. Typically he'd go down to a trainer or have him over, but due to severe rain pour and storm, it was best to cancel and take precautions for both parties.

You on the other hand took the opportunity to go through your clothes and see what could be donated. He never minded you stripping naked in front of him, allowing him to view you in such a relaxed state and you never hesitated to ask why. Was it because like his friends he was a pervert or because it was just a woman's body and he shouldn't huff and puff like a dog wanting a chew toy? You never knew and you never gave it a second thought.

With a loud smack coming from an undercut against the 6'0ft punching bag, he whipped his chin using his tattooed sleeve arm and continued working on his strength. Continuing he took his gloves off with his teeth and placed them besides his hip, giving himself a break to drink some water and sit on the little black padded gym bench he bought recently. With your back towards him, he took the opportunity to check your ass in your panties out and smirk to himself while he quietly took a small spit to drink.

Curious about why you were slowly bending down to pull something up he soon realized the dress had small chains of gold around the midsection of the dress and he practically held in a laugh at how you thought aloud of how delicate the seems were. Within another sip the dress was under your breast and almost completely on besides the spaghetti straps that looked like they needed to be clasped by another.

In amazement, his eyes raised and mouth slowly hung as he watched in awe of your beauty and amazing figure. Was it the ideal body you'd see marketed no, but the way your body hugged and tugged at the dress made him rethink his life choices of women in an instant. Once again shaken to his core, he stood up and walked over to help you clasp the back of the dress, his height leaning over your smaller frame and taking a peek at your breast naturally sitting comfortably in the dress.

With a wrap around your waist, he turned you, softy. With fear your eyes expanded wide like dear in headlights afraid he'd stupidly break it, but instead gave you more breathable room and adjusted the dress with a smile he wasn't aware he wasn't hiding from you.

"mmm, you think I could take you somewhere nice in this. It's a shame you've never worn it until now," he mentions, backing up to get a better view of the dress. Looking up at him you could see his gaze dancing to the slight sparkles that shined ever so softly in the living room light.

With a faded smile you look down and sigh saying "I've never felt confident with anyone enough to really show it off, so I hid it until now I suppose." Ignoring his offer due to the last bit of his speech, he walked up and lifited your head a bit with a sweaty finger.

"let me be the confidence you need, I'd train harder to protect something as bright as that smile when you turned around in that dress" he mentions, his heart fluttering more than yours at a soft compliment. Taking a moment he realized what he had uttered and pretended to cough to the side in his arm.

Flustered he tried speaking and only studdered words came out and was embarrassed. Taking a breath in, he smiled and gain a slight composure to excuse himself to what he believed was a full sentence.

"I'm going to uh, yeah. I'll -" he stopped himself, walking off itching his hair as he walked back to the puffy cool new gym bench. Flustered himself, that giggle you let out killed him and he knew it was about to haunt him for days of how he messed up a cool moment like that.

Undoing the towel wrapped around his head, he sighed and smelled it. It wasn't very noticeable but it was time to wash his hair. Which to him was a blessing sent from above or love itself, a moment he could hopefully steam out his head as he washed his worked-out bodys trophie of sweat and pride out his pores or so he thought.

He thought the cold water would stop the thoughts of taking you out as friends to a dinner, to show off your curves. As friends to a fancy 5 star restaurant in Seoul, he'd have to book now to see you in that dress again. But the one thing that made the water run warm was the thought of watching the dress fall down your body like a melted white chocolate fountain. A fountain he'd pour over you if you gave him one day, a night, and even the chance. Something his mind was begging for at this point.

Turning the water to warm, he gently hit his head against the wall in frustration and desperation at that point in time. He wanted to last one more hour to make it four with boxing, but damn if he did it's be obvious on how he felt about the dress on your body and there would be no way of getting out of being teased for months on bodily functions.

Couldn't help he liked what he saw, it pumped more thrill in his body to watch you turn your back away from him then to finally land that harsh punch he's been aiming for all day. And that was bad, very bad. He could trip over thoughts as he was over you. Was he in love or just desperate or maybe both? Not a teenager anymore, but grown enough to acknowledge that his heart dipped lower than his chest and throbs at the sight of you at times. Something he kept secret and hideen if possible, very hidden..

With a last scrub and the daily shower confession, he assumed he was clean of rightfully lustful thoughts until he walked out in a towel to his imagination of the black dress falling at easy down your body. He gulped and quietly made it to his room in search of clothes and franticly looked for clothes to go out in.

"gah, fuck this" he cursed aloud, pulling his shirt down as looked for clothes and ways to get that image out his head. Infact he needed to get out of his head, out of his apartment as he searched for boxers and his pants, and his wallet in a hurry.

"why me?" He whined to himself silently as he fell dramatically on the bed in a pain only you could fix. Reaching for his wallet in defeat he felt a circle like dent and remembered he kept a condom in there incase the day you wanted to get spicy with him out side of his head he'd be ready. Was he ready if that ever happened. Sighing he took the condom off and placed iton his bed side counter.

"it's pouring outside, wet. Wet like- ugh" he slapped himself slightly on the forehead. "What am I doing wrong with my life" he groaned sitting up and gaining the mental strength to go back out to see you. Which he did, to only find you ordering a pizza online without him.

"Ya" he yelled loudly scaring you as you jolted towards him on the bar stool to face him.

"Without me you jerk. First, you surprised me with the dress and now you're ordering without me, is this how I'm being kicked-"

"No you're not being kicked out, you purchased the place, and two, I just got the website. It's late, cold and I'm sure they will happily deliver here. So here, look and order with me. We get wings half off today." you mentioned getting up In your set pajamas and shoving your iMac laptop in his face.

Grabbing it with thanks he ordered his half added more items and placed his credit card in the order so you wouldn't have to pay before handing it back.

"Thank you jungkookie oppa!" you teased seeing the uncomfortable scrunched face he let as he regretted coming out here. Laughing, you ordered some drinks from another website to come and eveuting wa settled to come withing 45mins to an hour, which could increase due to the storms harshness.

"Is this where we play games and head back to" he jokingly questioned pausing as you got on your knees in front of him. Blinking several times he wasn't sure if he was dreaming or just maladaptive daydreaming again. Looking down he saw he wasn't and his Best friend of 20 years was on her knees looking at his Bonner like it was meat on a menu.

"Why not skip to the fun part of waiting," you softly bit down on your glossed lower lip as he gulped in anticipation.

"Maybe the wait is worth the fun in the end?" He lets out a deep huff of warm air backing up a bit in sheer awkwardness. It wasn't like he didn't want you, it was more he didn't like the way you started it when he could've 'man up' and started it himself. It was his erection anyway.

With a hand offered to help you up, you gratefully took it and he used it to pull up and close to his chest. Breathing heavily out of shock, your eyes slowly trailed up to meet his as he smirked in a smile.

"One thing to know about me is I like taking care of others, I want to have the lead, and those soft pleading eyes you're giving me are driving me crazy right now" JK mentions, lowering his head down so his lips could meet with yours but only keeping them an inch away for added suspense.

"then I'm glad I've always listened to you, to every word and command you've asked of me thus far" you gulp, lips quivering in need of attention. With that in mind, his head slightly turned and yours did too without breaking the small gap between his throbbing lips and your slightly quivering ones. A distance he shortly after broke, with his hands feeling around your back before bringing his arms around in a comfortably tight embrace around your hips.

Moaning from the tug and the great relief of broken space, he drank up the vibration and used it to fuel his lustful fire below. One that could be felt pushing against your pelvis as if asking on his behalf for more, for consent of the obvious.

Wanting more, he kissed vigorously. Their lips moved from the pace of uncertainty to tongue exploring the edges and buds of your own as his heart pounded from the excitement of your arms wrapping around his neck loosely like his thin silver chain with a gem pendant you bought him for his birthday years ago.

The birth gem necklace he swore to himself to wear religiously every day. The one he didn't put on today, in an attempt to run away from your hold. To only be wrapped around your embrace, just like the necklace.

While he tries to calm himself before making any long-term decisions with you. He knew that was a promise he couldn't keep with himself as he ached for something long-term and his body was pushing him to. Meanwhile, with his heart controlling his movements now, he started to walk you over to the closest kitchen wall in sight to corner you. To trap you in his warm-hearted embrace the same way the thought of you, your body, and your whole existence did to him mentally.

With the kiss naturally breaking off, he moved his lips around your jaw and pushed any fly hair strands away as he made his way to your neck. Gripping his shirt, in the back his mouth drooled over it in need as he applied rough pressure in the crook between your jaw and neck. With a burning desire he build higher than the pyramids of Asia, you pulled his shirt up and gripped his skin. A bright hue of red plastred on his cheeks as he marked other places on your shoulder of him.

"so much pleasure" you whined quietly, your words loudy admitting to the idea of how sensitive you were to every touch of his on your body. A sentence he repeated mentally as he pulled off to see your pleading state of your face and lips.

"Good, I wanted that" he chuckled at your need for intimacy. Whilst eyeing you carefully watching for your aroused response to his movements, he gripped the hemming of his shirt to pull over and throw off to the side of you. In all its glory, his upper body was indeed muscular and slimmed. A pack of 8, along with his biceps were seen more clearly as you walked your eyes down and around his bare uper torso.

"keep them lowered for me only" Jungkook insisted, pulling his shorts and leaving him in his ballooned underwear for your visual pleasure. A moment- wait no a sight you never thought you'd see like this. Moving your gaze back up, caused him to tilt your head back down to look.

"never said to look up, so keep your eyes lowered" he leaned in your ear to say. With a nod, you saw him lower his body to his knees and pull both layers of pajama pants and underwear down to reveal a slight bush. Embraced you covered yourself modestly with shock as he pushed them away and lifted one of your legs on his shoulder.

"looks good, so it'll taste good," he says, tongue slowly brushing and coating his lips in hunger as much as wetness as he leans his nose forward more. With a lookup of yes, you nodded and soon gripped the jet-black strands of his hair as his lips collided with your folds. Tongue lathering your juices around your clit as his hands held your hips still and close as he sucked and teased the floods and your nerve with ease. Arching, you felt the release of wetness drip along your thighs as he continued to lick his deep coral-pink tongue around the nub as his lips attached to your labia with thirst.

Moaning at almost an uncontrollable pace, you tugged and played with stands of his washed musk musk-smelling hair as your mouth felt like it was being held open for you in need. Pulling away softly, he made his eyes make contact with yours as he continued to orally fuck you to insanity before pulling off at any side of orgasm as he could feel the convulsions of your opening with ease and with some experience and a vague memory could tell the difference between one cumming and having an orgasm. A feeling he could sense was near.

Completely coming away from you, he caught you in his arms as your Legs buckled and gave up on standing on him. With a smile, he laid you on the thankfully clean, but cold white-lined tile floor and even placed his shirt under your head for a slightly better experience. Pulling his underwear off he threw them and eventually kneeled himself over your mouth, shaft in hand as his hard on faced towards your tits.

"get me even more excited for your mouth" he requests, your tongue like his earlier licked to become wet to provide a more comfortable experience for both of you. Thankfully JK decided to spend a few minutes trimming himself a bit in the shower as it was overdue for him, something you didn't mind not caring long as he was sexually clean. Something you knee from the constant lack of lotion in the bathroom and your bottles disappearing out of sight .

Succking on one side of his balls, you were glad they weren't too big to suck and roll around in your mouth as he jerked his cock in pleasure. Pulling up your shirt, he saw your breasts once again in a relaxed state and jerked and toyed one handily at them in ecstasy.

"so good" he breathed out heavily, cock heavy in his hands as he jerked over your breast harder in delight. It wasn't like he needed the extra help, but fuck if he had the chance to jerk himself over your pretty breasts he'd take it with no questions asked. Another fantasy fulfilled to him. Pulling himself off of you he stood up and helped you up to strip you of your top.

"fuck there's no way I'm letting your body get pleasure on this floor baby. You deserve somewhere warm and cozy, like my bed to lay on" he insists, taking your hand and urging you to his room. You gladly followed behind him as he rushed the both of you to the bed.

With the shut of the door and the flick of his warm-toned mood lighting. His bedroom was lightly illuminated with a warm yellow glow. Laying on the bed, he thought about a blowjob first but realized saving it for the end was more worth it as he knew how much of you he could handle before leading to his own orgasm.

Turning you over with light force, you laid on your belly and he handed you a pillow for added pleasure as you placed it under your pelvis. Waiting as he was you were getting adjusted completely, he tore his spiked, lubed, and internally ribbed condom and shuttered in slight coldness as it went down his shaft. Ready as you were, he soon pined your legs down and wanted to do things in prone bone style jungkook version than anything. Besides your ass in his eyes was meant to take it face down like this.

With his chest now hovering above your back, he placed his tip on the entrance of your cunt as he held himself in a somewhat of a one-armed plank position to do so. Kissing your upper back he warned you his cock was a large size to take. Which you believed based on how tight his boxers were on him minutes ago and the sound of him jerking wasn't light. With that in mind, he softly slid just his tip in before going into a full plank-like stance above your back as he introduced his protected cock to your warmth.

With the sound of painful pleasure coming from your lips, he stopped and allowed his hips to roll his tip in circles to get you accustomed to his cock. A feeling both mentally and physically arousing to both of you. After about 3 mins of him rolling his tip in and back kissing, he was able to inch his way deeper into you which caused him to panic at the feeling of walls tightly gripping and sucking him in with urgency.

"I'll pay for plan b if I fuck up and more if that doesn't work" he assured, knowing he's gonna wanna take that condom off to feel skin to tissue any minute.

Part 2: coming soon

M.LIST

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook jeon #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jk fanfic #jk x reader #Jk x you

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reidsdimples · 8 months ago

Note

Can you do an angst Spencer and reader where they have an argument about their friends with benefits situation just before he goes to play baseball with Morgan and he is devastated when you don’t show but at the last minute he sees you in the crowd with a ‘Reid’ jersey on 😭😭

Situationship

My response to this request <3

"Because, maybe I'm not ready for that step in this... situationship," you frown as you hold Spencer's face between your hands.

You're straddling him, only wearing his shirt which is open after the two of you essentially attacked each other for the last few hours. You were sore between your legs but still so turned on as you tugged on the ends of his hair. He looked up at you through thick eyelashes and doe eyes.

"It's not like that for me. I'm serious about you. I would never do what he did," he eases you off of him gently and stands. His dark jeans are open and your eyes follow his happy trail down until it disappears behind the waistband of his black boxers.

"I'm not saying you will..." you start. Your last friends with benefits situation ended in disaster.

"You can't keep comparing me to him. I think I've more than proven that my feelings for you go beyond superficial or sexual," he shakes his head and sighs.

"Spencer," you reach for him. He pulls away from your grip and enters his walk in closet.

You and Spencer had been friends for two years before one night, three months ago, things changed and... well it seemed the two of you had wanted each other for a while.

But before... you were friends with Finn for five years, a year of that was spent as a friend with benefits. Except he only led you to believe he wanted more in order to keep you in his bed. Things went south when he got some other girl pregnant. The friendship couldn't be saved after that. And in his own words, he didn't see you as worth anything more than sex.

You had to keep this line drawn with Spencer, you couldn't hope for more because what if he doesn't actually want you that way? What if he just thinks he does? Truthfully you didn't want your heart broken again and you didn't want to lose another friend.

He emerged from his closet with a lilac button up hanging over his brown jeans as his nimble fingers worked the buttons.

"You don't want more with me, I promise you," you plead with him. You pull your leggings on.

"How do you know?" Pain spread across his features in the form of furrowed eyes and puppy dog eyes that clenched your heart.

You didn't want to say you thought he was too good to be true. You didn't want to say he deserved better, because he did.

"That's what I thought," he sassed. "I know where your boundaries lie. I won't invite you to things with my team moving forward."

You could tell that the words were painful for him to say. His team was his family. You hadn't hung out with them before- for this reason.

"I want to support you, I just can't..." you knew your fear was controlling you.

"It's fine. Lock the door when you leave," he pulled on his FBI baseball cap and exited his apartment.

His words and abrupt exit felt like more of a goodbye than just him going to the game. You swallowed hard.

Spencer wiped sweat from his forehead. The game had been rough and he couldn't stop questioning why he agreed to participate. You weighed heavy on his mind.

He wrapped his hands around the bat, practicing his swing as he scanned the crowd. JJ and Garcia wave at him and he smiles. Suddenly his eyes spot a familiar head of hair, hair that had been curled in his hands hours before as you moaned beneath him.

You came.

You were sitting two bleachers behind his team with a big iced coffee and what appeared to be a baseball jersey. His baseball jersey. He hadn't worn it obviously as it was a gag gift from Derek.

But you wore it over your signature leggings and were smiling at him like you had resolved yourself to the reality of him affections.

Derek ushered him to the home plate where evidently the team depended on him to win the game. Wonderful.

He remembered his form that Derek taught him and squinted against the sun as he heard you cheering him on. His heart seized when he heard you cheering for him. the ball flew towards him and... miss.

"This guy's got nothing," one of the other team mates taunted.

"Come on baby!" You cheer, unyielding in claiming him. He took a deep breath and focused on the next pitch.

This time he swung just in time, sending the ball through the air with such force it took him a moment to remember what to do next.

"Run!" The team yelled.

"To first base baby!" Your voice broke through the noise. He dropped the bat and took off.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He couldn't believe he was still running between the bases, the thought of scooping you into his arms spurning him forward. His eyes locked on the opposing teammate who was about to hurl the ball to first base as he picked up speed.

Derek ushered him in and there was nothing else to do but what he saw on TV- jump. So he did, a sliding jump sent him to home base before the catcher caught that ball.

Cheers erupted and he knew that he got the winning home run. Derek pulled him off the ground and hugged him as adrenaline pumped to his head. He was laughing and smiling as he met your eyes over Derek's shoulder.

You gave him a small wave and a bright smile.

"Come on, there's someone I want you to meet," he told his team and gestured towards you.

A sense of resolve settled within you as you moved to meet the people he called family. Maybe Spencer really was different. He pulled you under his arm and held you close as you all spoke amongst yourselves.

You knew when he left that apartment it was time to call the sexual stuff quits or take a chance and dive head first into him. You were glad you took a chance as he lazily circled his thumb over your hand while your fingers were interlocked.

#spencer reid #mgg #criminal minds #mgg pics #dr reid #spencer reid one shots #spicy spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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xomakara · 7 months ago

Text

All Eyes On You

SUMMARY | Yunho gets a bit jealous when you're fussing over all the members' clothes, hair, and makeup.

PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader

GENRE/CONTENT/WARNINGS | idol!Yunho, stylist!Reader, jealous!Yunho, established relationship, smut, fingering, dirty talk, blowjobs, oral sex (male receiving/female giving), praise kink, pet names, dirty talk

RATING | Mature, NSFW, 18+

LENGTH | 2918 words

TAGLIST | @noir-aria @engentiny

NETWORKS |

@illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity

@othersideoutlawsnetwork

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi. I blame my friend for sending this video and asking me to write this LOL.

ATEEZ Main Masterlist

Yunho stared at the scene in front of him, ignoring whatever Wooyoung was saying next to him. He was watching with hawk eyes as you carefully draped and swiped at the silk shirt that Mingi was wearing, trying to make sure it looked absolutely, perfect on him.

Yunho couldn't help but be a tad jealous that his stylist girlfriend was being so careful and doting with Mingi's outfit. Sure, she did her job, but never this attentive.

"Yunho, did you even hear me?" Wooyoung suddenly said, looking at him funny. "Or are you staring at your girlfriend being friendly again?"

Yunho shook his head, turning his gaze away and focusing back on his bandmate. "Yeah, sorry. What were you saying again?"

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, sighing. "Nevermind. I'll go ask Jongho."

As Wooyoung walked off, Yunho took a deep breath, looking back towards you.

It had been about three years since you became his girlfriend, and the jealousy he felt every time you worked with his group members never faded. Sure, he never showed it. He didn't want to seem controlling, or that he didn't trust you. But every time he saw you helping a bandmate, or laughing and joking around, or giving someone a little affectionate smack, it drove him up the wall.

"Okay, we're all set. Thanks for being so patient, Mingi." You smiled brightly, giving the taller man a small pat on the shoulder.

Mingi nodded. "I should be thanking you. This is the most comfortable outfit I've worn yet."

"Good." You laughed, picking up your supplies and walking towards your boyfriend. "What do you think, Yuyu?"

Yunho stared blankly at you. The nickname you had given him made him feel a bit better, but seeing the way you and Mingi interacted made him want to pull you away from him and give him a piece of his mind.

But he couldn't.

"I love it." He simply said. "Mingi looks great."

"Good." You chuckled, leaning in to press a small kiss to his cheek. "Now go out there and shine!"

"Thank you, love." Yunho sighed, leaning in to capture your lips into a soft, yet passionate kiss. He pulled away, his hand grabbed onto yours, his eyes boring into yours. "I'll see you later."

You gave him a puzzled look but nodded. "Of course."

You watched as Yunho left the room, walking over to his fellow members. They all had a serious discussion, before walking onto the stage. You smiled as the boys bowed and waved, getting into their first position.

You were proud of your boyfriend.

"Hey, Y/N." San called from the side, as you turned to look at him. "Do you think you could help me with my hair after the performance? It keeps falling in my eyes, and I don't like it."

"Of course!" You smiled. "We'll just have to wait until you're done though."

"Thank you." San grinned, waving his hand as he turned his attention back to the stage.

You followed his gaze, seeing that the performance was almost over.

Your heart swelled with pride, your lips forming into a wide smile as the boys bowed and walked off the stage. You rushed over to them, wrapping your arms around Yunho's body as he came towards you.

"You guys were amazing!" You cheered. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, love." Yunho chuckled, wrapping an arm around you and kissing the top of your head. "It's all because of you."

You blushed, shaking your head. "No. It's all because of your hard work."

Yunho smiled. "Yeah. Well, thank you anyway."

He looked up, his eyes locking onto his other bandmates.

He was still a bit jealous, but knowing you loved him helped him not to feel too bad.

"Oh yeah… San wanted me to help him with his hair." You said, pulling away from the hug and looking at Yunho. "I'll be back in a bit, okay?"

Yunho sighed. "Okay, love. Take your time."

You smiled, standing on your toes to peck his lips before walking away.

Yunho watched as you went over to San, starting to help him. He sighed, his heart fluttering at the thought that he was the only one you'd go home with.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Jealous again, Yuyu?"

He looked up, seeing Wooyoung smiling at him. "What? No. Of course not."

"Sure." Wooyoung snorted. "Come on, let's go change."

Yunho followed Wooyoung to the dressing room, changing into his casual clothes. Once they were done, they walked back into the main room, where you were still working with San.

"Okay, you're all set." You said, smiling widely.

San chuckled, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, and gave it a tight squeeze. "Thank you, Y/N."

"Of course." You smiled. "Have a good day, San."

San smiled, pulling away and turning to Yunho and Wooyoung. "I'm going to the studio with Jongho and Seonghwa. See you later."

The two men nodded, waving as San walked away.

"So..." You hummed, wrapping your arms around Yunho's body. "What do you wanna do now, baby?"

Yunho raised a brow, his hands resting on your hips. "I don't know. What do you wanna do?"

You giggled, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him. "Let's go watch a movie at home."

"Sounds like a plan." Yunho chuckled, leaning in to press his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. "I love you, Y/N."

"And I love you, Yunho." You grinned, pecking his lips once more.

Yunho smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Let's go."

He led you out of the room, the two of you leaving the company building and making your way back to your shared apartment.

"Hey, love?" Yunho said, opening the door.

"Yes?" You said, looking over at him as he entered.

"Are you happy?" He asked, closing the door and walking over to you.

"What?" You blinked, tilting your head.

"Are you happy?" He repeated.

"What kind of question is that?" You chuckled, wrapping your arms around him.

"I just want to know if you're happy." Yunho sighed, his arms going around your body. "Being my girlfriend."

"Of course I'm happy." You hummed, standing on your toes to press your lips to his. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'm not enough for you." Yunho shrugged, looking down at you.

You furrowed your brows, looking up at him. "Not enough? How could you ever think that?"

Yunho frowned. "Because you're always hanging around the other members."

"Yunho, that's my job." You huffed.

"I know, but I can't help but get jealous when I see you being all sweet and caring with them," Yunho muttered.

"Are you?" You blinked. "I don't understand. I'm doing what I'm paid to do."

"I know, but you're still being touchy and cuddly." Yunho frowned. "Even with San."

You snorted. "You're worried about San? Baby, he's like a little brother to me."

Yunho looked away, not responding.

"Yunho, baby, I love you. Just you." You said, placing your hand on his cheek, causing him to turn and look at you. "There's no reason for you to worry about anything."

"I know, but I still can't help but worry sometimes." Yunho mumbled, pressing his forehead against yours.

"How come you never told me about being jealous? You're always looking at me with a happy, smiling face. I never would've guessed." You sighed.

"Because I didn't want to come off as possessive." Yunho answered, closing his eyes. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You could've just told me." You mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"I know." He breathed, a small smile on his lips. "I'm sorry, love. I guess I just didn't want to ruin our relationship."

"Nothing could ruin our relationship, baby." You cooed, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. "And you know, I'm not interested in the guys. I love you. And only you. There's no reason to be jealous."

"I know." Yunho sighed. "It's just hard."

"I understand." You said, running your hand through his hair. "I can try and be less affectionate with the members if it makes you feel better."

"No, don't do that," Yunho said, shaking his head. "I'll be okay. As long as I know you love me, and only me."

"I do." You smiled, your hands running up his chest. "Besides, who would match my freak in bed if not you?"

"You're right." Yunho let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. He smiled, leaning in to peck your lips.

"I am." You hummed, pulling away from the kiss. "Now come on. I want to watch a movie."

Yunho nodded, taking your hand in his and leading you to the couch. He sat down, pulled you down with him, and wrapped an arm around you, holding you close.

"What do you wanna watch, love?" Yunho asked, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.

"Hmm... I don't know. Something romantic." You hummed.

"Okay, how about we just binge on Netflix and find a movie later." Yunho chuckled, looking down at you.

"How about...something sexy?" You giggled, leaning up and pressing a few kisses along his jaw.

Yunho smiled, leaning into your touch. "Sexy? Like what?"

"You know, like a hot chick getting railed by a tall ass giant." You hummed, nipping his skin lightly.

"Oh really?" Yunho smirked, his hands going to your thighs and squeezing them gently.

"Mhm." You hummed, moving so you're straddling him, your lips going to his neck. "And a big dick too."

Yunho laughed, his hands sliding up and cupping your ass. "Well, it looks like we'll be watching porn tonight."

You giggled, biting his neck lightly. "I guess so."

Yunho hummed, his fingers dipping under your shirt and running over the skin of your back. "You know, I'm glad you're my girlfriend."

"Why is that?" You asked, your hands roaming over his chest.

"Because, if you weren't, I'd have to fight off a lot of guys who wanted to date you." Yunho hummed, his hands trailing up and down your sides.

You smiled, your hand reaching up to cup his face. "I'm glad I'm your girlfriend too, because if I wasn't, I'd have to worry about all those girls trying to steal you from me."

Yunho laughed, leaning in and capturing your lips into a slow, deep kiss. His hands trailed down your back, cupping your ass and squeezing it lightly.

"What would you do if a girl was hitting on me?" Yunho asked, his eyes gazing into yours.

"I'd probably tell her to fuck off." You shrugged.

"And what if she didn't listen?" Yunho questioned, his hand coming up to brush some hair out of your face.

"Then I'd kick her ass." You laughed.

Yunho chuckled. "Would you really?"

"Hell yeah." You grinned. "You're mine, and I'm not sharing you with anyone. See, I could be jealous too."

Yunho laughed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. "Good, because I'm not sharing you either."

"Good." You smiled, your hands going to his face.

"So, should we watch porn or not?" Yunho chuckled.

"Yeah." You hummed. "I could use a good pounding right now."

"You read my mind." Yunho grinned, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.

He searched for a good porn movie, before pressing play.

You watched as the couple on the screen started having sex. The woman was moaning and begging for more, while the man pounded into her relentlessly.

"You think we could be freakier than them? Or that you could be rougher than him?" You asked, looking over at your boyfriend.

"Is that a challenge?" Yunho raised a brow, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Maybe." You smirked.

"Well, then let's make this a challenge," Yunho said, flipping you onto your back and hovering over you. "Whoever comes first, loses."

"Okay, but you're definitely going to lose." You chuckled, leaning up and capturing his lips into a heated kiss.

"We'll see about that." Yunho said, pulling away and grabbing the bottom of your shirt, tugging it off of your body. His hands reached behind you, unhooking your bra and tossing it aside. He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked on the nub, before swirling his tongue around it. He did the same with the other one, causing you to moan softly. He pulled away, looking up at you with lustful eyes.

"Fuck." He breathed, leaning back down and kissing his way down your body.

"Yunho..." You moaned, your hands running through his hair.

Yunho pulled away, his hand trailing down your body and slipping under the waistband of your pants.

"Already wet, huh?" He chuckled, rubbing your clit.

You moaned, your head falling back as you arched into his touch. "Yunho, please."

"Please what?" Yunho asked, his long fingers slowly sinking into you.

"More." You moaned, your hand going down to grab his wrist, making him thrust his fingers in and out of you faster.

Yunho hummed, watching you come undone by his fingers.

"You're so beautiful, baby." Yunho said, his thumb going to your clit and rubbing it in small circles. He added another finger, pumping them in and out of you quickly.

"Yunho." You gasped, arching into his touch. ”More”

"Oh, I'll give you more." Yunho growled, his fingers curling up and hitting that special spot within you.

"Ah, yes!" You moaned, your hands going to his shoulders and gripping them tightly.

Yunho continued to fuck you with his fingers, his thumb brushing over your clit. "You're gonna come for me, aren't you? You're gonna come on my fingers like a good little girl, aren't you?"

"Yunho." You whimpered, your eyes closed shut as you felt your orgasm building.

"Come for me, baby. Come for me." Yunho commanded, his free hand coming up to wrap around your neck, applying the slightest amount of pressure.

That did it for you.

You came, crying out his name as your walls clenched around his fingers.

"That's my good girl." Yunho hummed, slowly withdrawing his fingers. He brought his hand up to his lips, sucking them clean. "So, do you admit defeat?"

"Fuck no." You grinned, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a deep kiss. You flipped the two of you over, so you're now on top of him. "Now it's my turn."

Yunho grinned as he watched your fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans. He helped you, and soon, his pants and underwear were tossed aside, his large cock springing free.

You licked your lips, before leaning down and licking a stripe from base to tip.

"Oh, fuck." Yunho groaned, his hand coming down and tangling into your hair. You let out a small moan as you felt his long fingers tighten around your hair, tugging on it lightly. You took the tip of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it gently.

"That's my good girl." Yunho whispered, his free hand grabbing onto the couch as he tried to ground himself.

You hummed, taking more of him into your mouth.

"So good." Yunho moaned, his hips bucking up involuntarily.

You moaned, his cock hitting the back of your throat.

"Fuck, Y/N." Yunho moaned, his fingers tightening in your hair.

You bobbed your head up and down his shaft, your hand wrapping around the base of his cock and stroking what your mouth couldn't reach. Yunho groaned, his hips bucking up, sending his cock further down your throat. You choked slightly, tears forming in your eyes as he fucked your throat.

"Come on, baby. I know you can take it." Yunho moaned, his hand coming down and resting on the back of your head, pushing you further onto his cock.

You relaxed your throat, letting him fuck your mouth.

"Yes, just like that." Yunho moaned, his hips snapping upwards. He pulled out, allowing you to take a few deep breaths, before shoving his cock back down your throat.

You moaned, your eyes screwed shut as his thick member invaded your mouth.

"You're doing so good, baby." Yunho praised, his hand gripping your hair tightly as he fucked your mouth. "Such a good girl for me."

You moaned, sending vibrations throughout his body.

"That's it." Yunho moaned, his fingers tightening their grip on your hair. "Such a good girl. Swallow my cock, baby."

You moaned, feeling his cock hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck, Y/N." Yunho groaned, his hand moving down to grip the back of your head.

He came, his seed shooting down your throat. You swallowed every last drop, licking his shaft clean before pulling away.

"So, do you admit defeat?" You smirked, crawling up his body and straddling him.

"I think I need to go again to decide." Yunho grinned, rolling the two of you over, pinning your arms above your head. "Let's see how many rounds it takes before you submit to me."

"You're on." You laughed, leaning up and connecting your lips in a passionate kiss.

"You're mine, and only mine, Y/N." Yunho breathed, pulling away and gazing into your eyes.

"Of course I am, Yunho. I'm all yours." You smiled, pecking his lips.

He nodded, a grin appearing on his face. "Now, let's continue with what we were doing."

And he was right.

You did lose the challenge.

Many times.

But you didn't complain.

After all, Yunho is yours.

And you're his.

Only his.

#illusionnet #atzhouse #cromernet #wonderlandnet #kvanity #other side outlaws network #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez stories #ateez smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader

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dadsdog · 25 days ago

Note

Sorry I've never done one of these before, but for your prompts/imagines could you please maybe do one about a "girl" joining a fight club because she's so angry and full of teenage rebellion and he slowly gets bloodied and forcemasced by all the other older guys in the club, thank you

age gap forcemasc you will always be famous. i wrote literally SO MUCH for this i might have to make it multiple parts. so i guess if you boys like it i can post some more :]

they didn't treat me any differently than they did each other. when we wrestled and traded blows, they didn't go easy on me. i had grown so used to being treated like a delicate commodity, always in danger of injury or embarrassment. here, the guys make me feel like a person. strong, ruthless, capable. one of them. getting the wind punched out from my gut excited me. all the bruises and bloody noses, they felt like trophies. these guys, my friends, hurt me just how i needed it, and they let me do the same in turn.

they insisted upon shaving my head, as all the long hair was always getting in the way.

"don't worry, you're going to look so good man. the long hair is gonna hold you back."

"man... the buzz cut really shows off your face. a lot of guys would kill for your features, kid."

"if it weren't for your clothes, you'd look like a guy. maybe we should swap those out next, huh bud?"

i would walk into the locker room and feel their eyes linger on me. they would say "have you ever considered going on t? i think it would give you a leg up at your age."

"i could share my t gel with you, if you want to try."

"there's no harm in seeing if it works out. i think it's gonna be the perfect fit for you."

a few of them sat me down and took my shirt off to expose my arm.

"speaking of, have you ever worn a binder? no reason, just curious how you would look is all."

"i think i have a clean one in my gym bag. i'm gonna go grab it."

all the changes came on so quickly. suddenly when i looked in the mirror, there was a happy trail leading down to my boxers. when had i started wearing boxers? i started having to shave my face in the morning, and stopped shaving everything else. i was wearing a binder when i wasn't fighting or exercising. my clothes no longer fit like a girls. i had barely even noticed.

when we weren't trading blows, they were giving me lessons on how to posture myself, how to speak.

"it'll help people to know not to overlook you. take up more space."

"yeah, and stop sitting with your legs together. there you go."

"good boy."

they started to call me that. whenever i did something they approved of, one of them would ruffle my hair and say "that's my boy." i had tried to tell them im a girl the first few times.

"what? c'mon, even you aren't buying that."

"look at you, you're just as much of a guy as the rest of us."

"don't say stuff like that, kid. unless you want us to really kick your ass."

their touches lingered. a playful chokehold would turn into hanging an arm around my shoulder. grabbing me from behind would lead to their hands on my waist. they would ask how i was feeling on t. comment on how good i looked with more body hair. how easily i was building muscle now.

"have you had any bottom growth? yeah?"

"i'm so proud of you, champ. do you wanna let us see?"

"i bet you do, kiddo."

they were right. i wanted them to see how much i'd grown. suddenly, the towel around my waist was being pulled away. leaving me completely exposed to them. they stepped closer, surrounding me. i felt strong, calloused hands hold my shoulders and waist, keeping me still. spreading my thighs wide, so they could get a proper view.

"aw, your cock is so cute baby boy."

"guys do this all the time, don't worry."

"maybe one day you'll be as big as the rest of us."

at that, i looked down to see their towels cast aside. they were older, been on t longer, but jesus. their tdicks were huge compared to me. i gasped as i felt myself being pulled towards another body by the hips. "look how different ours are, kiddo. maybe yours will be bigger once it's hard."

i was pulled along to sit on the bench, my thighs being spread apart. "now what did we say about sitting with your legs together?" i let out a whine as kisses were being trailed up my hairy thighs, stubble tickling my skin. i look to either side of myself and realize im eye level with their cocks. i look up at them as they pet my hair and rub my shoulders.

"you wanna taste?" i nod and feel a hand tighten its grip on my hair. "a boy your age, it's about time someone showed you how to suck cock, huh?" my face was pushed against his crotch, letting me smell him.

suddenly i felt lips finally meet my tdick, he was giving my cock gentle kisses, occasionally pausing to put it between his fingers and stroke me. the moan that escaped me let the other man's cock slide into my mouth. "yeah.. there we go boy, you can do it." he used the hand in my hair to push my head up and down the shaft of his cock, using my mouth as i whimpered and moaned.

pulling me off his cock, letting me pause for breath, i felt another pair of hands bring my face towards his cock instead. they surrounded me, standing over me, their cocks hard around my face. they were touching and groping me. making comments about what a handsome young man i was becoming, how well behaved im being, how proud they are of me. as my mouth was being passed around, they traded places a took turns on my cock as well. i could hear the grunts of pleasure as one man fucked my face, as well as the satisfied growl of another man with his mouth around my cock.

"you're turning out to be such a good boy," one said, holding my face in his hand, "aren't you glad we taught you how?"

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eloquentlytired · 3 months ago

Text

18+ NSFW. MDNI.

fisherman! logan howlett x older! reader

word count: a lot

warning(s): smut, build up to smut, logan is 30 while the reader is in her 40s ( u choose how much ), cheating, logan is smitten with his beloved customer, reader has a daughter, and logan calls the reader mama sometimes bc she is indeed the best mama, reader’s husband is a dckhead if it makes u feel better, mentions of neglect and shitty behavior ( from husband ), but logan makes everything better, I LOWKEY LOVED WRITING THIS

note: I haven't written for older!reader before but I hope I didn't disappoint you my beloved anon! In the meantime I hope everyone enjoys reading this one if YES pls interact it'd make me happy🩷🥰 thank you always for the support !!!

There's nothing that makes Logan happier than doing the work he likes. It's a blessing to have found a small area he's fond of and an even bigger blessing to help out customers. Or to help you specifically.

Logan sees you for the first time when he opens the fish shop — it's the first one to open after the old one has shut down. You greet him with the sweetest smile while your daughter holds your hand.

“Good morning.” You tell him so kindly and your smile turns out to be contagious because Logan returns it instantly.

You ask him about his life and how he's ended up in this place while Logan prepares your groceries. He tells you but purposely leaves some things out of the way. It isn't wise of him to talk about his mutant abilities either way, he wouldn't want to scare you.

He finishes your order purposely slow but you don't tell him off, you don't even reprimand him for it. You smile and wave him off — and your sweet daughter does too.

After that he sees you many times. If he was a fool he'd assume that your diet is mostly sea food but no — Logan has caught on. And you have caught on his stares in return.

“My husband likes this but I much prefer tuna. I'm not sure why.” You tell him as you scan the new products he's stuffed his shop with.

Logan nods.

“Tuna is the best in my opinion.” He says.

“You really think so?” The way your eyes sparkle when you ask him, happy to just share something common with another person.

Logan is an absolute loser— “I really think so.” —and he actually despises tuna.

It's raining heavily when you enter his shop one day, drenched from head to toe. You're shivering while your hands are filled with shopping bags, making your shoulders fall because of the weight. Logan rushes to you — he was about to close up but it doesn't matter anymore — and takes the bags from your hands, stacking them on the counter of his shop.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him softly and Logan can hear the regret in your tone. “I know I shouldn't have come so late. I was trying to stack up the fridge because of the incoming storm. And I've left my daughter in the house alone too, my husband wouldn't pick up the phone—” He's heard that one before from you surely. The bastard.

You stop talking when Logan is suddenly by your side, wrapping a blanket around your shivering body. Your eyes meet and Logan prays that he stays sane through it all. Promises he hasn't noticed the way your long dress has become one with your skin or how the little mascara you've worn has run down your cheeks. Yet you look flawless to him.

“Hey.” Logan calls your name softly and you wonder when it's the last time you've heard someone say it like that, in that loving tone.

Logan doesn't speak your name to order you around to do his laundry or his food. Or the dishes. Or the chores. Or the gardening. Or...

His palm is warm when it settles on your shoulder and it pulls you off your trance. He's kind with his touch and with his gaze — Logan always has been with you. “I’ve got you.” He mutters and you break down in his arms.

Moments later, he's dragged you into the back of the shop and you sit on top of a counter wearing his clothes, sweatpants and a sweater, which barely fit. Logan is big— really big.

“I look ridiculous.” You say with a small chuckle but Logan's eyes regard you differently as he cooks. For you.

“You look perfect.” He whispers and it makes you freeze a little, makes you question everything that the golden ring around your finger stands for.

He notices, of course he does, but he doesn't mention it. Hell, Logan doesn't even think he cares when your husband is the way he is.

“Tell you what.” He suddenly says breaking the long silence. His hands move swiftly as he finishes preparing a giant portion of tuna and rice. You watch as he places the food in tupperware, counting the little boxes. “This is big enough to feed three people and coincidentally—” Both of you smile at the last word. “— we are two. And your daughter is one more, isn't she?”

Your heart beats fast within your chest and your tears prickle your eyes. It's perfect. It's too good to be true.

“I would hate for this food to go to waste and I'm sure the two of you are starving.” You watch him as he uses one hand to hold the food bag and the other to carry your other six shopping bags.

You move forward, hands reaching out so you can help him but Logan tuts instead and uses his knee to keep you back.

“I dare you.” He grumbles playfully and you nearly shudder because of the way he says it.

“You should respect your elders, Logan.” You manage to say between heavy breaths but all Logan does is feel amused.

He grins, then takes a step closer and you momentarily lose air when he leans too close. “Careful, mama. I wouldn't want you to be late.”

You stare at him still processing his words as he walks away to start his car. The ring around your finger feels weightless.

The dinner is good and you can't register a time when both you and your daughter have laughed so hard before. Dinner is usually dull, especially with your husband around, but you didn't even miss the good old times anymore. They were always overshadowed by the bad ones.

You watch as Logan plays with your daughter and your heart secretly flutters. Yearns for a different life than the one you have right now.

But it's too late, you think, and Logan could still build a good life with someone his age. Why would you even destroy that when he's been so good to you?

But then Logan turns to you and begins to talk. I'll do the dishes, don't you dare move. Stop thinking so much, you'll hurt your pretty mind. What a lucky girl to have a mama like this one.

So that's why you can't let go.

Your daughter is fast asleep. Husband nowhere in sight. No answers, no nothing.

Logan watches you from where he's doing the dishes, sitting on the couch and looking outside. You've drawn the curtains open to watch the rain. It's worrisome weather but it somehow soothes you.

“You worried about him?” Logan suddenly asks, taking you by surprise.

“I should be but I..” You shake your head and leave it at that. Logan understands.

There's more silence but it's not uncomfortable. There's no such word when Logan is around you, taking care of you. He wraps it up with the dishes and heads over to your stereo, fidgeting with it to find a signal.

“It won't work, Lo. Leave it.” You tell him softly and the petname makes him want to drop dead. In a good way of course.

Logan doesn't listen — he searches and searches. Then he finds it and turns to you with a wide grin in his face as if expecting some sort of praise.

Instead, he walks to you while the unknown beat of jazz fills the living room and offers you his hand.

“I don't think we should..” Your voice trails off when Logan doesn't budge. He simply won't.

You take his hand as he pulls you to the center of the room and slides an arm around your waist being so carefully. You rest your hand on his shoulder while your other two intertwine.

He sways with you and you sway with him. There's rhythm, there's harmony. There's something there you haven't had for over a decade and although Logan could have anybody else in this world, he looks most content there. With you.

“There are many people out there for you.” You begin to say as he leans his head closer to yours.

He doesn't reply so you insist.

“People your age. As old as you are—” Logan spins you around and then presses his chest against your back. You're somehow all over him, moving against him.

Both of his hands move to your waist and Logan takes the courage to press his lips against the spot behind your ear.

“I hate tuna.” Logan mumbles, his voice raspy and filled with need. His next actions shock you as he slides one of his hands over yours and strokes over your wedding ring. Logan grips it, removes it and lifts it to your eye level. “But I hate this more.”

The moment he tosses it away, he turns you around and his eyes speak so many things. Need. Desperation. Love. Struggle.

“Wear it back and I'll leave. Don't—” He swallows nervously. “—and I'll make you happy, mama. I swear I will.” But you've never doubted that for a second.

You stare at the carpet, at that little golden band shimmering somewhere. Then back at Logan.

“I’ll hold you back. You'll get bored with me, of me. Having me and my daughter— you won't—”

Logan kisses you because he can't stand listening. But he also can't stand holding back anymore.

The surprise is momentary as you squeeze your arms around his shoulders, struggling to fit all of him into a hug. Logan surprises you more when he uses a single arm to pick you up by your hips, your legs instinctively locking around his waist.

“Lo—”

You're more desperate than he is and for so many different reasons. He carries you to the nearest efficient surface — the dining table — and sits you there carefully.

Your eyes lock for a moment as Logan steals another kiss from you. “You want the ring?” He asks and you almost laugh. Fuck the ring.

You're the one who initiates the next kiss, tilting your head to deepen the action. Your hands tremble with excitement, Logan's tremble because he's never touched such a beautiful woman before in his entire life. His woman.

He's quick with your his clothes although a little messy. You can feel his excitement but also his nerves shifting as he reaches for your bra next, struggling to take it off.

“Easy.” You whisper against his lips and Logan is surely dead, must be dreaming. The hook never comes off because Logan rips the front of your bra with his bare hands and disregards it like it's nothing.

You can feel yourself physically react, cunt clenching around nothing although you want it to be around him. Now.

He's right here, your arms wrapped around his head as Logan takes a bud into his mouth and sucks. You react by whimpering softly and Logan sucks harder as his hand occupies your other breast, fondling it within his fingers.

The attention on your chest makes you weak, you love it. You're sensitive, he murmurs before grazing your nipple with his teeth. “I need more.” You find the courage to tell him and Logan nods because so does he.

His fingers grip your panties and rip it too — he has no control over that. It's like a primal urge to do it.

“How long?” Logan asks as he rubs two fingers across your cunt, parting your lips teasingly before releasing them. Every motion offers a wet noise from you. It's embarrassing.

“I don't remember.” You answer and it's all he needs to know to confirm about the failure your husband is.

You watch Logan drop to his knees. His eyes are blown wide with lust and his mouth parts as if starving. You realize what he wants and that he's been craving this moment since forever. The thought alone makes you shiver.

“I have never—” done this, you want to tell him but Logan let's his youth take over his reactions.

His hands are strong around your thighs, they're secure and sure. He won't drop you and you fucking know it as he guides your lower half over his face and sits you down hard.

Your hands shoot up to cover your mouth.

Logan mouths against your pussy before parting your folds with his tongue, dragging it high and low. Your hips shake and he flexes his fingers around your thighs, squeezing every skin he can get.

He licks everywhere. All of you.

His face gets buried into your weeping pussy as his nose grinds against your clit and his tongue circles your entrance teasingly slow. There's too much coming out of you, you're like an endless stream, and Logan isn't afraid to taste every drop.

It becomes worse when he distances you from the table and your legs dangle off the floor. You stare wide eyed because your only means of support is Logan's hands on your hips oh — and his face which has basically turned into your personal seat.

“Logan wait—” You yelp but your voice is muffled by your hands.

Logan doesn't listen, doesn't even pull away to breathe. The man is starved and there's only one thing he wants to achieve — to eat you whole.

You've given up trying to reason with him especially when he eats you out this way. You move your hips fast and are desperate to reach your peak. Logan's fingers tighten around your thighs as he guides your thrusts, moaning while you ride his face.

You bite your lip as you throw your head back and arch your entire body, thighs shaking around Logan's head. He wiggles his tongue against your clit as you orgasm, the stimulation of your bud making your entire body quiver.

He's got you, hands steadier than ever and keeping you safe, as you come.

When he slowly pulls you off, you look down at him but the concern melts away. You stare at his face and faint beard covered by your slick. It's not embarrassing anymore — it's different. You can't have enough.

The door of your marital bedroom is shut and locked firmly. Whatever shame or guilt you might have felt at the start, it doesn't exist anymore.

Your legs dangle on Logan's shoulders as he pounds you, his cock rummaging through your tight walls and hitting spots you didn't even know existed. Not like this.

His balls are heavy again and full of the load he wants to fill you with. But it's been hours like this and he hasn't stopped — Logan is something else.

“You think you can fit one more for me? Let me fill you up?” His lips brush against your ear and you shiver. You nod, lips fallen wide for sometime now and blabbering incoherent words. Logan only catches the more leaving your lips.

His hands keep your legs risen and over his shoulders as he fucks you, his balls smacking against your skin with each pound. They're covered in cum too because of how many times Logan has filled you, some of it pouring out.

It's too much but at the same time not nearly enough.

Your hands twist the bedsheets beneath you and you look at him — silently pleading with him to swallow your noises. Logan knows and his lips find yours, silencing you just in time as he comes again and pours his seed into you for the last time.

His heels dig against the bed because it's so intense as you squeeze around him and use one of your hands to toy with your over sensitive clit, feeling it all. Taking everything in.

“Logan.” You moan against the kisses and he grunts softly, swallowing every sound and word. You come around his cock with a shuddering gasp again and Logan releases your legs to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into him.

Your hands move enough to grip his bare shoulders, scratching them.

“Ride it out. So good.” Logan pants while squeezing you by your waist, lying on his side and dragging you with him.

He guides your hip around him, letting his hand linger there as his cock softens within you.

“There she is.” Logan whispers, looking at you. Seeing you receiving pleasure is one thing but to witness your peaceful expression, looking so content and happy... How could Logan ever let go of that?

You grab a hold of the hand that caresses your thigh and bring it to your lips. Logan watches you as you kiss every space between and on top of his knuckles, eyes fluttering. Your gaze lingers and so does his.

“You know.” He states after a while, nose brushing against yours.

“I know.” You reply and his heart jumps a little; not knowing if it's good or bad that you've discovered his true nature. His mutant side.

You kiss him, slow and gentle.

“You’re beautiful.” Is the answer that slips out of your lips and Logan wants to take you all over again but he doesn't. It isn't his intention to break you in such little time — now is just the start.

His strong arms pull you close and he blindly reaches for something. A blanket. He covers you with it and when your eyes meet again, Logan nudges your nose with his.

“You’re so perfect.” He says, voice raspy per usual, and kisses your face. Your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. “Gonna fucking die for you. Kill too.”

Your heart fills with affection and love. Your worries and the demons keeping you away from him are long gone now — Logan is right there. He's chosen you like you've chosen him. There's only one thing left to do.

“You happen to have two spots open in your heart?” You ask him and Logan smiles — it's the widest smile you've ever seen from him.

He nods.

“Just two? We can make it more than that. If you want I'll make you a mama again right now—” He's blowing raspberries at your nape as you wiggle, supposedly trying to shake away from his grip. That hollow room is filled with laughter after years of dullness.

Like you've said.

There's only one thing left to do.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x older reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine #hugh jackman #logan x reader #eloquentlytired #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #hugh jackman x reader #logan howlett fluff #fisherman au #older reader #marvel #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman x you #logan wolverine

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sweetly-yours-and-mine · 1 month ago

Text

The Band Played On

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 8.5k

Summary: You'd never met someone who loved the way Joel Miller did.

Warnings: talk of death of a spouse and child, age gap (less than ten years), brief suicidal thoughts, mentions of depression, yEaRnInG, author is very sensitive pls be nice, i was listening to the song of the same name by Guy Lombardo,

A/N: She's back baby! This one has been in the works for over a year (eep), and is basically just a love letter to @mirrormauve and I'm so glad she's back now and I've finally finished it. Becs, I love you with all my heart <3.

I don't own photos, dividers, or characters.

You’d never met someone who loved the way Joel Miller did.

His severe, violent dedication to it, bits of soul laid down on the ground as offerings to the gods. Cracking open his chest, tearing off each rib and handing it over, not to say here is my heart but to say, here is the thing that protects my heart, it reminds me of you.

You thought this love was only talked about, only dreamt up.

But then you’d been on a walk, in the early spring with the Earth vibrating with promise and you’d seen Joel, the worn, well-loved brown of his leather jacket, greying, long strands of his hair brushing against its collar, and you’d seen Joel, beside a tree, wrapping rope around its broken limp, saying soft things under his breath. You’ll be alright, yeah. That’s okay, I’ll be back soon, his voice heavy and measured with his drawl, warm. His fingers drifting over new buds, still tightly curled like a clenched fist, and cooing out his pride like a lullaby.

Joel loved fiercely, savage and primal. There was nothing beautiful about the way he did it, but it was simple, it was honest and true and gentle. It was his work-roughened hands catching against fabric, his prickly stubble against his niece’s soft skin, the smell of whiskey on his breath and leather on his skin.

His love wasn’t that of the ocean to the shore, the sun to the moon, the moon to the ocean. A tiring push and pull, illusive and fickle.

He loved the way the soil loved the roots, giving over chunks of himself for nourishment and food.

He loved the way the roots loved the soil, wooden fingers clutching tight against dirt and turning it dewy and tender with love. Constant, reliable, never changing. A tried and true dance that would continue to the end of time.

He drew you to him unknowingly. Unravelled your affection for him like a ball of yarn, stringing it around everywhere he went, lighting up street corners and houses the way lamplighters used to do each evening in a world before you, Joel, and the slow thing he was knitting inside of you, row after patient row.

Your eyes followed him like a magnet to the North, unknowingly, intrinsically, like breathing, drinking water. You found grooves and corners in Joel Miller that you revelled in, that you painted up inside your mind and took home with you to hang on your empty walls.

The way he holds his spoon, wipes his mouth. The gnarled knots of his fingers’ joints. The rose-like curling of the skin around his eyes and mouth when he laughs, the way he touches and does so deliberately with intent and purpose.

You walk by his house in the evenings, catching the glint of his eyes from the yellow porch light as he strums his guitar, the one he pieced together the way he did that tree. Ellie running home at all hours of the day, the trust held between them branching out towards Jackson like coconut, the aroma subtle, blink and you’ll miss it. But it hangs in the air like humidity, like frost on window panes or the fog of your breath against glass during the harsh Wyoming winters.

You crave more, you’re starving for it. You want Joel’s love, and you want it because you’re selfish, because you don’t like the empty half of your bed, and you think he’d look nice in it, his golden skin and grey hair against floral sheets. You long more than anything to be part of the souls he holds up to the light and plops into his pocket like a marble collection.

Whenever you are where Joel is, you look at him, fleeting glances in his direction like a heartbeat, over and over, rhythmic and regular. You’re eager to see more of him, to see him when he doesn’t know you’re watching so you can trace the curve of his neck with your eyes and pretend it’s your hands instead, to feel the soft hairs that grow there like peach fuzz.

Joel loves in spades, in heaping bucketfuls of it. It strains throughout Jackson like a liquid heavier than water, curling around each corner in a warm embrace. You can’t go anywhere without being faced by it, the door hinge he’d fixed, the chairs he’d stacked, the floors he’d swept. The love he’s spread around soaking into your shoes and through your socks, drifting up towards your ankles and making your bones ache.

It’s hard to deal with it. Its constant, uncompromising presence. The true reality of the man that he was, is.

It’s even harder to deal with your craving for it, the way your skin sings for it, the way your lungs chase each trace of it they find in the air.

Maria finds you one day in the gardens, asks, gently hesitant, for you to come over for dinner. You wonder if it was out of concern or pity for the life you lead alone, the simple, yet tried and true routine you occupy your days with.

Worse than that, you begin to fear that she’s picked up on the fascination you’ve grown for her brother-in-law and the way his worn belt sits on his hips.

And so to not aggravate it anymore, you agree to spend an evening close to Joel.

Not alone with him, Tommy and Maria are at the table as well, Ellie coming and going, breaking conversation into brittle pieces of Sohan, but still you’re close and he gives you a brief taste of what sharing love with him could look like.

His voice is rumbly and deep, river-like as it streams and trips over smooth rocks. The whiskey has loosened him up a bit, the straight, hard edges of his body softening over with comfort, the weight of survival lifted off of him.

He’s pretty. You want him to reach inside of you and grab your heart, start pumping it for you and press his mouth against yours so you can share air together.

It’s hard to focus around him, your eyes not wanting to work in tandem whenever they look in his direction, as if protecting you from what might happen if you manage to see him clearly, his peppering of a beard and moustache, the engravings of smile lines on his face.

To abate the beating inside your chest, you get up for some water, go to refill Maria’s glass while you’re at it. Out of fear of the emotions he’s drawing out of you and your chest.

You want to calm down, be normal about him and this growing obsession inside of you for an older man. Yet your body and mind refuse to do so vehemently, almost to seek vengeance on you for wanting to quell it, pour water over the burning fire.

As you stand at the counter, waiting for the water to boil and tracing the top button of your jeans round and round with the pad of your finger, you hear Joel and his lopsided walk follow you, his left foot dragging more than his right.

“Hey.”

The word falls at the end of itself, stretches against the ground. You follow the trails it leaves in the air, like citrus oil that sparks out of a freshly-peeled orange, bursting out like dust motes in a vibrant sunbeam.

“Hi,” you turn around, smile at him as best as you can through the tangling of your lungs and stomach.

Joel looks over his shoulder, back at Tommy and Maria, at Ellie, nudged into her uncle’s side, then he turns to you, “Nice evening.”

You agree with him, though to yourself you think it’s only because of him, because of the cloud that hangs humid about him, makes the edges of his body go soft and blurry, grainy like all photos are, incapable of catching the true essence of what made them photo-worthy.

He comes and leans against the counter beside you, hands folded on top of each other. A lock of his hair falls into his forehead and you think if he’d let it, you’d brush it away and go straight to the graveyard so you could die happy, dragging your stone along with you like a blanket.

It takes everything inside of you to not inch closer to him.

Despite the community and support that surrounds you everyday, you’re still lonely, still aching for something else. Something to come home to. To be something for someone to come home to.

You have faint visions of Joel in the doorway of your house, revel in the way he’d drape his jacket over the couch. You want to see him basked in the glow of an early morning, to see his sleep-rumpled shirt and press your face into it and take in greedy lungfuls of his smell.

Ellie’s laugh rings out around the room. You think of the future she was going to have and the one she will have now, and you’re glad that she’s in Jackson away from the dark holes that are the QZs.

You gaze up at Joel, at the cords rising in his neck like bread dough. Some depraved sprout shoots up inside you and longs to trace your nose against them and their engravings on his skin. You force yourself to look away, down at the glass of water in your hand.

You ache to move your feet forward and away from him, for the betterment of the both of you and the cage you keep around your chest, the key of which you want to press into Joel’s hands.

“You should come by more often.”

He talks to you the same way he talked to the sapling. You wonder if he would rope you up the same way if you broke your arm too, in the same way. It sows dreams inside of you and you rub them away a couple seconds later, thinking of Maria’s sudden invitation asking you over tonight.

“Thanks,” you murmur it. You’re not going to give him a rebuttal about being a bother so you won’t fall into the push and pull dance with him.

To your surprise, he straightens up, ducks his head until you look up at him. “M’serious, honey. Really,” you see his hand reach forward before it falls back to place. It flinches and fidgets before it returns to normal. Here all the hair on his skin is grey. “We’ll do this more.” The condition has dropped from his voice.

Despite your suspicions and reluctance, a bruised, battered thing weeps out inside of you, stops you from turning down his offer again, after he’s pressed it with you. It sits smooth and heavy in the palm of your hand, you run your thumb over it, pretend to mull it over.

“Well, how about it? Me ‘n Ellie do board games a night each week, you should come,” There’s a swing to his voice, a soft gravel in it. If you could bask in it you’d never leave.

He chuckles at your lack of response, “Now don’t you be tellin’ me you don’t like to play at cards.”

Finally, you collect yourself enough to shake your head, laugh a little though it’s hard when your lungs are turning themselves inside out at the thought that Joel Miller has invited you to spend more time with him, that he’s deemed you worthy of it.

Tonight, you play Dutch Blitz. They’re not real Dutch Blitz cards, but with the mixing of yours and his decks, the picture cards tossed aside, there’s enough to play with.

Joel brings you hot water with some whiskey slipped in, his hand resting deliberately on top of yours when he gives it to you. He sits opposite you, Ellie at the head, his owl mug beside him, close enough that you long to trace with your fingers, follow the curves and valleys of it, and wonder if you can get it to talk to you the same way Joel talks to trees, close enough that you can see the splattering of spots ceramics often have.

When he takes a drink, you have to look away from him and the wave-like motion of his throat for fear of doing something stupid and falling in love.

He’s terrible at the game.

After the first couple of rounds, he’d said it was because he didn’t have his glasses and went into the living room to rummage around for them. You could hear his voice sometimes, filtering in back to his kitchen. Not there, some rustling, a drawer being closed, no, I’m sure I ain’t left’em here. His voice is grumbly with aggravation and it makes you and Ellie giggle.

It had been a long time since you’d laughed like that. Light and childish. The boulder of your personhood lifted off.

When he does find them, he places them on the edge of his nose, but they don’t help him at all. With the sudden addition of a third player, the flick and slam of cards on the table, quickly adding up to a cap, it’s hard for him to focus. Ellie says that though he never does win, he doesn’t lose so abysmally either when she plays him one-on-one.

He murmurs to himself when he’s playing, like the gentle hum of a honeybee and it distracts you as well, giving Ellie yet another set of wins under her belt.

“Face it, Joel,” she’s grinning now, shuffling up her hand of cards. “You’re fucking horrible at this.”

He huffs, “You’re not giving me a fair fightin’ chance, that’s what.” The slope of his neck is just the right angle. He gathers his cards up, does an expert riffle shuffle. “And what’s more I ain’t playin’ no more. Go grab somethin’ else.”

You’re surprised at how easily Ellie gives into him now, teasing only slightly before she goes away, back to the closet where Joel stores the board games he’s managed to piece together over the years. Monopoly, The Game of Life, Scrabble. There are Jenga blocks as well, ones he’s made himself, and that he’s sanded away at patiently, night after night on his porch.

It’s your favourite game to play with him, Jenga. It’s tense, but quiet and calm. It gives you time to study his face intently, shade in the scar on his nose and the subtle way he favours the right edge of his mouth to his left when he’s talking. You like it even more because it means you can touch things his hands have touched, the ones he’s worked at patiently, each one a labour of love.

Even kids come over to his house now, particularly during the summer, and play in his backyard with his Jenga blocks, Joel’s place an extension of the worlds they play in, the juniper trees at the edge perfect for games of hide-and-seek and tag.

“She’s right,” he sighs, takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “I am horrible at this.”

With his glasses in his hand he gestures to the cards. The action pulls at your liver, you may as well have drunk a whole bottle of whiskey.

“Nonsense,” there’s a strange tendril of confidence wrapping around your throat, drawing out words before you knew what they were. “It’s a hard game. Fast-paced.”

He laughs to himself, softly. It sounds like molasses, deep and rich and velvety. “That’s just a fancy way of calling me old, darlin’.”

“I don’t mind,” the words surprise you, the emotion and conviction behind them and you drop them as soon as you can.

“You don’t mind what?”

Looking down at your hands, “That you’re old.” You don’t like how you’re bringing attention to it and meekly, you string behind it, “If it matters any.”

Silence hangs around you, presses hard against your chest and breaks a rib.

“Thanks, sweetheart. It matters much…more’n you could know.”

A being lies behind his words, unknown and ominous. You don’t want to touch it, break the beehive and let the honey pour onto the grass, the bees angry and furious ready to sting.

You offer instead to wash the dishes to be able to touch his special mug, finally trace the curve of the owl’s body, embroidered into baked clay. You wonder where Joel found this mug. If it came with the house, how it morphed into his favourite one, if it was a certain thing, from first sight, or if it was a slow and steady climb.

Ellie comes back a few moments later, the Jenga blocks in her hands. You feel his eyes against your back and you hold your hands under the hot water until they’re irritated and sensitive.

Joel shows up at your door unannounced. In his hands is a bowl of strawberries, his fingers stained red from picking up, that soft gentle smile on his face.

“Howdy,” He invites himself in, says the words for you and hands over the bowl. “For you.”

You think about jam and honey, imagine the feel of granulated sugar clicking under your teeth.

It’s the late afternoon, a lazy sun stretching into your open window, highlighting dust motes in the air in a stream of light. You place the strawberries on the table, Joel takes one and pops it in his mouth, the hinge of his jaw moving up and down as he chews.

Laughing, he tells you quietly, “They’re supposed to be for you, I had a stomachful pickin’em.”

Something twists and knots inside of you at the thought of Joel in the gardens, bending down beside the strawberry plants, choosing fruit for you and bringing it to your door. You wonder if he talked to them the way he seems to do anything, whether or not it can respond to him.

“They’re good,” he pushes them towards you. “Have some.”

The berries are a ruby red, vibrant with survival. They press against you as you roll their tiny bodies between your fingers, your nail catching on the seeds pressed into the skins. Biting down into one, you find it intimate to know that you and Joel are tasting the same flavour, tart and sweet, that he has a belly filled with this, that he’d filled his belly behind the soft of his waistline because he was picking you a gift.

It’s hard to tear your eyes from him, from where he’s looking at you. The sun kisses his shoulder, curls up and around his ear. The strange need you have for him grows and reaches its peak, overwhelming you. You wonder what the soft behind his ear will feel like if you took his with your teeth and soothed the bite over with your tongue, what his hair will smell like.

You want to ask him, demand him, to kiss you. To press you against the strawberries and not let you go until you’re covered in red juice.

“Thank you for these,” you say instead, get up to put on some hot water.

“‘Course, honey.”

You think that Joel may consider you a friend. His friend.

You like the possession that lies inside the words. The heady things they imply, how they hold your heart in a clenched fist and promise to never let go.

The other night, he’d invited you over for dinner. Just you. Had been clear about it as well. Ellie’s at Dina’s, Tommy and Maria have date night together. Like he could read your mind and knew the riptides you were apt to fall into if you weren’t careful.

He’d talked to you, low and soft like he always does. Whiskey had been poured into your coffee and the sunset had lit up the sky in much the same manner as his voice, muted and tender, the air tinted golden like saffron.

You think that that was the night you realised you couldn’t run from it anymore, had fallen, arms extended but helpless in catching you, towards him and how the sole of his left shoe is smoother than his right.

The strawberries spark conversation in him about the upcoming harvest, and he analyses the weather with severity, concerned about the apples and squashes if it were to stay the way it was. You pour two cups of hot water, wishing you could give him something he likes more than that, whiskey or wine, and think of what you could trade to get a bottle for your kitchen.

“...don’t know how we’ll make it through the winter at this rate.”

Steam curls up from your cup, the heat of the summer day already fading with the sunlight.

“We’ll make it, one way or the other,” you say. His worries are endearing, parts and pieces of him that you think he’ll never learn to let go of, not even if there was fresh fruit on the table, hot water in the pipes.

Joel from before.

He fascinates you, in every form you think of him.

With your words, you see something in his eyes, something young and untamed. You think he’s going to press it with you, show you why the amount of rain and sun the settlement’s been getting will be its exact downfall. But it dies down, calms back into the soft burnt toffee you know them to be, and the ever-present smiling not-smile returns to his face.

Finally, he nods his head towards the strawberries and winks at you. You start eating them again, trying to paint up images of him in the gardens, of the strawberries looking even smaller beside his hands. His voice, mellowed and soft, Yeah, yeah, you’re good, that’s alright now, okay?

Joel’s hand brushes against yours as you reach in for another one, lighting a match against your skin, flames bursting up and down your body. He doesn’t seem to give it much mind, his unshakable calm draped against him like always.

With a chuckle, he looks down at the one in his hand, “My mama used to make these inta jams.” He eats it, eyes fluttering shut at the taste. Your body pulls at itself and you take one for yourself as well, flavour oozing out into your mouth, tasting like love because you’re sharing it with him.

“Loved’em with a fresh biscuit,” pausing, he breaks out of his memories to look at you. “You ever had jam ‘n biscuits?”

“Sure, sometimes.”

He tilts his head, “Homemade ones?” You shake your head and he waves you off in response, “Oh, then you hadn’t had jam ‘n biscuits. Lemme tell ya, my mama made’em mean. Nothin’ like a hot jar of strawberry jam.”

Eyes going a little misty he keeps on, “Now, Tommy?” he laughs soft and low, mainly to himself, shakes his head some more. “Tommy he’d scarf’em down the moment they were outta the oven, boy’s got no patience. Couldn’t even wait to take out the jam and then he’d-” the words had been pouring out of his mouth like honey, soothing to your ears but he cuts them off abruptly, “-Ah, would you look at that. I’m borin’ yer head off.”

It sounds like he is getting ready to leave, his eyes flicking around, on the table, back to you, to the strawberries. You rush forward without thinking about it to get him to stay, “No, no. I-I like talking with you…s’nice.” You finish with a helpless little shrug.

You don’t know where this sudden confidence has come from and you’re scared you’ve gripped too tight on the bar of soap and Joel will slip out of your grasp and into the sink, that you have to scramble to take it back. To your surprise, you haven’t.

The discomfort starts to fade away from Joel’s face and you fear what’s going to be put in its place and how similar it might be to what you hold in the farthest corner of your heart, closely guarded away from him. He melts down back into his seat, eats a strawberry.

If you look closely, the greyer hairs in his moustache are stained red.

“Well, there ya have it,” he chuckles, deep and warm. “The story of my mama’s biscuits.”

“Lovely.”

It stands in front of you, a bunny rabbit of a story, her nose twitching, ears flicking back and forth and incredibly small. You remember the first baby rabbit you ever saw, when you were sixteen over thirty years ago. You hadn’t thought something could be so tiny and also be able to move. It had scampered away the moment it caught sight of you, the bushes bristling into silence in its wake, but behind it one of your lungs and one of your kidneys followed dutifully, leaving you alive but just barely.

Right now, you cup Joel’s story in your palm, tuck it away in some safe pocket and delight each time you brush against it, a knotted ball of heat and innocence.

Gaze still fixed on the button-like eyes in front of you, you get surprised when he moves to sit in the chair at your side. His shoulders are broad and mighty still, and you have to look just slightly up to be able to see him fully.

You see him struggle with his words. Maybe he always does, and you’ve never been this close enough to see it, thoughts breaking on the shore of his mouth, the twitch around his nose, the ever changing colour of his eyes not even quivering still for a moment.

“You’re-” he clears his throat, it rumbles gently like an earthquake from your feet to your head, shaking your heart in the middle, reminding you of the ache inside it. “You’ve been lonely here…in Jackson.”

There’s not much to say, and you shrug, “I’m alive.”

“Not what I said.”

It stings through you, sharp with truth and a keen observation. You’d thought you’d manage to hide it well, that people had bigger problems than to worry about you, and the emotions running in you that you’ve forgotten what they are and how they’re supposed to feel like. You don’t know what to say, looking down at your hands, starting digging into your cuticles for something to do with them.

He hums softly, and on instinct you turn your gaze to him, watching his front profile bent forward. “These years…they’ve been hard,” he almost hears your thoughts. “On us all.”

You think of your husband. The one who’d married you young, though you’d felt like you were anything but at the time, and cradled your heart gently and coaxed you out of moods as if it was the only thing he was made for and wanted to do. He doesn’t come to your mind often anymore, having lost him several years before the world blew up. Together, you’d lived a quiet life. Defined by soothing, soft sunlight and lazy afternoons.

Truly, you’ve felt lonely your whole life. It didn’t really start twenty years ago, or two years ago when you arrived in Jackson. Had been a quiet and almost ignored child. There’s not much you remember from your childhood, but the knoll of a memory rings true every time. Standing in line for a whole afternoon, a worksheet grasped in your sweaty palms, feeling that soon, soon, you’d be rewarded for listening, for being quiet.

How interminable that afternoon had seemed to you, long and drawn out, testing your patience at each turn, and how you’d risen up to each defiantly, child-like sense of justice still strong and unfailable.

You learnt your lesson too late, when your soul and essence had already hardened into unchangeable patterns. So, you got used to getting hurt, tears springing at your eyes and burning through your lungs.

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t always like this.” The corners of Joel’s eyes crinkle, fold up into themselves like fabric. He chuckles softly and you feel your face press into a smile. “I was real angry…and mean. People wouldn’t come within a square mile of me if they could help it.”

His eyes glisten when he hears you laugh, and he holds up his hands, “I ain’t lyin’, I swear. Ask anyone you want, I was the town grump, yellin’ at kids to get off my lawn.” The words make you laugh even more, hiding it behind your hand and maybe the energy sparks in the air, because Joel starts to laugh too. A deep, gentle, belly laugh that seems to have come from another world. Of soft grey hair and tender eyes. It’s hard to imagine Joel as mean, a grump.

The perpetuity of time weighs down on you heavily. How separated you feel from yourself at sixteen, twenty, thirty. The decades rolling past you like boulders. It scares you that you and Joel remember a world, a life, that doesn’t exist anymore and soon the two of you will be gone, the memories falling off into the air like they’ve done for generation upon generation.

You wonder how so little time, in the grand scheme of things, can feel so long and tiresome. How you’re not even fifty yet and still, the thought of having to fall asleep and wake up the next day to do it all again exhausts you to the point of tears. The thought of having to do this for one more day even seems impossible, leave alone for years.

When you were younger, and you’d first started feeling like this, you’d thought it would pass when you got married, when you got older. When the world fell apart you’d thought you would snap out of it, yet it never happened. The only time you’d felt happy waking up was from nightmares, panting and struggling to orient yourself.

It had been better since you arrived at Jackson, found some semblance of routine and stability that you’d craved since you were a child.

Joel sighs, drawing you out of your thoughts, and focusing you in again to see him rub at his beard, the movement tugging at the insides of you. “Don’t know why I’m telling you this really,” he lets out a quiet breath, and it washes over you, ocean-like. “I-I…” He swallows thickly, and you’re alarmed to see him gather himself as if to move to go. “Been botherin’ you really-”

You cut him off by saying his name. It tolls inside you, flashes of hospitals and the dark green carpet of the funeral home coming to the forefront of your mind.

You think about your husband's eyes, the soft slope of them, so similar and yet so different to Joel’s. You wonder if Joel would have liked him, if in another world the two of them would drink beer together and play poker, while you complained about them to friends you’ve never truly, properly had.

The image is domestic, tugs at you and you know soon you’re going to cry if you’re not careful. You start talking, how the two of you had met, the sudden and then slow fall.

The ache in you grows and grows, till it’s fit to burst. Talking about him to Joel feels like emptying out an abscess, makes you feel both guilty and relieved.

He talks in turn. Of a daughter. The pulsing, too-hot blood covering his forearms and screaming until he’d lost his voice and spat red for a week later. Hot, bright flashes of anger that never truly went away.

You wonder if that’s what had drawn you to Joel in the first place, that gaping, weeping hole inside of him that reflected so tenderly back into your stomach. He laughs a couple of times, telling you about Ellie. Then he cries and despite everything, you envy him for how he does it so rightfully, well-timed.

You can’t remember a time you’d talked so much. The sun sets over his back, beside his ear.

There’s a fatigue in your bone marrow, a deep, strong ache that ripples through your back and muscles. Joel looks a different person to you know, the ghost of a girl standing behind him, her hand placed on his forearm, gentle features in her face ringing true to her father’s and that of a woman you don’t know. You’re seized with the urge to turn back time, to see if you would have found Joel in the old world just like you have this one. If you would have liked his daughter, found companionship in her the way you do with all women.

Joel smiles at you, eyes glistening, murmuring something about the time. The day comes back to you at once, and you feel you’ve taken a breath after hours of holding it in. You wonder at the way Joel’s drawn all this out of you, patient and with no rush at all. How he’d deemed you worthy of time and attention.

You walk with him to your front door, feeling as if it was years since he’d shown up at it, bowl in hand.

“Hey, honey?” The back of Joel’s shirt is wrinkled from the way he was sitting at your table. He turns back to you, the sun fully set now.

You have a strange need to offer to walk him home. Then you hope he’d offer to walk you home and you’d do the same and then you could spend the rest of your life walking with him home.

“Yeah?”

The pull he has terrifies you. There’s a subconscious ache in your muscles to be closer to him, to right what seems to have been wronged.

He does it for you, takes a step away from the door and barely a few breaths of space between you. From here, you can see the sunspots in his beard, flecked onto tanned and weathered skin and you think about a time when Joel was so young he didn’t have a beard.

“There’s a-uh…ah, ” he goes gravelly and clears his throat, running a hand up and down his beard comfortingly. Something inside him renews and the insecurity falls away, it’s fascinating and addicting to watch. You’re sure there isn’t a more interesting person on the Earth. “You wanna come with me? To the dance next week?”

You swallow and it does nothing to help the feeling inside you that you’re being torn into two. “Oh, Joel I…” you fumble for an excuse out of all the well-used and well-rehearsed ones you have. “I-uh…I’m not much of a dancer.”

“Hell,” he laughs, and his eyes go to the size of slivered almonds. “Neither am I. But they play some fancy records. I go for the music.”

“What kind?”

You’re not going to go, you’re certain of this, already feeling like you’ve imposed far too much on him, but this is another part of Joel, the music he listens to each week at the community dance. There’s no harm in taking it for yourself.

“Real old stuff,” his eyes twinkle. “You think me old? Wait ‘til ya hear it, it’s stuff my grandparents listened to growin’ up.” A beat, something drops in his tone, “M’serious.” He sounds nervous even, “I want you to go with me.”

You don’t know how to tell Joel this is the first time someone’s asked you out in a long, long, while. If ever. Your husband was the only man who ever loved you and he’d always been there. Had proposed to you in the low light of his kitchen, matter-of-fact sort of, I suppose we should get married.

You don’t know how much of your story Joel’s gratuitously, much to the contradiction of your character, filled in. You want to have led the life he’s envisioned for you, so kindly and tenderly, eating strawberries at your kitchen table, rather than the cold, lonely one you’ve led instead.

Through the sudden twisting and turning inside you, a cold pang stops it at your foolishness to assume that this is what you’d thought it was. That you’d taken the opaque words and read through them, leading yourself astray and susceptible to getting hurt.

“Darlin’? Makes me real nervous when you take so long to answer questions like this,” he coos softly, you think again of the way he talks to everything, as if he can see through it to the marrow and essence, trace it with his finger. You see his hand twitch and this time he does touch you, holding onto your forearm, a soft fire burning on your skin. “What’s wrong, hm?”

“I don’t know how to dance, Joel,” you say finally. You feel and see yourself leaning close to his touch, the warmth of his body spilling into your own, but you’re helpless to stop it. You want to feel his chest on your bare back, the prickle of his beard against your skin, roughened palms against your stomach. So much roughness pressing on you with love.

He lets out a tender breath, as if to say, that’s all? “Well, I’ll teach ya if ya want. And if not, we’ll have a drink and listen to some Guy Lombardo, alright?”

You know you should protest again, keep pushing it with him until he drops the act, keeps this where it ought to remain. But your yearning for him is overwhelming and tiring to fight against, “Alright.”

“Alright?” His thumb brushes back and forth against your skin. You look up at him and you fear that now there’s no hiding from him anymore, behind quiet and excuses. You feel his eyes hit the back of your lungs. “Alright, honey,” he smiles at you, his skin folding up like intricate origami, stealing your breath away at seeing it up so close.

“I’ll see you soon, then,” he murmurs. Then he’s leaning down towards you to kiss your cheek. A rough brush of slightly chapped lips before he’s straightened up and the door clicking shut behind him, a trail of blood following him from where your chest is, gaping empty, your heart trudging along unknowingly behind him and his broad shoulders like slug.

For two years you fought against it, pushing it aside as it continued to grow like an untamed weed, growing a strong, unbreakable net of roots only for you to lose all of it in close to five minutes, to show you how fragile and fallible you were when it came to Joel Miller.

The community centre in Jackson is one of the only buildings left nearly intact. The floors were still original wood, and creaked and groaned with each step. With the fall of summer, the harvest close to over, the nights were coming earlier, quicker, and colder. As you walk towards the building, the lights glow from the windows flickering some strange sense of nostalgia in you, twinging at a corner you’d thought was long gone inside your heart.

Joel is standing at the entryway, hair brushed back in a way that, in the fickle light, almost makes him unrecognizable. You’ve never seen him like this, not just his hair, but his appearance. Your heart stutters when it sees itself reflected, nervous and trembling in Joel’s face. The thought of him making himself all pretty-like for you in the glow of his bathroom makes you feel faint, makes you feel young in a way you don’t ever remember feeling. That maybe, the thought of you has him nervous and stumbling and anxious, how you so often feel around him.

“Hey, honey.”

You stammer a little smile, say you hope you hadn’t kept him too long. A record scratch comes from inside and the soft drone of trumpets and crooning filters out to the two of you like fairy dust.

Putting his hand on the small of your back, Joel leads you inside.

True to his word, he doesn’t do any dancing. You’re not sure if you can handle such close proximity to him, feeling the gentle wash of his breath, to breathe him in so deeply the push outwards strains your lungs without the promise of being able to do it again whenever you want to.

He gets you two a drink and sways with you, arm around your shoulders, talking in soothing tones that rival the one he uses with his niece. When he pretends to not notice you looking, you gaze at him, his profile glowing in the lights of the hall, the wrinkles in his face like those of a tree trunk.

You’d been nervous to be seen out like this with Joel, worried to hear rumours fly and nervous that your reaction to them would give away inner corners of your heart that you don’t even dare graze in the safety of the early morning darkness, alone, in your own bed and house. Even more, you didn’t want him hearing them, the malicious tongues of Jackson picking you apart any more than they already had had.

Yet to your surprise, people only smile at you, ask you to join them at the Tipsy Bison, Joel agreeing readily for you as you struggle to find the words.

You and Joel, it seems, are no great news.

You wonder how much time has been wasted just because of your broken mind, thoughts from your childhood running through it constantly chiming truth-like when they were only supposed to light laughing matters now.

The weight of Joel’s hand grows suddenly, and it drops onto your chest. The subtle, comforting smell of wood turns stifling, dust floating up and stinging your eyes. With a quiet word, you slip out from under Joel’s arm as he’s talking to Tommy, head back outside and start taking greedy gulps of air.

The normalcy of it, the quiet indifference and accepting looks around you had taken you aghast. At how quickly you’d lost the rules you’d set in place for when you were around Joel. At how quickly you’d managed to fool yourself into thinking that you could do this, be normal and sound, at how you’d tricked Joel into thinking the same and now it felt that everything was suspended in the balance.

The whole unworthiness of it. How you’d managed to outsmart the world time and time again into staying alive for whole decades after you’d thought you would, and how you couldn’t do the same for your husband, a man so worthy of life compared to you. How he’d worked at you patiently, tenderly. Made you believe, for brief, fleeting moments that maybe you were wrong, that you can think wrong thoughts and yet there was nothing wrong with that, and that nobody had been tricked and everyone was deserving.

And how quickly that had all been torn away from you in a torturous six months.

Some days, you feel you’ve gotten better, the tug of black tar lighter, only to drown even worse the next.

He’d been the only person ever to convince you otherwise. And he’d been wrong.

Until now.

The back porch creaks softly under Joel’s shoes, and by now you’ve given up wondering why you can recognize the way the world around him reacts to his presence. You turn to face him, to see the angel-like glow around his silhouette for the half-instant it’s there.

You look down quickly at your feet, hoping it hides the sudden heat rising to your face and calms it down.

In so many ways, you feel older than you are, ready to lay down in the ground and surrender to the dirt and grass, and in others you still feel like a child, helpless and naive. Joel shouldn’t be finding you out here, staring into the night for answers you know won’t be there.

“There ya are,” you’ve never heard his voice this way before, the many nuances and inflections that you’ve studied like a religion.

Your shame is so great you can’t even bring yourself to apologize, an annoying habit your mother always lashed out at you for, your apparent insolence and indifference.

There’s the same shuffling step of his, the left favoured over the right. There’s a loud round of laughter from inside and you flinch at it as Joel comes to stand beside you.

“Needed some air?”

If you could, you would crawl into his chest, burrow down there so he’d lull you to sleep with the rumble of his voice. Though he’s only inches from you, he feels much farther away.

You nod quietly and you wonder how you can tell Joel that the outbreak hadn’t made you like this, that Jackson had brought it out of you again after years of a toughened, fraud outside you’d held to yourself protectively like a blanket. That there wasn’t anything more to peel away, and you couldn’t be fixed with rope or soft words like the plants he loves and the wood he whittles away into gifts.

“Joel…” you lick your lips, bite down on the inside of your cheek until you bleed. His name feels right, shaped out of your voice, and you marvel at how well-trained your mind is, after almost fifty years of feeding you lies and your fighting right back against it, to find the cracks in your armour and press and press until it gives out. “I’m sorry.”

Words so familiar to you they should be written on your gravestone.

He tsks, waving at the air dismissively, “Now, stop with all that.” It’s the harshest he’s ever spoken to you yet it’s still quiet and kind. He comes to face you, the light inside falling on his face and into the deep groves of it.

Despite yourself, you gaze into his eyes, to peer at the earnestness in them, dreadfully familiar.

“I’m sorry.” A frozen clock, stuck on the same time, the seconds hand beating and beating and going nowhere, as the world around it covers itself in dust and death.

Pulvis es et in pulverem reverteris.

He smiles, eyes still feather-soft and honey-sweet. A strand of hair comes loose, falling into his face and you see the Joel you’ve come to love, despite any and all precautions.

You say his name quietly, “He was the only one who…” It’s hard to describe what your husband had done for you, even if you hadn’t felt so stunted with words since you started learning them. His earnest and pure love that had flowed through him for you and the whole world while he was alive, how you’d thwarted it away, the black, rotten core inside of you screaming out, and how, wave after wave, he’d returned to you.

“And you think there’s only one person for you in this world?” There’s nothing patronizing in his voice, which makes it all the worse for you. You wish it had been that simple, that you had seen yourself worthy of only your husband’s love, had seen something in his relentless pursuit of giving it over to you with no hope of return. How it had been only stronger on the days it had been hard to eat, and sleep, and wake up.

Your voice breaks, “I wasn’t even supposed to get the one.”

“Oh, honey,” he coos. The heel of his palm is rough as it brushes against your jaw. Coaxing, he tilts your head up to face his. The second time only you’ve been so close to him and it seems your body still hasn’t gotten used to it.

The darkness of the night is enshrouding, humidity pressing against your lungs. Joel’s jacket is on top of your shoulders, his presence drowning out the darkness, leaving sunlight and trees instead. You feel his roots claw down into your chest, latch onto your liver and heart.

“You know…” he swallows and you’re too close to the motion because you’re dangerously close to your knees giving out underneath you. “I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

It’s not judgmental, Joel could never be that. But you shrink inside nonetheless, embarrassed and feeling smaller than ever.

Ghosts swarm around the two of you, stirring the air and making a soft breeze and goosebumps rise against your skin.

You go to look away but he wills it not and what is the turning of the Earth if not for the wants of Joel Miller?

“Real flattered, if I could say so. Didn’t think-” he clears his throat and this time he looks away, shy and young, a bird hiding its beak in its wing. “Didn’t think you’d fancy an old man like me.”

The truth behind his words amazes you, how it’s something he seems to have considered time and time again relentlessly, from all angles, and still decided it to be his reality.

“How-how…could I not?”

There’s the deep, soothing rumble of his laugh again. It rings clear with tradition and home, and baked clay and spotted ceramic owls. “You’re a bit hard to read sometimes, honey.”

Inside of you, your veins seize up, heart quivering at his words. He smiles down at you in that gentle, Joel way of his, quieting your thoughts. The soft drone of music drifts out from the open window, the slow murmur of a content crowd of happy people.

His arm wraps around your waist, testing, eyes flitting back and forth on you. With each pass of his gaze, you feel the soft patter-like feet of butterflies resting against your cheeks, wings flapping slowly, measured as if to show your heart how to beat again, properly.

Daringly, you inch closer to him. His nose comes down to meet yours.

“Hey, darlin’...honey?”

He’s whispering and he’s never whispered with you before.

His breath is warm against your face, if you could, you would tuck your head under his shirt and never come up again.

“Can I kiss ya? Would ya let me?”

It’s hard to think that this is where you’ve ended up with Joel, from the first time you saw him those handful of years ago, where he’d been standing off to the side talking with someone, standing over a pile of wood, until now. His weight leaned on one leg, hip popped out making you lose your breath at the sight of it.

Like a blossoming tea he’s unfurled for you. Had stretched and arched in hot water, catching your eye for it never to be let go of again.

He traces your hairline with his finger, murmurs your name. “Can I?” His eyes are only on your mouth now, sometimes coming up to blink and meet yours.

Joel seems close to as nervous as you, seems as if he sees you to be precious the same way you do him. It’s equally surprising and comforting, gives you the final push forward, your foot slipping against a grainy edge and plummeting you towards the bottom, wind beating against your ears.

“Yeah.” You sound strong, certain. The sturdy trunk of an oak tree. Even more daring, you press your palm against his tummy, a few fingers under the edge of his ribs, enjoying the give of his flesh as you lean up into him even more.

His voice rumbles against your lips, the whispering lost to the wind now, “Ain’t you the sweetest thing.”

Thanks so much for reading, hopefully I haven't lost my edge after a year off. If you liked this please consider leaving me some feedback, I obsess over it constantly!

309 notes · View notes

abyssalwavezz · 16 days ago

Note

zayne smut and i need it neowwwwwww do whatever you want with the plot

Impulse Control

Author's note: I know who you are anon, and this one is for you <3 that's all I've got to say LOL also if you like kpop, check out my kpop page @ta3mint bc I am trying to revive it after such a long break lol also fun fact...I think this is one of if not the longest fic I have ever written. So yeah...send in your LADS requests. It's good to be back, ya filthy animals.

Contains: Zayne x MC/YN, consent king Zayne, jealous/down bad Zayne, explicit sexual scenes with unprotected P in V (use protection irl pls), fingering (fem receiving), MC briefly on top, relatively vanilla missionary (but it’s a classic okay?) and somewhat vague hints at Zayne and MC lore if you squint

Warnings: Minors for the love of God, pls do not interact!! Sexually explicit content, adult themes, cursing, etc. and as always...no proofreading <3

Word Count: 7,872

It was no surprise that Akso Hospital was winning an award for their exemplary service to Linkon City. What was a bit of a surprise though, was Zayne taking the initiative to ask you to come to the banquet with him. He could be so hard to read sometimes, and though of course he could be thoughtful, this seemed to be a direct request, even for him.

You couldn't help but reread the texts from earlier, your heart and your mind racing in tandem.

Zayne☃️: How has your day been so far? Have you been staying hydrated? You often forget to drink enough water when you are busy.

Me: Dr. Zayne, do you text all your patients and remind them of their hydration levels?

Zayne☃️: Only the most forgetful ones.

Me: You mean there's more than one? And here I thought I was special :(

Zayne☃️: Don't fret. You are, in fact, the only patient who I perform this service for.

Me: Well in that case...I should probably go drink some water in between training sessions.

Zayne☃️: Before you go, I wanted to ask you something.

Me: Oh? I am listening (and hydrating as we speak)

Zayne☃️: The hospital is receiving a service award tonight. There will be a banquet. I was hoping you might want to come with me. After all, you have served Linkon as much as I or any of the other medical staff has. It is only fair that you are my plus one. If you want to be, of course.

Me: I would love to, Dr. Zayne. One question though...

Zayne☃️: Yes?

Me : Will there be dessert? 🧁

You had hoped the little joke about dessert would take your mind off of...everything. But it hadn't worked. You were still sitting in your desk chair, knees pulled tightly against your chest.

What did this invitation mean? Did Zayne...no. No way. There was no way he was inviting you because he saw you as something other than a friend and a patient. He said it himself, that it was only fair to invite you due to your service as a hunter.

How about you, though? What did you see Zayne as? You definitely would like to be more than friends. You couldn't help but fall for him after seeing him so often nowadays. He was everything you could have ever dreamed of in a man. But did he know about your feelings? Did he notice the amount of time you spent watching him work or study instead of focusing on your own work or training material in front of you? Did he notice you watching him even more closely during your workout sessions?

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

Anyway. It was time to get ready now, and the part you dreaded most was here... Choosing what to wear.

You didn't really have many formal outfits to choose from, and you felt like the ones you did have were worn too many times. Right about now, you were wishing that Zayne had asked you earlier than the day of so you could've had more time to prepare. But honestly, would it have made a difference? Procrastinating was one of your favorite sports.

Eventually, you settled on your favorite dress.

Putting it on turned into somewhat of a chore, though. It didn't fit quite the same way as you remembered... but it had been a while since you last wore it.

Thankfully, it went on without any damage to the dress, but you couldn't help but pull at the fabric at the bottom of the dress. It was also a bit shorter than you remembered, it seemed.

And was this slit in the side always there?

Never mind that, it would have to do. There was no more time, and you still had to do your hair and makeup, as well as put on accessories to go with the dress. To be honest, you were a bit out of your comfort zone at the moment.

"Tonight better go well," you muttered to yourself.

The sudden noise from your phone caused you to stop what you were doing with your hair.

Grabbing it with a gloved hand, you immediately saw the text from Zayne letting you know he was waiting outside to pick you up.

You placed the last bobby pin in your hair and gently pushed your earrings in, then grabbed your phone and clutch before heading out the door.

As you passed by the mirror on your wall, you checked your makeup one last time, too.

Was it too much? It was a formal event, so you assumed you were to look the part. Ultimately you decided you looked fine, and part of you wished that Zayne would like it, too.

Oh, who were you kidding. You really hoped that Zayne would like it.

The sounds of your heels meeting the hard floor echoed throughout your apartment building until you got into the elevator. Once you were inside, you sent Zayne a quick text letting him know you were on the way.

Ding!

The elevator alerted you to let you know that it had arrived on the first floor. Quickly, you stepped out and into the parking lot, not wanting to be the cause of potentially being late.

After a quick scan of the nearby parking spaces, you saw his car a short distance away. You made your way over, cursing yourself for choosing these particular heels that were already causing foot pain.

As he saw you approach, he stepped out of his car and walked around to the passenger side, placing his hand on the door handle. He was wearing a traditional suit, accompanied by his glasses that he seemed to save for special occasions or work.

"Wowww, Dr. Zayne. No lab coat today? And doesn't your car have a button to open the doors, even when you're inside?"

"Would it still count as chivalry if I were to only press a button?"

He gave a small smile and pulled the door handle, stepping aside to let you in the car.

You smiled back, gently sitting down so as not to disturb your hair and dress.

As you moved past him, Zayne took a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes briefly before forcing them back open.

"You okay, Zayne? Am I wearing too much perfume? Or even worse...do I stink?"

Zayne shook his head and smiled once more.

"No and no, of course not. I like what you are wearing."

You nodded, satisfied with his prompt answer which caused your cheeks to burn.

Zayne closed your door and walked back around to his. He sat down and buckled himself in, motioning for you to do the same.

"The banquet is in an event hall not far from here. There will be some speeches that may bore you, by the way. This is your last chance to back out."

It was your turn to shake your head.

"Not a chance. It took me so long to get ready, I have to see this through. Besides, I was glad you thought to invite me."

Zayne turned the steering wheel to back out of his parking space, carefully eyeing his backup camera.

"Well, I am glad you accepted my invitation."

Zayne was telling the truth about it not being far. You made it there in only a few minutes. Frustratingly though, it had started to drizzle.

"Aw man, my hair and makeup will be ruined. Then everyone will think you brought a drowned rat as your plus one."

Zayne chuckled, pressing the button to turn his car off.

"Nonsense. Chivalry is still alive and well in Linkon."

Once again, he came around to the passenger side of the car rather than pressing the button to let you out. Seemingly out of nowhere, he had produced a large umbrella that was big enough to cover both of you, and especially big enough to protect your hair and makeup.

"Zayne, you are really outdoing yourself already. How could I ever repay you?"

"Don't worry, you already are."

Zayne walked slowly with you, making sure to keep the umbrella placed perfectly over your heads. Thanks to him, you both made it to the doorway of the event hall dry and in one piece.

There were lots of people, which was to be expected. Nevertheless, you instinctively clung to Zayne's arm, wrapping a hand around it tightly.

He was caught off guard, but only for a moment, before placing his large hand over the top of the silky fabric of your glove.

"You hunt Wanderers for a living and you're scared of a little crowd?"

You glared at him playfully, the amusement obvious in his usually soft voice.

"Hush, you meanie."

If you thought there were a lot of people in the foyer, it was nothing compared to the amount of people in the actual hall.

Numerous circular tables littered the hall as far as the eye could see. Pretty much all of the seats were already full, causing you to wonder where the two of you could possibly sit down. In the center against the back wall was the stage, presumably where the speeches Zayne mentioned were going to take place. Flower displays were plentiful, several of the biggest ones taking up the front of the stage, and the smaller ones sitting in between tables. Tiny vases with smaller versions of the displays sat on top of the tables, surrounded by expensive looking crystal dinnerware. It was definitely not something you see every day.

"Where would you like to sit?" Zayne asked.

You scanned the nearest tables, squeezing Zayne's arm when you saw an empty one.

"Let's sit there," you said quietly, pointing with your index finger so he could see what you were talking about.

Zayne nodded once he saw your choice, leading the way through the people that were still standing around.

There were five seats at the table in total, and by the time you got there, one of them was already filled by a young man that hadn't been there before. Oh well, you couldn't have expected to sit at a table with only Zayne at an event like this. But a girl could dream.

After you and Zayne sat down, the young man turned his attention to you. Nothing in particular stood out about him, and you couldn't say you recognized him from anywhere.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you," he said in a voice that didn't quite match his plain-looking features.

"Hi! It's nice to meet you, too," you replied politely.

"And you as well," the man added as he looked towards Zayne.

Zayne nodded, but didn't say anything. It seemed his mind was elsewhere at the moment.

"I'm (Y/N), and this is Dr. Zayne from Akso Hospital."

The man gasped quietly and looked back over to Zayne.

"Ohhh, I've heard a lot about you. You're definitely a big part of the reason the hospital is receiving the award tonight, I'm sure!"

The man seemed genuine in his comment, as far as you could tell.

"I am only doing my job. I have no desire for awards or accolades. Besides, there are many competent doctors and nurses that work at Akso. That is the reason for our award." Zayne said harshly.

You were a bit taken aback by Zayne's choice of words, but you chalked it up to potential nerves about tonight. The man didn't seem too fazed, which relieved you.

"Oh, where are my manners? My name is Richard."

You nodded and smiled at him, just before a sharp noise echoed throughout the event hall. Your eyes searched the surrounding area, and you realized the banquet must be underway. There was a very important looking man near the edge of the stage, clinking a metal spoon against his wine glass.

"As you all know, we are here tonight to recognize the achievements and outstanding service of Akso Hospital...but we are also here to eat!"

This earned a few laughs from the crowd of people, and even one from you. You couldn't deny you were starting to get pretty hungry.

You looked at Zayne and noticed that he did not laugh, nor did he even smile. Instead, he seemed to be set in stone, staring straight ahead at the man speaking by the stage. It almost seemed as if he was looking through him, like his mind was still somewhere else entirely.

"It isn't like Zayne to be nervous...but what else could it be? Does he regret bringing me here? I probably look so silly, like a little girl all dressed up for her secret crush", you thought to yourself.

Ignoring the sudden pain in your chest, you turned your focus back to the man up front.

"...once again, I thank you all for coming. But for now, let us eat and we'll get to the rest of the award ceremony later!"

The hall gradually began to get louder as people began to talk amongst themselves again. This seemed like a good opportunity to get Zayne to talk and settle the nerves that were boiling under the surface of your skin.

"Zayne, aren't you starving? We didn't eat before we came!"

"Mmm," Zayne hummed quietly in agreement.

"Oh! I didn't realize you two came together. Are you...?

Richard didn't finish his implied question and your ears began to burn instantly.

"Oh, no no! Nothing like that," you quickly replied, waving your hands back and forth in front of you.

You didn't dare glance at Zayne, so you weren't sure of his reaction to the conversation. But thankfully you didn't have to worry for long, since Richard started talking again.

"I see! Well, (Y/N), what do you do for a living?"

Grateful for the change in topic, you jumped at the chance.

"Well, I'm a Hunter!"

"She's very good at what she does. I have seen her at work. We often assist each other," Zayne said suddenly from the side.

Both you and Richard glanced at each other before looking at Zayne, who was as stoic as ever, but this time looking directly at you.

Your ears, still not recovered from a few moments ago, grew uncomfortably hot.

"I think the line for food has gotten a bit shorter," Richard pointed out. "Should we go ahead and head over?"

"Yes, I-."

Zayne cut you off, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.

"Why don't you save us a spot, Richard? I need to ask (Y/N) something about a confidential matter at work. It cannot wait."

Richard stood, giving a small nod and a quick smile in your direction before walking towards the food serving line.

Once he was out of earshot, you hastily gathered yourself before facing Zayne.

"Is something wrong? You've been acting strangely since we sat down."

Zayne pushed up his glasses, keeping his eye on Richard's back as he stood at the end of the line on the other side of the hall.

"There is something odd about him. We should find somewhere else to sit for the night."

You scoffed, unsure of what he could be talking about.

"I'm not sure I understand, Zayne. He seems perfectly normal and nice to me."

He shook his head.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Well, of course I do, but..." you trailed off before continuing, "It just seems like something has gotten into you. Am I not allowed to make friends?"

"Of course you are. You can have as many friends as you like. Just not him. There is something wrong."

For some reason, Zayne's words frustrated you.

"I don't need permission, Zayne. Now if you'll excuse me, I am going to get some food because I am starving. If you'd care to join me, I'll be over there."

Without waiting for a response, you left the table and walked with determination over to Richard, where he was still waiting in line. You truly had no idea what had gotten into your usually very kind and understanding friend, Zayne. You had never seen him act this way, so far as you could remember. Even so, as you got farther away from him, your resolve faltered. Had you been too harsh? No. Zayne was being...weird. You wanted to get to the bottom of it before the night was up.

"Hey!" Richard smiled and waved you over.

You gladly stepped beside him where he had saved you a spot.

"Thanks for holding a place for me, Richard. I'm sorry it took so long for me to get over here."

"It's no problem! I know you and Dr. Zayne must have a lot of secret work you need to do for Linkon. Speaking of, is he coming? There's more than enough room for him!"

You sighed, shaking your head.

"I'm not sure. He seems a bit...stressed at the moment. I may just bring him something to eat to help out a little bit."

Richard nodded.

"That's very kind of you. Dr. Zayne is very lucky to have a friend like you."

"Yeah," you couldn't help but sigh as the staff behind the table handed you a serving of the first dish. "A friend."

As you progressed down the line, Richard told you more about himself. You returned the favor, sparing some of the more private details of your life. But it truly was nice talking with him. He was very easy to get along with, and that further fueled your confusion towards Zayne's behavior.

After the two of you finished getting your food, you made your way back over to the table. As you got closer, you realized Zayne was no longer in his chair.

"Where did Zayne go?"

Richard looked around, nearly spinning in a circle.

"I'm not sure. He must have gotten tied up in an important conversation somewhere."

Just then you felt a buzz in your clutch, your phone alerting you to a text.

You set your plate down and reached into your clutch, grabbing your phone easily thanks to the small size of the bag.

On your phone's screen was a brief text from Zayne, asking you to meet him outside.

"Is everything okay?" Richard asked.

You snapped your attention away from your phone and smiled nervously at Richard.

"Of course! I just need to use the restroom before we start eating. Will you finish telling me your story that you mentioned in line when I get back?"

Richard nodded enthusiastically.

"I would love to!"

"Great, I'll be right back, I promise."

The air outside had gotten significantly cooler after the sun finished setting. Thankfully, it wasn't raining anymore. But you didn't see Zayne anywhere. He wasn't in the foyer and not immediately outside of the building. Almost in a panic, you turned around to search the entire parking lot. And that's when you caught a glimpse of a nearby streetlight reflecting off of something other than a car a few feet away.

It was Zayne's glasses, and he was leaned up against the side of his car with his arms crossed, looking off to the side.

"Zayne?"

Your voice caught his attention, and he used his weight to push himself off his car and move closer to you.

"There you are. I need you to come with me, we have to go."

As you got closer to him, you noticed he had an unfamiliar look in his eyes. It was one you had never seen in them before, and it instinctively made you nervous.

"Zayne, what's going on? You've been so weird tonight and now you're kind of scaring me."

Zayne sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Forgive me, I..."

You remained silent, waiting for him to finish, the rapid beating of your heart pounding in your eardrums.

"I seem to be acting on my impulses tonight. Something I thought I had been teaching myself not to do."

His actions were still not understandable to you, and he instantly read the confusion on your face.

"It's...it's his fault," Zayne murmured. "It's this dress."

Suddenly, he bent down to your level and ran his finger up the sleek fabric of your dress resting against your thigh. It caused you to tense up and shiver, whether from his actions or the night air, you weren't quite sure.

What you were sure of though, was how badly you wanted him to touch you again.

"Forgive me," he repeated. "I can call you a taxi to take home. I shouldn't have done that."

"Zayne," you said abruptly, causing him to stop from getting his phone out.

"Yes?"

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me," you repeated, this time a little less confident.

Zayne didn't say anything else before closing the rest of the gap between you in one step. Both of his large hands found space on each side of your face, and they rested there for a moment before he looked at you in the eyes, his own moving back and forth to discern the expression on your face.

"(Y/N)..." he began hesitantly.

"What?"

"If tonight has shown me anything, it's that I have not been controlling my impulses as well as I have previously. If I do this...I fear that I won't be able to stop myself."

You tried to take a deep breath, but it got caught in your throat.

"Do you want to kiss me, Zayne?"

"Yes," he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his frenzied eyes. "I cannot tell you what it has been like, seeing you almost every day now and falling in love with you all over, again and again. I have waited as patiently as I could have."

Shakily, you reached a hand up and loosely gripped one of Zayne's hands still on your cheek.

"Again? You've fallen in love with me before?"

Zayne hummed quietly, almost imperceptibly shaking his head against yours.

"Never mind that. Just know that I need you...I always have."

"Zayne, I..."

Something about what he was saying felt eerily familiar, and it felt like an invisible force was pulling you somehow even more closer to him in that moment.

"Please," Zayne whispered. "Tell me what you want."

"I...I want..."

Zayne rubbed his nose against yours, inching closer and closer to your parted lips. His labored breaths mixed with your shallow ones, causing the cool night air to visibly swirl around you. Your heart continued to pound, so loud and hard you were sure Zayne could hear it.

"I need to hear you say it...one more time."

Lighter than a feather, his lips brushed against yours as he spoke to you. And finally, finally, you were able to get your words out.

"I want you to kiss me...and I don't want you to stop."

Zayne tightened his grip on your face, his hands slipping slightly due to the thin layer of sweat that was between your skin and his. And then he pressed his lips firmly against yours.

You would be lying if you said you hadn't thought about what it would be like to kiss Zayne before. You had always assumed it would be magical, meaningful, and passionate.

And it turns out, you were right.

His lips tasted slightly sweet as he moved them against yours in perfect harmony. The sounds of your breathing echoed around you, muffled slightly by the sheer lack of distance between his face and yours. Your hands moved to hold onto his shoulders, and his moved from your cheeks to your waist, leaving a feeling of bitter cold behind. Somehow, in the contrasting heat of it all, he turned you around so you were now pressed between him and his car.

As soon as he did this, the kisses became more sloppy, more intense. You could feel his energy shift and it nearly caused your knees to buckle as he moaned quietly into your mouth. It occurred to you that your nails might be digging into his shoulders, but he didn't seem to notice.

Suddenly unable to breathe, you were the first to pull away. Zayne froze, looking down at you with a scared look in his eyes now.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry, I should have restrained myself properly."

"Zayne...again. Please, I only needed to catch my breath. You aren't the only one who has been waiting for this, you know."

This time, you didn't even wait for him to initiate the kiss. You moved in first, catching him slightly off guard. But he recovered quickly, matching your intensity in a flash.

The tip of his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, causing you to shiver for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. You weren't sure if he did it on purpose or if just happened, but you decided to open your lips slightly, providing an opening for him to push into deeper than before.

Zayne quickly obliged, a significant portion of his tongue meeting yours. This time it was your turn to moan, though yours was a little less controlled, and a little more loud.

He audibly groaned, the gnashing of your lips, tongue, and teeth causing a drop of saliva to run down your chin. You were pressed up against his car so tightly that it cause your shoulder blades to burn where they met the hard exterior of it. Zayne had a vice grip on your hips, and his hands were so large that you were sure it would leave marks.

The slit in your dress that you were shocked by earlier became Zayne's next target. He used one finger to trail up your thigh and hook under the edge of the slit as he kissed you, the fabric being pulled taught against your tingling skin.

Once again, you pulled away, letting your head roll back so that it rested against the top of his car. Your chest heaved, stretching the dress where it rested against your breasts with every breath in.

Zayne nestled his head into the crook of your neck, leaving small, wet kisses there. His finger that had been hooked into the slit of your dress continued its way up your body until his hand came to rest against your ribcage.

"Zayne, we should...get back before people start noticing we're gone."

"Hmm," he hummed against your collarbone.

"I mean it. What about the speeches?"

"Easy..." he murmured before placing an open-mouthed kiss, this time against your jawline. "Forget them."

"Zayne! You can't be serious."

"I assure you, I'm very serious. As serious as a heart attack."

You weakly raised your head back up to meet his gaze. There was a deep hunger in his expression, one that you could tell had not been fully satisfied.

"I did warn you," Zayne murmured before kissing you on the lips again briefly. "I have waited so long for you, it will be nearly impossible for me to let you go now that I have you."

You couldn't help but wonder what exactly he had in mind. But your thoughts and your body seemed to be communicating together, the undeniable warmth from your core spreading outwards fast. You knew you wanted to taste him again, to feel him against you again.

"Take me home, Zayne."

The drive back to your apartment seemed longer than it did when you left earlier. Inside Zayne's car, the air was thick with tension and desire. Neither of you spoke, too hesitant to mess anything up.

Once you were at your door, you prayed Zayne didn't see your hands shake slightly when getting your keys out to unlock it.

As you made it inside, Zayne closed the door behind the two of you and then slowly crouched down in front of you.

"Zayne, what are you..."

"Shh. Let me help you."

He motioned for you to lift one foot up, and you did so. He then undid your heel's strings and slid it off your foot carefully, before repeating the same steps on the other foot.

This time though, he placed his hand against your calf and let it trail up your bare leg until he stood up all the way. He took a deep breath as he did so, causing you to shake in anticipation.

"(Y/N). I know what I said, but if at any point anything becomes too much for you...or you simply change your mind, I want you to tell me. I will never do anything you don't want to do. Does that make sense?"

You nodded, overwhelmed with all the feelings coursing through you at the moment.

Zayne seemed satisfied, taking off his suit jacket and hanging it by the door. You couldn't help but notice how nicely his white button-up shirt sat against his toned arms.

He chuckled.

"If you don't like this," he said softly, pulling at the fabric of his sleeve, "I can remove it, too."

Involuntarily, you shuddered, realizing what he meant. But you had a better idea.

"Can I?"

Though your question was short, he understood what it meant.

Without a word, he stopped closer to you, looking down at you with a glint in his eye.

"If that's what you'd like."

You didn't mean to necessarily, but you held your breath as you let your clutch fall to the floor and instead placed your hands at his collar. As carefully as you could, you undid the first button of his shirt. Zayne watched you intently, his breathing picking up again like it had earlier in the parking lot.

One of your knuckles accidentally brushed against his collarbone while you undid another button, and it was his turn to shiver, even at such a slight touch. Honestly, it made you feel good, knowing that he must be feeling the same things you are feeling.

You continued down the shirt, each button coming undone with an almost inaudible pop sound. The farther you made it down, the more of his chest you started to see. It was unsurprisingly perfect, chiseled in all the right places, so much better than you could have ever imagined.

By the time you made it to the last button, you needed to pull the fabric out from where it was tucked into the hem of his pants. It was here that you hesitated.

"Are you alright?" Zayne asked, sensing your mind reeling. He placed a hand over top of yours where it still held onto the last button of his shirt.

"Yes, I'm alright. I just...don't want to mess anything up."

"Don't worry. You are perfect. Whatever happens will be perfect. Let me help again, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, nearly silent.

Zayne gently removed your hand from the last button, and tugged his shirt out from his pants to remove it completely.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you took in the sight before you.

Then without thinking properly, you let your hands reach out for him, flattening against his bare chest. Your fingers traced the lines carved into his skin, and you realized you really shouldn't be surprised at this since you know he works out regularly.

“Would you let me take you somewhere more comfortable?” Zayne asked, nodding his head towards your bedroom.

“That definitely isn’t a bad idea.”

Zayne chuckled at you again before grabbing one of your hands to lead you away, making sure to carefully step over your forgotten bag and his white shirt on the floor.

He sat on the edge of your bed, waiting for you to enter into the room completely.

You were still mesmerized by him, by the situation. And then you realized that you had on remarkably more clothing than him. You decided to enlist his help one more time.

You turned in a circle, so that your back was now facing him. Though you could do it yourself, you thought this would be more fun.

“Help me again, Dr. Zayne”

From behind you, you could hear him stand up and make his way over to you. You moved your hair out of the way so that the zipper on the back of your dress was now visible.

“If that is what you wish.”

Even through the material of your dress, you could feel his cold fingers against your back as they slid the zipper down to your waist.

Once he made it to your waist, you took a step forward and chanced a look over your shoulder.

Zayne stood behind you, watching you with another unknown emotion behind his darkened green eyes.

You shrugged off the top of your dress, causing it to instantly gather around your waist. Your bare back was now directly in front of Zayne, as the dress didn’t require you to wear a bra. The air in your room made you tense up.

Braving any lingering fears, you pulled the dress past your hips so that it fell to the floor, and you stepped out of it. Now you stood only in your underwear.

A few seconds passed and you could then hear Zayne take another step forward. A few seconds more, and you hissed as Zayne’s cold hands made contact with your exposed hips.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, planting a kiss against your shoulder.

You no longer felt the metal of his glasses bump into your skin, so you assumed he must’ve tossed them aside.

“Let me show you what you do to me. What seeing you with someone else does to me. How it makes me feel…”

Before you could respond, one of Zayne’s hands snaked around the front of your waist and began teasing the waistband of your underwear. You instantly knew what he was planning to do.

“And more importantly, let me make you feel good.”

You couldn’t help but gasp sharply at how bold Zayne was being as he gently slid the tips of his fingers past the edge of your underwear. His other hand was laid flat against your stomach from behind you, and the pressure against you only intensified once his pointer finger made contact with the edge of your aching core.

Zayne placed his chin on your shoulder, looking down with an almost gleeful smirk on his lips while he watched the rest of his hand disappear past your last piece of clothing.

“Mmmm,” you hummed as the pad of his pointer finger circled around your center.

“Such a pretty sound,” Zayne stated as if it was a well known fact.

He took this time to softly dip the one finger inside of you, pumping it a few times before adding his middle finger. You could tell he was instantly covered in the wetness coming from deep within you, the slick feeling of his fingers inside already driving you wild.

A fire began burning inside your mind and body as he continued drawing his two fingers in and out of you, curving them slightly to find the spot that would inevitably cause you to unravel around him.

Your knees buckled and his grip around your waist with his other hand tightened.

“I’ve got you. I always will,” Zayne spoke against the thin skin of your neck, nuzzling deeper into the space between it and your shoulder.

The faster he went, the less you felt like you were physically there. The only feeling you had right now was the feeling of his touch, as if that feeling which wasn't even your own doing was the only thing that tied your existence to this room, to this place. You weren't even sure if you were standing properly anymore or if he was holding you up with his other arm. You didn't really care.

Never in your wildest dreams had you expected to end up in this situation. But now that you were, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else or with anyone else. You knew from this point on, he was the only one allowed to witness you like this. There was no going back from this. He had drawn you in and made you his, and this was where you belonged.

It was when you realized this that you came undone.

Somehow, you remained conscious of your neighbors and stifled the strangled whines that threatened to escape your gaping mouth. You eyes screwed shut in pure concentration, causing a single tear to escape the corner of your right eye.

"Shh," came Zayne's quiet voice from behind you.

He rubbed his nose against your cheek where the tear had fallen, ultimately wiping it away. The contrast of his cool nose against the sizzling skin of your cheek was very noticeable.

"Would you like to lay down?"

"Mhmm." This was the only sound you could get out now, but Zayne understood.

He kept a stable grip on you because he had, in fact, been holding you up for the past several minutes. You would have to thank him later.

Zayne guided you towards the bed and helped you first to sit down, and then to lay your head against the pillows. He gingerly grabbed your ankles and readjusted your legs so that they would be laying more comfortably on the end of the bed.

You couldn't help but cringe at the feeling of your now freezing, wet underwear that was sloppily pulled back into its proper position.

From the left side, you could hear Zayne lay down next to you, and his wide hand rubbed the clammy skin of your stomach.

You laid in silence for a few moments, waiting for your breathing to calm down before speaking.

"That was, ummm..."

You briefly glanced over at the man next to you and couldn't think of what to say next, your mind a tangled mess. Really, you had assumed he would say something to fill the silence where you were lacking. But when he didn't, you decided to take a better look at him.

Though his hand had come to a rest on your stomach, he was not looking at you. Instead he was looking at the ceiling, his jaw set harshly as if he was concentrating on something.

"Zayne, are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

You rolled over onto your side, wrapping an arm around him and trying to ignore the feeling of your bare nipples against his cool exterior.

"No," he said shortly, but softly. "You were perfect, just as I said you would be. I just find myself...struggling to restrain my actions further when I should already be satisfied. And I am...satisfied. However, it would seem that you allowing me this pleasure has turned me into not only an impulsive version of myself, but a greedy one as well."

"Zayne...?"

You began to sit up on your elbow to look at his face, but your other hand brushed up against a lower part of him you weren't expecting to. The sensation immediately elicited a sharp hiss from Zayne.

"Oh!" you exclaimed in surprise, "I'm sorry."

Zayne shook his head roughly.

"Don't be. And don't feel obligated. Promise me, (Y/N). We don't have to go any further."

For a minute, you thought about what you would like to happen next. You took Zayne's words to heart, and you knew he meant them.

But perhaps you had become a bit impulsive as well.

Wordlessly, you finished sitting up enough to look down at Zayne who was now making eye contact with you rather than looking at the ceiling. Your hand had come to rest on his lower stomach now, right below his belly button. If you moved down any further...

You noticed how tight the fabric of his pants was around his bulge. You swallowed thickly, the embers of the fire you felt a little while ago becoming reignited.

"(Y/N)..."

Zayne watched as you looked between him and his painfully restricted erection.

"What do you want, Zayne?"

He was visibly surprised at your sudden confidence, but remained composed.

"That is not as important as what you want. I will always place your needs and wants above my own, no matter how tempting it may be otherwise."

Zayne sounded almost hoarse from timid anticipation and it only further fueled your own desires.

"Let me show you what I want."

He didn't say anything else, he could only watch as your now steady hands touched the belt keeping his pants up.

"(Y/N)," he repeated, this time urgently.

"I want..."

You let your sentence trail off and began undoing his belt as sensually as you could manage. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Zayne's chest begin to heave as he studied you like a hawk.

"You."

The belt was now completely undone, and you pulled it from its loops to toss it carelessly aside on the floor. You then undid the zipper of his pants, the sound of it clashing with Zayne's distorted breaths. Once you had the zipper down all the way, you did the best you could to pull his pants down while he was laying down. It didn't take much before his throbbing length was now restrained by one less layer of clothing.

He shook at the air hitting him down there, and you struggled to keep your eyes from widening noticeably at how large he seemed to be. At the center of his white underwear, you could see several small dark spots from his increasing arousal.

Before he could try to talk you out of it, you lifted one of your legs to straddle him. Both of you moaned simultaneously as your tingling core came into contact with his rock-hard bulge.

Using the last bit of your newfound confidence, you bent down and captured his lips in a wet kiss.

"I have always wanted you."

Zayne watched your lips in awe as you spoke, the corner of his own lifting in a small smile.

And then he collided into you.

It was like the kisses you shared in the parking lot, only...it wasn't at the same time. This felt more primal, more passionate. As if your souls had begun threading together like they were somehow meant to.

You held onto his face tightly as he kissed you, the wet sounds of your mouths echoing in your small bedroom. His deft hands came to rest on your ass, and they dug into the softness there as he thrusted upwards against your throbbing genitals. This caused your back to arch slightly, making your lips leave his, the only thing now connecting them a string of your mixed saliva.

Zayne took this opportunity to roll you under him so that he was now hovering over your exposed body.

One hand held his own body up, and the other tenderly traced around the edge of your breasts.

"You are too good to me," Zayne sighed under his breath.

"And while I do not normally condone this..."

Zayne stood up suddenly and fully removed his pants and underwear in what seemed like one swift motion before climbing back over top of you.

"I have no control left within my body."

His hands gripped your underwear tightly, his knuckles turning white and his veins popping as he completely ripped the flimsy material off of you.

"Zayne!"

He gripped the headboard, leaning over you to whisper in your ear.

"I'll buy you more."

You shuddered at both his words and the proximity of his naked body to yours.

"Do you trust me?" he continued.

"Yes. I trust you Zayne."

"Then hold on," he growled, his hot breath fanning over your ear.

Using his other hand to grip himself, he steered his length to your entrance, teasing it slightly with the head.

"Oh, shit," you gasped loudly.

With no further hesitation, Zayne fully inserted himself inside of you, making the both of you moan noisily. He remained there for a moment, his sweaty chest rubbing against your own. The hand that was on the headboard now came down against the mattress to hold the rest of his body up. His other hand grabbed one of yours, and he weaved his fingers in-between your own.

Your clasped hands gripped each other stiffly as he started to thrust in and out of you. As he did so, your other hand clawed at his back.

Where it had been silent before, your room now seemed like a concert of lewd noises. Zayne's grunts, your mewls, the wet sound of your bodies slamming together repeatedly...it was all so disgustingly beautiful.

Though your eyes were shut, you could feel Zayne's sticky forehead against your temple. The grip he had on your hand intensified, and the rapid, hot breaths from his mouth collided with your neck. Shamefully fast, you felt the familiar feeling of your impending climax, and you couldn't help but wonder if Zayne could, too.

"You..." Zayne panted, pulling himself out of you before slamming back in, all the way up to the base of his cock. "Already?"

You scoffed, opening your eyes to look at him, chastising yourself for thinking he was anything other than observant.

"You do things...to me too, you know?"

Zayne groaned, almost animalistic in the way that it sounded.

You licked your swollen lips, the moisture temporarily aiding in the chapped sensation you had been feeling.

"I want to feel it...I want you to look at me."

Zayne withdrew his hand from yours and instead grabbed your chin roughly. He then turned it, so that you were facing him completely.

"You are doing so well..."

For some reason, you fixated on the sweat that was flowing down the side of Zayne's face, dripping from his soaking wet hair. A few drops of it landed on your cheeks, but Zayne's increasingly harsh thrusts made them run down to your neck.

He kept a grip on your chin and began sucking on the skin where his sweat had pooled against a divot in your neck. It was with such force, you knew there would be a purple bruise there the next morning. The thought of others being able to see the evidence of the filthy night you had with Zayne was enough to send you over the edge for the second time.

Zayne felt you begin to tense up, and knowing what was coming and that he would not be able to stop himself from climaxing inside of you if he remained there, he begrudgingly removed himself just in time.

His warm cum splattered harshly against your pulsing core, and he couldn't help but watch as it did. The sight of you so utterly spent and covered in his seed was enough to make him collapse next to you.

This time, the silence in the room seemed ridiculously loud. It smelled completely of sex, and you knew you would have to wash your bedding tomorrow.

But you also couldn't help but feel completely at ease. That was the closest you could have ever hoped to be to the man you loved.

Love...what a word, right?

Part of you wanted to proclaim it right then and there. Though the other part of you was content with the silence, laying next to the second half of your somewhat broken soul.

It felt complete. You felt complete. And you hoped he did too.

You'd have to thank Richard if you ever saw him again.

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #zayne #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #lads zayne #zayne smut #zayne fic #reader insert #zayne love and deepspace #lnds zayne #love and deepspace zayne

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months ago

Text

Heart VI

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You like Patri's birds

It was sitting in a charity shop.

The camera that is.

It's an old camera, kind of battered from a life well used but still seemingly in working order.

Honestly, it's kind of retro and Mapi really likes the look of it.

She'd only been passing by, off to the shops to get Ingrid some chocolate and stock up on milk. She wasn't quite sure why she stopped to stare but she does.

It's sitting in a box with a roll of old photo film and a camera strap to wear around your neck.

She goes into the charity shop and buys the camera, a steal of ten euros with the roll of film and the strap included.

So, Mapi comes back to the house with Ingrid's chocolate, a pint of milk and a new camera.

"Hey, sunshine," Mapi says, patting the spot on the sofa next to her," Come here."

You sit with her happily and Mapi shows you the camera. She demonstrates how it works and shows you how it prints off the photo immediately like your more modern Polaroid.

"It'll take us a while to find some more film," Mapi tells you," But, here, I've got an idea. You've got maybe four or five pictures left. I want you to really think about what you like and what you want because what you take a picture of, me and Mama will buy it for you. Sound good?"

You nod.

"Good girl."

When Ingrid heard of Mapi's plan, she expected you to start taking pictures of everything right away.

You carry your new camera everywhere with you, the worn strap hanging around your neck.

But you don't take any pictures whatsoever.

You look like you want to but, with an impressive amount of control of a kid, you stop yourself.

You're waiting for something, Ingrid thinks.

You're good at waiting.

You waited for years for your Santa Heart. You can wait to take a picture too.

That's much easier than living in a hospital bed.

Your surgical site has healed up now, leaving only the sliver of a scar that Ingrid still finds herself compulsively checking over at bath time, just to check that nothing's changed with it.

Your check ups have decreased to once every three months now and you're coming along leaps and bounds.

"Patri!" Mapi calls out from the kitchen," Have you got anything kid friendly in here?"

Ingrid sits on Patri's sofa as the rest of the team mill around for team bonding.

Mapi had gone snooping in the kitchen immediately to get snacks for herself and you.

"Yeah, should be in the top cupboard!" Patri yells back.

She's much more preoccupied with bringing her two birds out of their cage to show you.

You're enamoured by them, oohing and aahing ever since you first saw them in the cage earlier.

"You need to be very careful with them," Patri tells you," They're nervous."

"They're pretty," You say," Pretty birds."

"Would you like to hold them?"

"Yes, please!"

These birds are the prettiest birds in the world. They're very sweet as they sit on your arms, making soft little chirping noises and demonstrating tricks for you to see.

It's hard to separate you from the birds for the rest of the day, completely enamoured by them and Patri seems both delighted and surprised that you love them so much.

They're all you talk about on the way home from team bonding and all you talk about during your bath and bedtime routine.

Ingrid's taken control of that for tonight as Mapi changes into her pyjamas and feeds Bagheera some treats.

"Mami?"

She turns with a smile.

"Have you come to say goodnight, sunshine?"

You nod. "Mama is choosing our story. She said I've got to say goodnight now."

Mapi crosses the room quickly, pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek. "I love you."

"Love you," You echo, suddenly looking extremely nervous.

Mapi frowns. "What's up? Huh? What's wrong?"

"I...er...I...Mami I used my new camera."

"There's nothing wrong with that. That's what it's there for."

"No, I..." You nibble at your bottom lip. "I think I did it wrong. I took pictures of something you can't get me."

Mapi's frown only deepens and she kneels down to your height, hand going to rest on your cheek. "Why don't you show me?"

"I don't want you to be mad."

"How about this? I'm going to close my eyes and you can give me a picture and run off back to Mama and go to bed. We can discuss it tomorrow."

"Okay, Mami. Eyes closed."

The little Polaroids are placed into Mapi's hands and she waits until your footsteps have gone silent to open them again.

"Oh, sunshine," Mapi says to herself.

All five pictures are of the same thing.

Patri's birds.

One of them in their cage.

One of them pressed up against the bars.

One of them on Patri's head.

One of them on your arm.

One of them of you and them cuddled up together.

Ingrid inspects them that evening.

"I don't know what to do!" Mapi exclaims in bed, head resting on Ingrid's chest," She really liked Patri's birds and I told her that whatever she photographed she could have! But she seemed so nervous like she didn't even want to ask!"

"Mapi," Ingrid says," She was nervous because she thinks we won't want to buy her birds. You told her just last week that cats don't like birds and we do have Bagheera."

"Bagheera's lazy," Mapi replies," She won't care about birds."

"Then what are you worried about?"

"I...I don't really know. Are you okay with us having birds?"

Ingrid smiles, cheeks going slightly red. "I was already looking for cages."

It's been weeks since you first met Patri's birds and you're just as obsessed with them are you first were when you met them.

Patri seems to love it, endlessly bragging and showing off new pictures to you that you suitably coo over and secretly wish you had a pair of your own.

But you don't push Mama and Mami on it.

Bagheera is a cat and cats don't like birds. It says so in your storybook so you wish for birds secretly and clip the pictures you took of Patri's onto the soft fairy lights that hang around your room.

You wish you had birds of your own but that'll be something that happens when you're an adult like how Mami and Mama are adults and have Bagheera.

Ingrid holds you up on her hip as she walks from the elevator to the front door, easily carrying you, the shopping and unlocking the door all at the same time.

"Tia Ale wants a baby," You tell Ingrid," She told me so."

"That's because you're just so cute," Ingrid replies, fluttering kisses all over your cheeks," Alexia's got baby fever."

"But I'm not a baby."

"You're my baby," Ingrid declares," Mine and Mami's baby."

You giggle, the kisses tickling you.

"Now," Ingrid says, setting you down," Mami has a surprise for you in your bedroom, okay? You have to be very quiet and very responsible. Can you do that for me?"

You nod. "I can."

Ingrid gives you one last kiss on the cheek. "I knew you would be. Why don't you head in to see Mami?"

Mapi is standing by your bedroom door, giving you her customary kiss and cuddle before opening your bedroom door.

By the foot of your bed is a big cage with a blanket over it.

You gasp.

"Mami-?"

Mapi nods.

"I told you I'd get what you photographed. Do you want to meet your new birds, sunshine?"

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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lovebugism · 10 months ago

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Hi there 👋🏻 I've been binge reading your stories lately and I love them all! I have a request if you're up for it. Could you write one where shy!reader doesn't like her laugh because some people think it's annoying but Eddie loves it? Totally not self-projecting by the way! 🙃 Thank you!

thank you angel! please enjoy :D — eddie comforts you when he finds out an old boyfriend made you hate your laugh (shy!fem!r, established relationship, hurt/comfort, 1k)

You and Eddie sit on opposite sides of the worn, sunken-in couch — long legs bent at the knees, socked feet wedged neatly beneath your thighs. Your bare calves rest on either side of his lap while his calloused palms rub up and down the length of them. His touch is largely absentminded as he tries hopelessly not to laugh through the punchline of his own joke.

“—And I was like, ‘Boom. You lookin’ for this?’”

You think the brown-eyed look of expectancy he gives you is funnier than anything. You smile wide, hiding the sparkling expression behind your palm.

Eddie meets your beam with a boyish pout. He repeats the punchline, more serious this time. “And I was like, ‘Boom’—”

“I heard you, Eds,” you assure with a small chuckle. A mere breath of a laugh.

His frown deepens. “Oh, c’mon!” he exclaims, lifting his hands in protest. They drop back to your ankles a second later. “That was funny! That always kills with Hellfire!”

You nod rapidly, brows raised and eyes wide, like a parent comforting a child. “It was good,” you assure quickly.

“Then why aren’t you laughing?”

“So, what— I have to laugh if I think something’s funny?”

“Well, that’s usually how it works, yeah,” Eddie monotones with a flat face, nodding until his wild curls sway around his jaw. He shrugs lazily a second later and jokes, “If you’re not a psychopath, at least… You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

You meet his narrowed eyes with a more pensive gaze. Your lips purse to the side of your mouth as you jokingly ponder the silly question. “No,” you answer after a few long moments. “Not yet, anyway.”

Eddie nods like he’s relieved. “Nice.”

“There’s still time, though,” you add with a scrunched nose.

He scrunches the bridge of his back. “I’ll take that risk,” he says with a small huff before lifting his weight on his knuckles. The old couch creaks in protest as he leans over to kiss you.

With a poorly bitten-back grin, you meet him halfway. Your mouths smack together in a fleeting kiss that tastes faintly of frozen pizza.

You settle back on the arm of the couch with Eddie’s socked toes wriggling under your thighs. His thumbs continue tracing shapes on the insides of your calves. He watches you watch the staticky television screen, too wound up about the whole thing to join in on the stupid sitcom.

The subtly overwhelming feeling bubbles in his throat until it spills like vomit from his mouth. “Do you think I’m not funny or something?” he blurts, then goes all shy right after. “Is that why… Is that why you don’t really laugh at my jokes?”

Your breathy scoff only further proves his point. “I laugh at your jokes all the time, Eds.”

He shrugs, unconvinced. “I mean… I guess. You, like, breathe really hard through your nose or whatever, but you don’t… You don’t laugh.”

“I think if you heard me laugh, you’d break up with me,” you joke and don’t think twice about how self-deprecating it is.

Eddie’s face twists at the thought — that he’d ever want to break up with you, or that there’d be a part of you he wouldn’t automatically adore on instinct. “Why would you say that?”

You shrug with a vague I don’t know type of sound and turn back to the television. “My laugh is just weird, I guess....”

“No one’s laugh is weird!” Eddie insists. “It’s, like, the one sound people make when they’re happiest— It can’t be weird.”

You flash him a deadpan look of silent disagreement.

He caves.

“Okay. Fine. Dustin Henderson’s laugh is weird,” he concludes. “But… that’s just because he’s Dustin, you know?”

You breathe a faint chuckle at that. Almost like you’ve trained yourself to be as quiet in your laughter as you can.

“My last boyfriend thought my laugh was annoying,” you confess like it’s no big deal. “So eventually I just kinda… stopped.”

Eddie’s soft features harden into a solemn frown. “What a fucking prick…” he grumbles like a storm cloud.

“It’s okay. I got over it. Mostly.”

He squeezes the backs of your calves with a pair of ringed hands, a warm and reassuring touch. “Well, I don’t think anything you do could annoy me,” Eddie tells you, tilting his head to the side until his wild curls bunch at his shoulders. “Just so we’re clear.”

Something in your chest flutters — like there’s a thousand moths trapped behind your ribcage. “Good to know,” you tease in the same sardonic tone.

Eddie rises suddenly, tugging at your ankles until you’re lying flatter on the couch. A squeal sound in your throat as you watch him rise to his knees and lean over you. He digs his fingers gently into the plush of your sides before you can blink.

“Get off!” you swat at him, laughing loudly at the tickling sensation before you can help it. The golden sound spills from your lips and fills the dim trailer with so many little sunbeams.

Your face heats at the proud, lopsided smile Eddie gives you.

“Get off,” you repeat, sterner now but still mostly playful. You’re only slightly surprised when Eddie obeys without pouting. You sit up a bit more and tug your shirt down from where it had ridden up. “And stop looking at me like that.”

Eddie fights to purse his beam to the side of his mouth. Your sparkling, unsmiling disposition is impossible not to smile at. “Can’t help it,” the boy shrugs with a stupid grin. “You’re too cute.”

Your face scrunches in disdain of his compliment. You prop your back against the couch and cross your arms over your chest, averting your gaze to the TV once more. “Just drive me home,” you grumble in protest, hardly meaning it.

“No can do, sweet thing,” Eddie says with a sympathetic sigh, dropping a heavy arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest. You melt begrudgingly into his sloppy embrace. He presses a kiss to your hair and mumbles into your temple. “‘M never letting you go, actually.”

And, despite your very obvious pouting, you pray he never breaks his promise.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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angel-of-the-moons · 10 months ago

Text

Desert Heat

Alpha!Cooper Howard x Fem!Omega!Reader

TW/CW: Smut, NSFW, Omegaverse AU, Chem usage, Chems, Heat cycles, Rough Sex, Sex-pollen, Dub-con, Dirty talk, Dacryphilia, Needy!Reader, Oral sex (m + f), Cumming untouched, Biting, Marking, Breeding kink, Knotting, Unprotected Sex, Creampie (Pack your RadAway, kids!)

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Blame @hydraliskisk for this one lmaoooo (And no, I still haven't seen the show... I can't find the time to sit down and relax enough to do it at home) Honestly? No idea what else to say, except I've never written Omegaverse stuff before this, so it was all new to me! This felt like a fever dream 😭 Enjoy this dumpster fire!

Taglist: @anna-n-hetfield

Cooper found himself grinding his teeth yet again, for the millionth time that day as he rooted about the ruins of the little rural neighborhood. He was on edge; his puckered and scarred skin itching beneath the surface, like the bad come-down from a fucked up chem.

He had another argument with you, his "lovely" little traveling companion; the third in the past two days. You had been getting increasingly temperamental. He had to guess you were going through withdrawal; your favorite particular tin case of "Fixer" was empty, so he assumed your newfound testiness was a result of that situation.

But Jesus fucking Christ, you were a bitchy little Beta, weren't you? Certainly had bite when you got pissed off. It'd be cute, if you weren't such a thorn in his side, at the moment.

He kicked over an empty wooden box, frowning at the long-since spoiled jars of preserved fruits and vegetables, his jaw working itself hard with a rough click.

He hoped your search was more fruitful than his own; your supplies were on the iffy side in terms of food and he knew that as a ghoul, he didn't need to eat as often as you did anymore. But you were still smooth and (as far as he knew) un-mutated, so all of your biological needs still needed to be tended to.

It was an irritating hassle, but he couldn't deny how scrappy and useful you were in terms of scavenging and watching his back so he could get sleep when he wanted it--thankful you were also a crack shot thanks to being born out here in the wastes.

Once again, his gloved hand scratched at his neck as he moved on to another house, ready to search for food, water, and Chems, if need be, too. Some Rad-X and RadAway were worth more than water to him, at this point...

You hated this.

Hate, hate, absolutely, unequivocally despised the situation you'd accidentally backed yourself into. You were hoping to keep your secret for as long as possible; but during your travels monitoring your Fixer stash had been almost an afterthought. You took one to one-and-a-half daily, carefully stretching your stash for as long as possible.

You knew your one-month pause in your doses was coming, and you were hoping to get away from Cooper long enough to take care of your problems on your own; but that wasn't feasible given how far out in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere you found yourselves in.

You had resisted the urge to hunker down as long as possible... But your instincts were firing on full-blast.

Your heat suppressants had worn off. And Cooper, unfortunately... Well. He was the only Alpha nearby, and you knew he'd figure it out at some point. You just didn't want him to find out so soon; all because of your shitty planning.

Your feet dragged through the rotting aisles of the small general store, barely paying attention and swiping whatever looked good enough to take into your satchel, some dented cans of unopened cram, a few preserved boxes of stale snack cakes...

You were so out of it, you hadn't even noticed how your hands had begun unwrapping the sweet morsels and eating through the meager rations you'd scrounged up. After swallowing the last cake you had unwrapped, you stuffed them into your bag and willed yourself to stop focusing on them and drank greedily from your canteen.

Fuck. You were already stuffing yourself. You knew what would inevitably come next...

You swallowed hard and returned to your task of scavenging; managing to find a box of .38 rounds, some cans of emergency ration water, and even a small stash of caps that you pocketed to divide later, when you were more in your right mind.

Your eyes, however, lit up when you spotted a cluster of prickly pear growing beneath a blown-out window, the fruit running in mixes ranging from green to mauve to a deep, almost bloody-purple shade. Perfect.

You slipped on your rawhide gloves to protect yourself from the thorns and glochids sticking out so menacingly from the skin of the fruit. As you twisted and plucked each treat from the source, you set each one down in a cracked ceramic bowl lying nearby. You'd need to run them over a flame to burn off the microscopic needles before you could skin and eat them; but right now you were only partially thinking about that.

A shimmer caught your eye, a flower growing at the base of the cactus. The petals were vibrant pink. It almost looked like a Venus flytrap, in the way the spindly, velvety tendrils opened and closed, the stalk expanding in a way that made you think the plant was almost breathing.

You tilted your head, your pre-heat daze almost forgotten as your attention was grabbed by this mutated, alien-looking plant. Despite everything else, even in regards to the thriving cactus it sprouted at the feet from... it was a bright and vibrant green as well, happily nourished in the dry earth within the ruined building. The bright splash of color mixed with the undulating petals were transfixing to your addled state.

Forgetting caution above all else, your fingers began to clasp around the stalk of one of the flowers to pluck it, to examine it closer. But as you did that, the flower had lurched in a way that looked like it was about to vomit.

You fell back onto your butt as it spat out a shimmery cloud of pollen into your face. It burned and tickled your nose as you inhaled, waving your hand in front of your face frantically to clear the air, sputtering and coughing around the choking dust as you wiped your eyes and face, looking at the thin chalky substance that was transferred onto your glove.

And, within the span of a few moments... it was like everything else just... didn't matter. Your goals of scavenging were tossed out of your mental window, your body's reaction like a wildfire in dry brush.

Your brain was buzzing, your instincts overriding your common sense as you stand up and walk away from the bowl of fruit. You raipped off your bag your bag and only half paid attention to the sound of the tin cans clattering and ammo tinkling as it spilled out, the weight of the leather strap had rapidly been becoming more and more uncomfortable, your clothes beginning to feel like sandpaper on your skin.

A bead of sweat trickled down between your shoulder blades, and you shuddered. Your eyes looked around almost frantically. You needed somewhere safe, your instincts screamed mercilessly.

And, by the grace of whatever kind of omniscient being that was up in the sky, you found a basement.

It looked like whoever owned the store had refitted it into some kind of shelter. Or, hell, maybe it was used by some scavver before you had traipsed along. Whatever it had been used for, you didn't care, it was yours now.

It had a bed, a couch, some more supplies half-assedly stacked on a rickety table... your eyes adjusted to the dark, the only source of light you had was the light bleeding from the open basement door, and the faintly glowing mushrooms that sprouted from the basement walls in thick clumps.

The logical part of your brain identified the fungi; you could use them to make RadAway with the supplies you had on hand. Another part of your logic had told you something crucial--that plant; whatevert it was, had spat out a cloud of pollen that had all but skipped your pre-heat, only just barely leaving your basic instincts to nest, and the overwhelming craving to be pinned down to the nearest surface and fucked until you were round with somebody's pups.

The rest of your mind was spiraling so quickly you felt like you were drunk; cramps rippling through your lower half impeded your progress as you ripped the threadbare blankets and cushions off of the couch, piling them on top of the mattress you'd tossed to the floor from the rusted metal frame it had been laid on, pushing them up into a corner that felt the most secure and least exposed, trying to make it as comfortable as possible.

Your clothes had become drenched with your sweat, the crotch of your pants and underwear all but ruined by your excess slick. You growled and grunted as you tugged them off, kicking the offending garments away and sighing in relief at the cool, damp air hitting your hot skin.

Another shudder rippled through you as you felt another wave of cramps hit your abdomen; your pussy fluttering with needy want, making you whine loudly as you pant, crawling back up the stairs to slap the door closed.

You needed to ride this out. Somehow.

The next few days were going to be hell.

Cooper clicked his tongue, spitting out the dry reed he'd begun chewing on as his boots kicked up dust, the rusty spurs tinkling with every step as he made his way to the last place you could possibly be--the ruined general store.

He had to admit, this little place would make a good settlement. He couldn't help but wonder why it hadn't been settled. The river that had--by a chance of dumb luck--kept flowing had allowed the land to grow a steady clump of greens and browns. Cacti and Joshua trees littered the area, more than a few large agave plants had overgrown the smaller walkways; their prickly limbs reaching out like the epicenter of a pale green explosion.

He chuckled at his mental comparisons. Ironic.

But he pushed that thought to the side; he had observed a small flower of some kind. A pair of lizards he'd planned to catch and eat had skittered up to it, drawn by the lure of fat insects buzzing around the flower for a nice meal for themselves.

He watched as one of the little critters had crept closer, preparing to lash its tongue out to snag one of the fat, fluttering bugs. But as it did, the flower lurched, belching a cloud of pollen at it that made the lizard hiss; thrashing briefly in the sand as its companion crawled over to examine its friend.

The male--oh, he was certain it was a male--lifted its head after a moment, the throat sack beneath his throat puffed up, turning a bright shade of red. A mating display, he realized.

Cooper had watched with slight interest; remembering, once-upon-a-time, of a nature documentary he'd watched with his daughter, Janey, of desert lizards. This sort of thing was the closest form of entertainment he had during his traveling, reminding him with a dull throb of nostalgia and grief at the life he had lost, before.

His thoughts were pulled back to the now, as he watched the male lizard chase his female companion around, until he assumed, he tackled her beneath a rocky crag somewhere to mate with her. He'd snorted, reminding himself to steer clear of those flowers.

Getting hot and horny could be a death sentence, out in the wasteland. You could be so caught up in the moment, you could get snuck up on and offed in the middle of the night; your supplies picked from your carcass by who-knows-who...

And he wasn't looking to have his card punched with his cock in hand. That just wasn't a good way to go out.

Cooper's dark eyes lifted up, clicking his tongue at the lilted sign of the shop, stepping over the bleached wood of the door that had long since rotted off its hinges.

The setting sun had put a damper in his plans. He'd wanted to find you and get out of the proverbial ghost town before the darkness had set in. Something about these old buildings had him uncomfortable.

His gloved finger snagged the collar of his faded shirt, tugging on it as he hissed out a heavy sigh. Why was it so fuckin' hot in here? The fuck smelled so... sweet?

His finger pulled the hammer back and his thumb flicked the cylinder release as he crept along the rotting shelves. He'd called out your name once. Upon receiving no answer, his brow furrowed.

"Darlin', now ain't the time to be playing in the dark." Cooper growled, his eyes scanning the shop for any signs of you.

In the setting sunlight, his eyes caught the glimmer of one of your buckles of your satchel. He quickly rushed over to where it had been tossed--maybe in some kind of tussle--and frowned. It was full of freshly scavenged supplies. Guns, ammo... your favorite chem tin.

As his eyes gave a passing scan to your empty tin, his gaze lifted to the cactus you'd been harvesting, the bowl of fruit laying untouched since you'd picked it.

What remained of his nose twitched; your scent was everywhere, tainted with the strangling-sweet smell clinging to the dust in the air. He couldn't pick up anybody else's around, so that ruled out you getting into a fight. So the question remained the same--where were you?

He holstered his pistol when he examined the cactus closer, frowning as the strange plant from before twitched and swayed on its own, lurching and grabbing flies that got too close to the petals of the flower. Cooper grunted, looking down to the dented metal tin still clutched in his hand.

His heart had almost skipped out of his chest as he finally bothered to examine the writing scrawled on the tin in proper detail; among your little scratches and scribbles was the name of the chem it contained.

It wasn't just regular Fixer. It was Heat-Fixer. A common variation of the chem that had been used even before the Great War to ward off an Omega's heat cycles as long as they took it regularly and in safe doses. He remembered once, being in Anchorage and it was revealed that one of his comrades in his unit was an Omega; he explained what exactly the Fixer did to his team over a lull in combat one night.

And you currently had an empty tin.

An empty tin of heat-supressants, coupled with the strange pollen of that flower... it wasn't a good combination for an Omega to be caught out in the middle of nowhere while in heat, not when someone could so easily stumble upon you and take advantage of your crazed and sex-hungry state.

No wonder you had been so snappy and irritable. No wonder you had been so anxious and ready to go to the next town, to hunker down there for a few days. He had assumed you were just being spoiled, wanting to pamper yourself somehow from the tough life on the road.

Now, he realized, you had been hoping to shut yourself in somewhere, to hide the mutated elephant you tried to smuggle into the room. Oh, yeah... he'd have a long talk with you once all this was over with.

"Fuckin' hell, darlin'." He muttered, shaking his head, his jaw clenched tight as he tossed it back into your bag, slinging it over his bandolier as he continued his search for you.

Your scent had him almost dizzy, he had even stumbled over his own feet once or twice as he looked for you. He knew Omegas had some strong instincts; he knew from experience you were going to look for somewhere safe to ride this out, to try and take care of yourself.

But on the off-chance something else had happened to you... Cooper had inwardly cursed at himself for being so worried. You were sometimes a little naive, believing in the best of the worst of people that had been a part of your tribal-turned-civilized home where he'd found you.

You had been an outcast even among your own tribe, most likely smothering your Omega nature by sneaking off under the guise of "scavenging" during your heats and the suppressants you were taking to mask it all.

Aside from finding out you were an Omega, not a Beta like you'd claimed, Cooper had felt a bit of kinship with you in how you were ostracized for how you were, maybe even a bit towards your naive hope that the best in humanity could one day resurface despite everything around you staring you in the face and screaming otherwise...

His mouth had become dry and he swallowed hard, his tongue practically choking him. It felt like he had a wad of cotton in his mouth despite the saliva that had begun to accumulate. The identity of your scent had finally dawned on him. The familiar, comforting scent of something akin to an apple pie; something he hadn't had in a very, very long time. And the idea he might be able to taste it again had consumed a part of his brain.

Your pheromones had all but tainted the stale air inside the small structure; if he still had any hair, it would have been standing on end as each drag of air coated his lungs in everything that was you.

Fuck, you smelled delicious. Good enough to eat.

Cooper gritted his teeth once more, briefly reaching down to press his palm into the rather pressing erection that had become prominently bulged in his old worn trousers. His own Alpha instincts had stirred; they had been almost dormant for so long, he'd almost forgotten them.

But right now, every one of his senses had picked up you. A sweet, perfect little Omega, writhing somewhere on your own and waiting to be bred. He shuddered at his train of thought; reminding himself that he was looking for you to make sure you were okay... to... to make sure you were safe, and to--what was he thinking, again?

Fuck. Right. He was going to find you, and stand guard around wherever you'd nested up and just wait for it to pass. Lecture you when it was over.

But as he crept along the ruined store, he had to stop and slump against a wall, his eyes rolling at the smell permeating the air, your pheromones flooding his bloodstream like the sweetest chem he'd had in a long, long time.

Cooper had managed to drag one foot after the other to find the basement door. Your scent rolled from the wood like the smoke to a powerful fire. You were down there, alright.

And against his better judgement, Cooper twisted the rust old knob and took the first step down, pulling out his old--and by-miracle still functioning--wind-up flashlight, he flicked the switch and walked down, his eyes tracking the glowing fungi that lined bits of the basement walls with a bit of giddy euphoria.

"Cooper..." He'd heard you croak out.

He spun on his heels, the beam of his light eventually turning onto you.

His heart had jumped up into his throat as he took you in; your frantically-made nest, the barriers you'd built between you and the rest of the room... the bare, sweaty skin that glistened in the torchlight he held in his hand.

He shook his head as another wave of your pheromones blasted him full-force. Fuck. What the hell had he been thinking? Oh. Right. He hadn't been thinking. He let his dick do the walking and find you, like some sex-crazed punk Alpha just coming into his nature.

"Cooper." You said again, your pupils blown so wide he almost couldn't see the color of your irises as you looked at him with your hooded gaze, your lips looking all to plush and swollen as you licked at them.

"Darlin', you..." He swallowed hard, his hard cock already bordering on painful, sweat beginning to soak through his shirt beneath his leather duster as his breathing increased.

"Help me. Please." You whined, sitting up more as you crawled over the nest of blankets towards him as your tongue ran over your teeth, your hips swaggering with each movement; reminding him of the scene in a shitty porno magazine he read as a younger man.

"Need something--"

"Shit. No." Cooper hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as he regained a semblance of some control over himself once again; backing up to the stairs, ready to rush back up them and lock you down here until this was all over.

When the stairs creaked under the weight of his first step, you whined, halting any more movement from him.

"Please." You panted, little whimpers bubbling through from between each syllable as you spoke, "Need help... goin' nuts... need you... please."

Cooper had stupidly snuck a glance at you, standing on your knees and leaning forward slightly in the middle of the dusty floor, one hand roughly groping at your own breast and the other snaking between your legs to roll your clit in time with the lazy thrusts of your hips. It was the sexiest goddamn thing he'd seen in his fucking life; a fresh rush of arousal making his cock throb.

"Help me." You whined, your eyes watery and needy as your gazes locked in the darkened space.

His eyes rolled back into his head and Cooper growled, his chest tightening at how you whined once more in submission to him. His feet stomped across the room, and he set his light down on the table enough to illuminate some of the room; namely you.

"Needy little fuckin' Omega," Cooper had spat as he ripped off his excessive bulk. Your bags joined his on the table, the contents scattering across the surface as his bandolier was tossed on top of it all alongside his guns.

"You been thinkin' about getting fucked all day, haven't ya?" He sneered as he tugged his gloves off with his teeth, dropping them as he moved back towards you.

You leaned into his touch as one of his hands cupped your cheek, eyes fluttering closed as he used his other hand plucked the buttons on the collar of his shirt free; his dark eyes taking in your soaked and aroused state as your hand between your legs continued to furiously rub and pinch at yourself for any stimulation--to ease that growing ache in your cunt.

The rough and scarred pad of his thumb swept a desperate tear from your cheek as he spoke; "A needy little bitch in heat, ain'tcha? Fuck, what if it wasn't me that came lookin' for ya?" His hand went from gentle to rough, squishing your cheeks between his fingers as he forced you to look up to him, his lips curling up into a snarl. "Bet at this point you'd go and bend over for any wasteland fuck coming along to bury their cock in you, probably fuck some pups into ya."

Your mouth opened in a breathy little moan, your eyes almost fluttering closed once again as he continued. "Well, fuck that. I ain't letting no fucking scavver take what's mine, got it?"

Your eyes immediately went to his crotch when his free hand roughly worked free his belt buckle, ripping his button open and fly down to free his throbbing cock to you, your mouth watering and your pussy flooding at the premise of him just burying himself inside of you and staying there.

"Now, given all the trouble you've been causin' me... I'm tempted to not give you my cock, got it?" He huffed, looking down at you from the remnants of the bridge of his nose, a sick sense of pride swelling his ego at how your eyes grew wide and panicked; like you were a junkie denied their next fix, so gone in withdrawal you thought you were going to die.

Cooper laughed at you as tears gathered in your eyes at his threat, your pretty little lip wobbling. He could almost hear your heart pound in the sweet little chest of yours. He squished your cheeks once again to snap you out of it, groaning as his hand gripped the base of his cock. "But you've got me in a bit of a state, babydoll." He drawled. "So..."

He tapped the tip of his scarred and gnarled cock to your lips, and grunted when you immediately curled your tongue underneath the tip, sucking him past your plush lips with a loud and grateful moan.

"...you're gonna suck me reeeal good... and maybe, if you're a good girl, you'll get it all, got it?"

You moaned again as you took him deeper, your tongue curling around his shaft as your head moved further down his length, gagging around him as you try to take too much too quickly.

Cooper fisted your hair and yanked you back, his gravelly voice tumbling out of him as he looked down at you, a warning in his eyes. "Don't push yourself, cupcake. Take what you can. I'd hate for you to choke on my cock before I've had a chance to fuck you with it."

You nodded drunkenly, immediately moving to take him into the wet cavern of your mouth once again with loud slurping sounds as you bobbed your head, your fingers rolling your clit in time with the bob of your head and the cant of your hips. Cooper ran his fingers through your hair, petting you as he watches you return to your task with feverish need.

"That's it, babydoll... fuck. You been thinkin' about this for some time, huh? Havin' somebody let you take their cock in your mouth?" He laughed, his voice going tight as you moaned in reply.

"Shit--that's it! Fuck..."

Cooper's heart was pounding in his chest as he feels your tongue swirl the tip of his cock. It had been too damn long since he'd had a good fuck; and you were proving to be a goddamn amazing one, so far, if your tongue skills were anything to go by. His hands gripped the back of your head and he started to arch his back, fucking his cock into your mouth with a loud, pleasured sigh. He wasn't going to last long, and he had disregarded his earlier warnings of taking it too quickly as the haze of his building orgasm began to swell as he began to use your mouth for his own pleasure. Not that you minded.

The moment he felt his cock twitch, he grunted, his eyes rolling back.

"Shit, darlin'... get ready."

You whined around his cock, your cunt gushing around your fingers as you plunged them inside, your lashes brushing your cheeks as you eagerly try to taste every drop he was willing to give you.

The first splash on your tongue had you a moaning mess, arousal burning low in your belly and a bubble that had been swelling was ready to burst. Cooper yanked you back by the hair again and gripped his cock, jerking furiously as each hot volley of thick cum coated your face, splashing on your tongue as it lolled out of your mouth; dripping down your chin and onto your breasts.

Cooper chuckled grimly, "Well... that's one way to mark that prettly lil' body of yours."

He quickly swiped his cum off of your face, earning a complaining whine from you until he crammed his fingers into your mouth, letting you suck them clean; tasting him mixed with the dirt, grime, and gunpowder that clung to his skin. His eyes flashed dangerously as he watched you spasm slightly, eyes rolling back; his taste, the sensations he was pushing on your and the sheer forcefulness of his actions making you climax as you moaned around his hand that was all but choking you.

"Look't you. So fuckin' cockdrunk you can't even fuckin' talk." He mocked playfully, pulling his fingers from your lips with a loud pop.

Cooper kneeled down in front of you and grinned, his teeth flashing that signature smile of his as he practically lunged for you; hoisting you over his shoulder and slapping a palm over your ass, fingers dipping into your sweet cunt to toy with the juices that dribbled down your thighs, making you moan obscenely.

He dropped to his knees and rolled you down onto the nest you'd made in the corner, watching with his grin; twisting his scarred face in a look of aroused glee as you laid back and spread your legs for him, showcasing just how badly you needed him.

"Damn, darlin'... got yourself lookin' like a nice glazed snack, for me." He chuckled, beginning to shrug his shirt the rest of the way off, working his pants down his legs as he blindly kicked his shoes off in the dark. "Makes me wanna fuckin' eat ya right up..."

He tipped his head to the side, one of his hands grabbing his hat and tossing it off somewhere out of sight as he exposed more and more of himself to your hungry eyes. "Actually... that ain't a bad idea, heh."

Your hips rolled and you spread your puffy and swollen lips apart for him with a mewl as he lowered himself down onto his belly and elbows, looking up at you with a glimmer in his eyes.

"Now, I ain't gonna just give it to ya, sweetheart... you gotta tell me. Ask me nice."

"Please. Cooper. Please." You pant. "Please, please, please, please please--"

"Now, now..." Cooper warned, reaching up to slap his fingers onto your clit and watching your body jump at the contact. "That's not what I meant."

Your brows furrow down at him, swallowing the saliva that accumulated in your mouth as your brain tries to process what he meant through the red fog your mind was clouded with.

Finally, it clicks.

"Cooper, please..." You mewl loudly. "A-Alpha, please--"

The sound that comes from him makes your mind blank and your body shudder, going almost slack with relief as his lips closed around your weeping cunt, babbling "thank you's" and frantic, almost incoherent words as he gave you a taste of what you'd been craving.

You were veeeery happy it was Cooper that found you. Right now you couldn't imagine anyone else to have between your legs, drinking you down like you were his first taste of water after being stranded in the desert.

Cooper had laid there for... he didn't even know how long. Tasting you, edging you, biting and nipping your inner thighs, making you cum to the point you felt like you had gone blind had his chest swell with pride and... something else. More than just plain sexual attraction, more than the fact that you were and Omega accepting him as your Alpha right now...

He didn't focus on that too long, shoving those feelings to the back of his mind as he rose to his knees, yanking your quivering hips close to him, his cock slapping your belly as he stared down at you.

"Gonna fuck you now, darlin'. Give you every fuckin' inch of what you've been wanting." Cooper hissed, rolling his cock through your slick folds with a lazy thrust. Your hands reach out to grab at his arms, frantic and wanting as you nodded dumbly, mindlessly.

"Please, please--yes, yes, yes--"

"Easy, now." Cooper chuckled, his voice almost dropping into fondness as his hands gripped and squished your thighs. "Just lay back and let me fuck you like y'need, alright, baby?"

You keen lowly, dropping your head onto one of the pillows as you feel the tip of his cock notch at your waiting hole, your pussy clenching as he pushed in; his pace torturously slow as he sunk himself within your welcoming, tight and wet heat.

He tipped his head back with a pleasured sigh, his voice shaky, as he savored the ecstasy of your body; "Jesus fuck, you feel so damn good... fit me like a glove, sweetheart."

"Fuck me." You mewled, frantically grabbing at whatever bits of him you could to try and urge him on, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the back of his thighs as you try to encourage him deeper.

Cooper growled at you, leaning down to press his mouth to your ear; "You don't tell me what to fuckin' do. Right now, I'm gonna fuck you so full you're gonna feel like yer gonna pop. Got it? Don't get bossy on me, y'hear?"

You curled around him, clinging to him desperately. "Sorry. Sorry, sorry..." You cried softly. "J-Just n-need... Need you, please..."

"I was just teasin' ya, sweetheart..." Cooper sighed with a chuckle, pulling out halfway before sharply thrusting back in, your breasts jiggling as your body jerks with the effort of his thrust. "Don't be such a crybaby."

Your jaw snaps shut with a strangled moan, your teeth grinding as your body welcomes him eagerly, all the stress and anxiety of your heat melting away in the pleasure that Cooper was bullying into your cunt, sloppy, loud, lewd noises coming from between you as he plunged his cock in and out of you; his skin slapping against yours.

A small part of you right now was vaguely recalling your past heats. How you would scurry away when you couldn't make your Heat-Fixer on your own, or score any from passing caravans; how you would hide in your secret little cave and masturbate to thoughts of having someone just come and take the edge off for you, you just bend you over and fuck you until your mind didn't come back into logical focus for days after the fact--to fuck you so full you were certain "your" Alpha had bred you as your biological needs shouted that you needed.

Your nails dig into Cooper's back, scratching fresh masks into his pitted and wrinkled skin, the texture of his cock making your head spin even more as you breathed in his own pheromones; Cooper's scent had always comforted you. Somehow, the scent that was not unique in the world today felt unique to him, and only him. Gunpowder, petrichor, and sweet honey bourbon.

You didn't realize just how much you loved and craved to have his scent on you until now; a loud moan slithering out of you as he dragged his tongue up your throat, mouthing your swollen scent gland messily, making your hips stutter against his and your breath hitch into a small sob as his tongue laves over the soft flesh.

"Smell so fuckin' good." Cooper growls, his voice sending vibrations through your sensitive skin as he continues to rut his cock into you. The pitch of his tone makes you whimper in submission, rolling your head to the side to let him have better access as he licked and kissed your throat, moving from one side to the other.

"Fuck--" He panted, driving his hips into your again and again, the sweat on your body making it difficult to get a decent grip on your soft hips. Your scent was driving him insane; he was finding himself wanting to keep his face buried either at your throat or between your legs. If he wasn't so pressed to just fuck you, Cooper would have gladly stayed with his head buried between your legs until he got his fill of you.

However, now that he's had a taste of you, now that he's felt you squeezing and milking his dick for anything he was willing to give you... he wasn't sure he would ever get a fill. Your scent was goddamn maddening to him; it made him hungry in more ways than one. He never realized it before, but now that you were uninhibited by the Fixer, it hit him full-force. And just the mere thought of another Alpha putting their hands on you made him mad with... possession?

He swallowed back a mouthful of saliva, clenching his jaw as he panted hotly in your ear, "Feel so fuckin' good around my cock, babydoll."

You choked for air when you feel his knot almost catch, your orgasm dancing just out of reach; walls clenching around him every time you felt it press against your entrance.

"Please, please..." You begged, running your hand up his back, tracing every deep groove and bit of scarred flesh you could; mapping out every inch you could feel beneath your fingertips.

"N-Need..."

One of his arms was currently bracing himself next to your head, which his other hand pawed at your hip, gripping the sweaty, smooth skin so tight there would likely be bruises in the shape of his handprint that would be visible for days on.

His mouth once again hovered over your scent gland, and you pressed one of your hands to the back of his neck to urge you on; "Please..." You begged once more.

Cooper gave you a look out of the corner of his eye, and as you opened your mouth to plead with him once more, he sunk his teeth directly into your throat. Your moan was so loud, he could almost hear the rush of his blood beneath it as the coppery taste of your blood coated his tongue.

"Fuck!" You sob, grinding your hips against his, your spongy walls throbbing almost painfully as you finally feel him force his knot past that last barrier of resistance; feeling it swell and lock him in place, the sensation finally ripping a mind-numbing orgasm from you.

"Shit, darlin'..." Cooper moaned, breaking his lips from around your scent gland, rutting and grinding into you as much as he could, feeling the simmering heat of his own orgasm finally creeping near that precipice. "Squeezin' me so fuckin' good..."

He leaned back, grabbing your hips in his hands and pulling you against him, staring down at your sweaty and flushed face as your eyes rolled back, your hands clawing desperately at the mattress and ratty blankets beneath you, weakly lifting your hips to try to get him to keep moving.

"Needy little... fuckin'..." Cooper panted, feeling how hard your hot pussy was clenching around his knot. It felt like he was burning up from the inside out, like his blood was boiling inside his veins as his orgasm roiled and crashed through him; hips jerking against yours as his cock twitched, emptying every drop of cum he could fill you with into your waiting and desperate womb.

He ground his teeth as his eyes rolled back and he let the last bits of his climax ebb away.

Cooper let out a long, slow breath, poking down to where your bodies were locked together. Damn, that felt good. It was the best feeling he'd felt in... shit, a very long time. He sighed and pressed his hand down low on your belly, just barely able to feel the outline of himself through your soft skin, muscles and fat.

His gaze slowly slid up your sweaty and twitching body, to the fresh mark he'd left in your throat, and finally to your blissed-out, satisfied face. He knew this state for you was only temporary; once his knot went down, you would be climbing back on top of him for more, wanting to be fucked and bred again and again, despite the face he was 100% positive in the fact that ghouls didn't work like that anymore... But nonetheless you'd be wanting your Alpha to mark you and fuck you again and again until your heat passed you by.

He narrowed his eyes at his own line of thinking. He... wasn't really "your" Alpha now, was he? You were partners, and well, now...

Ah. Shit...

"You alive, darlin'?" Cooper chuckled, pushing aside his line of thinking, to try and focus on the moment instead of his stupid what-ifs.

"Mhmmm..." You answered with a purr, arching you back and stretching, wrapping your legs around his waist once again, opening your stormy eyes to peer up at him, your tongue swiping out at your bottom lip.

"Shit... Give me some time to pull out, you needy little bitch." He chastised with another soft laugh, reaching out to tweak your nipple in reprimand.

Cooper leaned over you, pressing his thumb over your clit, earning a soft whine from you.

"You're gonna be a good girl for me, ain't'cha, babydoll?" He sighed, looking as your face twisted in pleasured agony while he pinched and rolled your clit, feeling how your cunt fluttered around his cock. "C'mon... Answer your Alpha, sweetheart..."

Your eyelids dragged lazily open and you nod, almost jerking your head up and down as a small bit of drool pools at the corner of your swollen lips. "Yes, yes, yes... I'll be a good girl."

Cooper grinned wider, almost predatory in appearance, still tasting you on the tip of his tongue.

"Thaaaaat's right... Now... just lay back and let me take care of ya, babydoll. And once we're done, you 'n I are gonna have a long talk..."

#Cooper Howard #Cooper Howard x Reader #Cooper Howard x you #The ghoul #The ghoul x you #The ghoul x Reader #Omegaverse AU #Omegaverse #Fallout #Fallout on prime #Fallout prime #fallout tv show

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