#Where is Your Wandering Mother Tonight?

[starcrossedxwriter]

Still Standing Part 1 (Smoke x Black Reader)

Warnings: attempted assault, depictions of violence

A/N: idk how this became two parts yall 😭 I need self control. But this is just everything I love about Smoke in one fic lol enjoy!

***

With enough focus, Smoke could filter out every distraction except his target. And tonight? His target was you. His wife. Who had no business in a place like this by yourself. He made a note to chastise you about that after you cussed him out for his near decade disappearing act. He braced himself for that the entire train ride.

Eight years.

And now analyzing you from a distance, his body felt every painstaking moment of every single moment without you.

He supposed if you were going to be tending bar anywhere, it was safest at your Aunt Hattie’s, where he would have trusted your brothers to maintain a watchful eye. Though, at the moment, their eyes were doing more wandering than watching.

You could handle your own, you always could. He just wished every problem was not always on you. His eyes followed your movements as you charmed every patron with a smile that held all the warmth of the Delta. You continued to be the town’s favorite amongst the Williams family. Your wit, your charm, your grandmama’s healing gifts were traits every person in the town gravitated toward, shielding you from the troubles your brothers got into.

Grace shared that you still worked out of the house he built for you, off the beaten path. How you spent most of your time taking care of everyone in town without slowing down or caring for yourself. He imagined that was why you were even here now. Eight years ago, you barely liked to step foot into Hatties unless you could hold onto him. But now, you worked the bar as if you’d done it your entire life.

That dazzling smile that made him fight for every sunrise to get back to you, the gentle and sensual sway of your hips that made him want to grab hold of your ass and hold you against him, your sweet giggle that somehow rose above the jazz melody straight to his ear. A sound that had long started to fade in his mind. But now, it felt like the first stroke of warmth against his heart since he last saw you.

Mere moments back in you proximity caused all his safeguards to crumble into pure ash. The true extent of his everlasting love for you filled his being, a rush of everything he pushed deeply inside to survive in Chicago. He felt the burning flame in his heart he forced himself to reduce to a simmer, the rushing waterfall he slowed with a fortified dam.

Mere moments back in you proximity caused all his safeguards to crumble into pure ash. The true extent of his everlasting love for you filled his being, a rush of everything he pushed deeply inside to survive in Chicago. He felt the burning flame in his heart he forced himself to reduce to a simmer, the rushing waterfall he slowed with a fortified dam.

“Just go n talk to her, nigga. Know you want to. Sulkin’ over here like you scared or some shit,” Stack muttered, both their hats dipped low enough to further obscure their identity and presence.

“Ain’t never been scared,” Smoke muttered back. Which was a half truth. He had been scared in his life, but it was too long ago to remember.

His inability to approach you yet had little to do with fear. He knew there would be anger, resentment. And it would be righteous. He would accept his licks like a man, apologize for abandoning you as he did, do whatever it took to earn your trust again.

But what you two shared? He had to believe there would be forgiveness once you said your piece. A belief only solidified by the ring dangling from your neck as you leaned over. His mother’s ring.

More than anything, he wanted to simply watch you. See if the you that danced through his dreams every single night was still… you.

His hand twitched toward his revolver more than once as niggas’ hands touched your body, even just to shove a few coins into your hands or shift around you. He was always ready to move but he found that he did not need to. You artfully dodged touches that lingered beyond acceptability, letting the men who vied for your attention down with the perfect balance of kindness and finality.

He was surprised at how long he and Stack were able to go unnoticed in the dim corner. The few who recognized them kept it to themselves, giving the twins a wide berth. The poor lighting provided the perfect cover. He could study you and you did not seem to know he was there. But you were always the perceptive sort, could always sense his presence somehow. So he was not shocked that, every once in a while, he noticed your eyes lingering amongst the crowd as if you were searching for someone but could not find them.

Occasionally, your honey smooth voice caught his ear again, healing some of the wounds he gained while away. All the intricacies and oddities he fell in love with at 14. seeing you brought it all rushing back into sharper focus.

He still remembered the moment he realized he was in love with you. Decades ago but it was as fresh as if it were yesterday in his mind.

Stack’s body had been a heavy weight to support all the way to Mama Mabel’s. But his father had done a number on him and the little bit of ointment and bandages he had left wouldn’t cut it this time. And it was far faster to take him to her than run there and back. And… it got them away from him.

So he walked a mile with his arm around Stack’s back, heaving his weight along as his feet tried to maintain his own weight.

“I can walk, Elijah.”

Smoke did not let go of his hold, knowing his brother just didn’t want anyone to see him like this.

He glanced up at Mama Mabel’s porch, unsurprised to find Miss Evie sweeping. She only looked at them once, noting the panicked look on his face, before immediately discarding her task.

“Mama! Twins here.” She called over her shoulder before rushing out of the shade to help him the last few feet. “Let me help you, boy.”

“I got em.”

“Yo pa?”

“Passed out. Drank so much, he won’t wake up till tomorrow.” His voice was matter of fact, no emotion. He didn’t know if he even had any left these days. “Worst day so far.”

She nodded, grabbing Stack’s other arm, though Elijah was reluctant to yield any of his weight to her.

He had him. He always did.

She helped Elias lay down on the cot in Mama Mabel’s shop, the sharp smells of her brews hitting his nose. He looked down at his brother, his usual slick smile diminished, his thin body bruised and bloodied from their father’s blows.

“Ran outta what I gave you already?” Mama Mabel emerged from her back room. However, when she took in Elias’ state, she simply bowed her head, cursing under her breath. She threw the damp towel in her hand to her daughter who took charge of dapping the sweat from the walk off his brow.

“Some men don’t deserve the blessin’ of life. Ole drunk,” Miss Evie muttered to her mother in irritation, quiet enough that Elijah shouldn’t have heard them. But he did.

“Hush now, girl. Sayin’ that in front of them.”

But it wasn’t something he didn’t think about every single day himself when he laid down at night.

“Yall gon’ stay here tonight.”

Elijah immediately shook his head. “We don’t wanna be no burden. Just didn’t have enough to bandage him up.”

“Well I’ll bandage him up n you’ll stay the night.”

He opened his mouth to argue but corrected himself. He knew arguing with Mama Mabel was futile.

He leaned against the wall in the corner, his body relaxing ever so slightly with every cut and bruise she tended to with such care. Some minute part of him envied receiving that, the healing touch of a mother. He did not know what that felt like anymore, what it felt like to be cared for. He supposed he would never know either.

The only thing guaranteed in life was suffering and the end. He didn’t expect much else.

“Go out there for me n see what’s takin’ that gal so long. Head always in the damn clouds when I need her workin’,” She called over to the teen watching her every move with precision.

He glanced out the open back window, a young woman kneeling in the soul of their garden with a woven basket by her side. The wind swayed the plaits falling down her back as she faced away from the house. Y/N kneeling in front of her garden with a basket.

He glanced back at Elias before she waved him along.

“He safe with us. Promise. Helpin’ Y/N will help me help him.”

And with that, he trudged out the back door and toward the garden where you sat.

Your voice reached him first, the soft humming you used to occupy yourself in the peace of your garden. It was soft, like a sweet melody. He liked it. So he did not interrupt at first, he just stood a few feet behind you, watching.

Your humming ceased as you sensed the silent presence of another. “I know, Granny. Movin’ too slow, I’m comin’” You turned, dusting off your knees. “Oh. E-Elijah. S-sorry, thought you were my...”

Your words fell off awkwardly as you teetered on your heels. His face twisted up in surprise. No one could truly tell them apart unless they were side by side. When they were separate, it always took a few minutes for someone to know who was who.

“Elias stay showin those teeth of his, always talkin. He easy to spot. Everythin’ alright? You ok?”

“Mama Mabel asked me to come check on you. See what’s takin’ so long.”

His eyes focused on your near empty basket, you shyly grinned, your eyes glancing at him with a childlike guilt in them.

“I was doin’ it. Promise. But I noticed some weeds n… Granny say I spend too much time tendin’ to the garden when I should be pickin’. Head always in the clouds. But I told her, “ain’t that where all the spirits and ancestors you teachin’ me bout are?’ Mama popped me in the mouth for that one.”

His lips curled into a rare half smile, which made your smile grow even brighter.

Shit.

Your smile felt like pure exhilaration. He considered it to be the most beautiful thing he had laid eyes on and there was God-given beauty all across the Delta. But it all paled in comparison to your sweet smile that held the warmth of the Sun.

“So you do smile… never thought I’d see the day. You should do it more,” you offered, your voice quieter as if the thought was more for yourself than him. Umm yea, tell her I’ll pick it up. Be in soon.”

He glanced around before rolling up his sleeves and dropping to his knees to help her.

“Oh you ain’t gotta-“

“I know. But then you can tend to your garden n I can pick for you. Mama Mabel won’t know the difference.”

Your smile became softer as if you were not used to help. But he knew the young people in any house were the help, there was no rest for able bodies.

“Thank you, Elijah.”

You quietly hummed This Little Light of Mine as you two worked, you taking care of the roots and soil while Elijah picked what you directed.

“How you doin?”

“Elias needed Mama.”

“Didn’t ask about Elias… know yo daddy, know how he doin if you brought him here. I asked about you.”

Elijah found that he still did not know how to answer that. So he lamely just answered, “Well, he ain’t hit me.”

“Don’t mean he ain’t hurtin’ you. Makin’ you watch it. Don’t mean you ain’t wounded or hurt just cause he the one in there. Hearts hurt just like a black eye. Just can’t see it n it don’t heal as fast.”

His movements stilled, your words an emotional gut punch he had not expected while gardening. He tried not to think about it, when their father hit them. The emotional agony it caused to watch Elias be subjected to the brunt of their father’s drunken rage. Some was due to his smart mouth, though it still never seemed to warrant the vitriol his father directed toward Elias. But Elijah knew that his father also recognized one unfortunate truth. Punches had no effect on Elijah. He offered no reaction, no anything. But hurting his brother did. So Elias often bore the brunt of their punishments.

And he hated his father for it.

“I have somethin’ that’ll help?”

“Don’t know if anythin’ help except…”

Your mother’s words cycled through his mind, a sentiment he felt more often than not when his father hit them. To just end his sorry existence so they could be free of him.

“Try. For me?” You asked, sweetly. “You gave me a smile… can’t give me one more thing?”

I want to give you the world, a small voice whispered in his head. An uncomfortable warmth spread in his chest and his stomach that had nothing to do with the sweltering Delta heat.

“Besides, can’t make you feel worse if it don’t work.”

Your eyes remained on his, inviting him to break a few rules with you, as your feet moved backward toward your family’s live oak tree in the distance. He didn’t immediately follow, torn between his intrigue with this perfect angel who captivated his being with one smile and his desire to stay close to his brother.

“Don’t worry. We ain’t goin’ far. Somethin’ happens, we can still hear them callin. Trust me, Elijah.”

His name on your lips sounded like every beautiful thing, the river bank by their shack, the sunrise on a new day, the calm of a rain storm sweeping the horizon. He’d pray for every sunrise to hear you say his name again.

And with that, you took off running toward the giant tree off in the distance. And he immediately took off after you, abandoning his task of helping you pick herbs faster.

Your running turned into a race as he caught up to you in seconds. Your laughter blended with the wind whipping past his ears, the sweetest melody he had ever heard. He only felt this relaxed, this free when he and Stack ran to the river to escape their father. Just pure exhilaration and freedom for a brief moment.

It had always been the rarest, fleeting air. One he thought he could only feel with his brother, his other half. But he could feel it here with you.

You both needed a moment to catch your breath once you were under the cool shade of your family tree, generations buried in the soul surrounding it.

“Granny brings me out here. Says healers need a place to heal themselves, release the pain we confront every day. Started makin’ me come out here when she started trainin’ me. It’s a good spot to feel it all.”

He glanced around. “What do you do?”

You shrugged as your body leaned against one of the low sweeping branches. “Whatever you wanna do. Cry, scream, just sit. Whatever feels like what you need. Whatever fills your spirit so you can take care of him n yourself tomorrow.”

You slid down onto the soft soil, your skirt billowing out into the grass, closed your eyes. He did not know if he believed this would accomplish anything but he also didn’t want to walk away. Not from you.

He plopped down unceremoniously next to you, both your backs pressed against the tree.

He remembered just sitting there, staring at your house in the distance. He didn’t even realize how you both unconsciously shifted closer and closer to each other until your small shoulder brushed against his.

He watched you mutter prayers under your breath, caught his and his brother’s names in your prayer for safety and protection. Then quiet. Stillness.

You slouched a bit so you could rest your head on his shoulder.

His entire body tensed beneath you. Not from fear but something else he couldn’t recognize. Like the action stole his breath away. The tenderness you offered was so unlike all he knew, all he remembered in his life. The last woman to hold him tenderly died shortly after giving birth to them. And then touch became a danger to combat, not a comfort to lean into.

You seemed to not even realize what you’d done, immediately popping up, a guilty look on your face.

“Sorry. Touch is… important to me. But I should know it ain’t for everybody.”

“Nah nah… it was… fine,” he offered lamely. “My shoulder’s all yours if you need it. Want it.”

You grinned, resting your head back where it was. Something in him settled again with your weight against him.

“A smile and your shoulder? I think that means we friends now.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “Ain’t too good at friends.”

“I gotta feelin’ you’d be good to me.”

His head rested on yours and you just sat, in utter silence. Elijah sniffled as he felt a tear fall as he sat. He tried to lift his arm to whisk it away discreetly but you rested a hand on his arm.

“Nobody gon see you out here. N no one will hear it from me. Rest, Elijah. Let em fall if you need it. I’m here.”

And there, under the weighing branches of your tree, he rested. He allowed himself to feel all the pain he bottled up day after day to survive in their corner of the world, to survive in his own home.

It hit him in peaks and every time he felt himself wanting to clam up, close himself off again, you just grabbed his hand. And when he heard your sniffles, saw your tears, he just returned the favor.

He didn’t know how much time passed, he found that with you, he didn’t care about the time. And you only moved when you both heard your mama calling for dinner.

You both sighed, a sadness at the end of your quiet moment feeling like more of a sharp pain than anything else. He didn’t want this to end. But he needed to check on Elias.

“Granny’s gon’ kill me,” you muttered as you scooped up the only half filled basket Elijah discarded once you were back in the yard.

And while she didn’t kill you, thankfully in Elijah’s opinion, she did cuss you seven times to Sunday for wasting an afternoon and taking your time when there was work to do. And after dinner, instead of getting to go to sleep, you were tasked with cleaning up her shop and restocking her brews when she finished them - whatever time that would be. Since “you already rested enough for the day.”

You were quiet the rest of the day, forlorn and despondent through dinner, so you didn’t say much to him as night fell and everyone in the house prepared to rest.

Everyone except you two.

When your grandma finally went to sleep herself, leaving you to your task that would take the rest of the night, Elijah finally came inside from the porch. Your back was to the door but you sensed him yet again, how your hand stilled over the giant pot of whatever your grandmother brewed.

“Sorry. Don’t mean to get you in trouble, takin’ care of me.”

You shook your head and abandoned your task to close the space between them. Peace. It disappeared when they left their spot under the tree. But he felt it when you were close.

“Don’t. Knew what trouble I was bringing myself when I did it. But if it helped you, it was worth it.” She paused, chewing her lip as she timidly asked. “Did it? Help?”

He found himself nodding. “It did. You got a gift, Y/N.”

“Good. Then one night of lost sleep ain’t a thing. Now you go to sleep, brought that out for you.” She pointed toward a small cot and pillow situated beside his brothers. “I’ll keep an eye on em.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

He slid into bed as he tried to quiet the litany of confusing thoughts racing through his head. He had never felt this way before. But when he should be worried about his slumbering brother or determine how to free them from their father, there was only one thing at the center of the tornado in his head.

You.

“I’ll be good to you, Y/N. A good friend to you, I promise.”

The words were so quiet, he was not confident you heard him. But then he heard the faintest sniffle, saw hastily turn to wipe away a falling tear before turning back to him with a smile that said more than words ever could.

“And I’ll be good to you, Elijah. I promise. Get some sleep.”

He chuckled, turning over so he wouldn’t get distracted by examining you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

But even as he buried himself in his pillow on his cot, one that smelled so perfectly of you, he knew that he didn’t want to be your friend. He wanted to be so much more.

His love sick walk down memory lane ended as swiftly as it sparked when he noticed a man lingering at the bar chatting with you, even after finishing his drink.

He tilted his head slightly toward Stack. His brother never forgot a face.

“You don’t remember that nigga? Red. Grew up down the road, Ms. Sally took him in after his mama died. Daddy probably dead now too. Damn drunk. Ran off Nawlins the first chance he got. You know half the niggas in town had a thing for Y/N."

Smoke studied the terrain, realizing that he could not shoot this man across a crowded barn, though that was the simplest option. But he always knew that patience and opportunity were the key to strike. Never too early, never too late. Besides, Red knew exactly whose you were. And only a man desperate to meet their maker would touch what belonged to Smoke Moore.

Stack let out a deadly chuckle as Red grabbed your hand unexpectedly, your face twisting up in shock for the briefest second before you smiled and discreetly tore your hand from his grasp.

“You gon’ take care of that?” Stack asked, gesturing toward you.

Smoke let his discreet loading of his revolver answer that question for him. The man clearly had a death wish. Smoke was more than happy to ensure it came true.

“Shame. Liked that Red. Never knew what was good for him tho,” Stack mumbled.

He continued to watch, waiting for his moment to strike, to remind everyone in the room who Smoke Moore was when you yelled something over your shoulder in your aunt’s direction and stepped from behind the bar.

You still didn’t see him, even as you navigated the sweaty, teeming dance floor to reach the back storage room. Smoke did not even try to hide in the shadows this time, you were just that preoccupied with your own thoughts. So preoccupied he realized that you didn’t notice how Red waited long enough to drink his shot before following after you.

Smoke knew what that meant. What that always meant. Smoke was not even the jealous twin. But Red made a choice. To make you visibly uncomfortable. To pursue his woman in front of half the town. He toyed, briefly, with the idea that you and Red were… more. And that this was simply part of that. But then he realized that he did not particularly care. Whether or not this was your choice was fairly irrelevant to him.

If this man was courting you, he’d kill him.

If this man was trying to cause you harm, he’d kill him.

Mercy was your tool… but it had never been his. he had considered just shooting Red in the hand to prove a point originally. However, now? The die had been cast.

He had a reminder to issue: whatever happened while he was gone was over. He was back and no one would touch what belonged to him and live to tell the tale.

He cocked his gun before moving in your direction. He had been gone too long and people had clearly forgotten who the fuck he was.

Judge.

Jury.

But most importantly… Executioner.

***

“Come on, sweetness. Gimme a smile.”

“Done smillin’ for you, Red. Get on so I can get a payin’ customer up here.”

You had grown weary from Red’s tired advances long ago. He tried, week after week, coming to your home with ailments and aches just so you would patch him up. Since his wife ran off with another man a few years back, you tried to be there for him. After all, you were, unfortunately, the town’s expert on disappearing spouses. You understood the depths of his grief, to lose the person you loved because their spirit demanded something else of them. Whether for love, greed, power, or something more righteous. The one left behind was left broken and alone all the same.

But Red mistook your kindness for affection. And sadness, desperation, and liquor were an unfortunate combination. The more he drank, the more relentless he became. Hattie helped remind some folks whose last name you carried but some… like Red were often too drunk to listen or care.

And on Saturdays at Hattie’s, he was his drunkest.

“But I’m your favorite customer, ain’t I, Y/N?”

You ain’t

“It’s bad for business to have favorites,” you offered with an awkward smile.

“Get me another,” he demanded.

You knew it would be a long night if you were already about to pour his fifth glass. He already smelled like someone swapped his blood out with a bottle of what you were pouring.

“N while you at it, tell me, why aint you spoken for?”

You used your apron to quickly dab the beads of sweat off your forehead before you grabbed a glass.

“You know damn well I’m spoken for, Red.”

He threw his head back in exuberant laughter.

You knew one person who would not find it as hilarious. Your husband. Wherever in the world he might be right now.

Elijah “Smoke” Moore.

Though only you and his brother knew him as Elijah. Everyone else? Smoke. And his chilling reputation far out lasted his presence in their small town. Seven years later and most still get a bit more jumpy when someone mentions the twins.

While you never agreed with his way, you could not deny it served you well. For the most part, no one caused you trouble. Why would anyone want to be on your list of grievances should Smoke ever come back into town?

You always prayed he would return but you knew it was foolish to hope for it. You whispered his name along the evening breeze in your nightly prayers, merely hopeful for that moment that your comfort reached him in his corner of the world.

While you were not waiting on his return, you also had not “moved on.” You tried, Lord knows you tried. You thought it would heal you, satisfy you to be close to someone again. But the high it gave you was impermanent. It vanished from your grasp like literal smoke.

Because of Smoke.

It was a crushing discovery to realize that the itch you needed to scratch would never be satiated by anyone else.

Your need was to be healed. And only one person could do that. Because Smoke was the first man in your life who tended to you first and foremost.

You spent your days since childhood caring for everyone else. It was your calling and you were grateful to the ancestors for it. But it left no time for you. But in Smoke’s arms? He cared for you, allowed you to feel all the pain and pleasure of the world, allowed you to fall apart and be vulnerable. His touch methodically healed the aches, pains, and sufferings that no one else saw.

And that’s what you desired, craved in the loneliness of the night. Not a warm body or a tryst in Red’s barn. Not fucking that was over before it began for you. You yearned for the other half of your heart. To be tended to and loved on. And the man who had your heart was hundreds of miles away. So you grieved that part of your life. If it could not be that, if it couldn’t be him… it was not worth giving more of your spirit.

And you made peace with what was lost when he left. You were heavy hearted, broken, but you found it difficult to even conjure up rage toward him after a few days. Because you understood that he would never choose you and the quiet life you desired over him.

You knew Elijah loved you with everything. That was never in question. But if you were half of his heart, Stack was the other half of his soul. One could not survive, not fully, without the other. And Stack needed more than their town could offer. And Smoke needed Stack.

Despite your fear that you’d laid eyes on him for the last time, you made no effort to share that with your neighbors or stop being Smoke’s woman. A woman without a man was one without protection, you knew that much. So you relied on whatever kept you safe: your prayers and his threats. You counted both as help, both as a blessing.

“By who? One of them crazy Moore twins? Haven’t seen that nigga or the other one twin here no where to speak for nobody. Seems like you free to do what you want. You could give me a dance, sweetness.”

His hand grasped yours as you pushed the glass his way. His grip was firm so it took you a moment before you could rip your hand out of his embrace.

“Well I ain’t seen him round neither but I’m still spoken for. If you knew what was good for you, you’ll take that drink ’n get the hell on, Red,” you warned, your voice losing some of its sweetness.

“Need a couple more bottles, Y/N.”

You didn’t need to turn around to recognize the sharp voice of your aunt, Hattie Mae.

Your grandfather opened this joint twenty years ago and it was still standing. "Weathered and worn but still standing," he'd say. Your aunt took over when he died and you started helping her a few months ago after she hurt herself. Your brothers were useless at the bar and Hattie said it helps to have a pretty face serving up the drinks. So you helped out where you could on the weekends. You always found Hattie’s to be overwhelming, preferring to stay glued to Smoke’s arm when you went together. But you found peace behind the bar, being able to watch the hustle and bustle from afar. The extra money did not hurt.

You’d typically demand one of your brothers carry the heavy bottles for your aunt but you’d welcome any excuse to escape Red’s leering eye.

“I got it, Auntie Mae.”

You used the walk to dry your hands, both were sweaty and clammy from the heat of the Delta mixed with all the bodies and dancing.

You pushed through your exhaustion, the aches and pains in your limbs more pronounced without the distractions of people and music. You had been feeling it more lately as you leaned for a moment against a shelf. You were just like this joint. Weathered and worn. Sadder than you once were. But you were still standing too. Was there any other choice?

You balanced four bottles in your arms before determining that it was your limit. However, you almost dropped every last one of them when you turned to find Red waiting in the door frame.

“God almighty, Red! You scared me! You gon’ stand there blockin’ the door or let me get these back out to Hattie?”

He was as immobile as a tree as you tried to go around him. He did not answer you or speak, the silence putting you on edge. You loved a man like that, whose silence was a weapon, his greatest tool. You gravitated toward his silence.

But Red was not him. His silence unsettled you, forced your eyes to search for a path that would lead you away from him.

“Red. This ain’t funny. Get outta my way. You know how Hattie gets. I gotta get back to the bar.”

“Lord knows I’ve been thinkin’ bout you ever since my wife left.”

You typically didn’t feel fear. There was no need with generations of ancestors watching over you. But as his hand closed the door and the screech of the latch hit your ear. You felt it like a tiny seed sprouting in your belly.

Fear.

You immediately retreated as he advanced.

“I’m married, Red. You too. ’N you drunk as a skunk. Now let me outta here.”

“My wife gone, your husband been gone. Dead in a ditch somewhere knowin’ that nigga. You got the entire town ‘fraid to dance withchu cause of him? But see… I ain’t afraid of no dead man, Y/N. Aint scared of no ghost story. Don’t act like you don’t want me too, sweetheart.”

“Red… I d-don’t want you o-or anyone. We can forget about this tomorrow, just let me go.”

“After I waited years for this? Nahhh, baby. Ain’t ever lettin’ you go now. You’re mine. Helpin’ me night after night. Checkin’ on me after that bitch ran off. You’re the light of my days, sweetheart.”

This could only be described as irony in its cruelest form. A forced reflection on your own naiveté, you supposed. You remembered something you said to your husband once, early in your courtship, when he asked you why you never called him Smoke.

“Because everyone else needs you to be Smoke. Here I… just want you to be Elijah.”

And he bowed his head, shaking it as his hand gripped the meat of your thigh.

“You need Smoke too, baby. No one is ever gon’ hurt my family. I’m here to protect you. You need him. Everybody do.”

Elijah had always been… heavy. Weighed down by all the things he had done, from such a young age, to protect the people he loved. And as much as you adored being loved by him, you did not want to be another person who burdened his soul with more. More suffering, more pain. His life was in service of keeping everyone else safe. And he cared nothing of the cost to his soul to do so. But you cared because you knew it would only get heavier.

“Stack need Smoke. The fools you run with need Smoke. Hell, this town might even need Smoke. But me? I don’t need Smoke. I need Elijah, the boy who picked herbs for me. The one who holds me close to his chest durin’ storms. Smoke is… He ain’t the Elijah I know.”

But as your back pressed against the rough wood panels, Red’s body boxing you in, you realized, for the first time, you needed Smoke.

Not the threat of him.

Him. And all his silent fury.

And every bit of trouble that came along with him to get out of this.

“R-Red, I was just tryin’ to help. Just tryin’-”

He grabbed your chin roughly, the shock causing every bottle in your arms to crash down at your feet. The sharp scent of liquor swarmed you both like a cloud as the liquid seeped into your shoes and splattered along the bottom of your dress.

His other hand gripped your wrist as he kissed you roughly.

“S-Stop! R-Red.”

“I bet you just need a good fuckin’. Been years since that sorry nigga left, left this good pussy. Nigga should’ve known better than to leave a sweet pussy like this unclaimed. Think it’s my turn now. Bet I can fuck you bett-”

Your eardrums could have exploded from the cacophony of pure noise cutting of Red’s drunken ranting.

Your head spun as you tried to locate the sudden shrill scream filling the tiny storage room. You did not even realize Red was no longer pressing his weight against you until you saw him clutching his knee, on the floor as crimson blood slid down his leg.

You clutched your chest for a moment, your heart pounding loudly in your ears, your eyes trained on Red’s writhing frame in a giant puddle of moonshine. Your brain felt sluggish and slow, several steps behind whatever just happened. You forced your eyes away from Red to understand. Did you need to protect yourself? Was the threat to you too? Who even shot him? That was one answer your vision could find immediately. However, your survey ended within a millisecond, your eyes landing on him.

“Smoke.” A grateful sob of relief escaped as your body sagged into the wall.

His eyes softened at the sound of your voice, the mixture of fear, panic, gratitude, and pure love.

“Y/N. Y/N!” His voice snapped you out of the chaos of the last few minutes.

He focused you. A light in dense fog.

His voice softened once your eyes flickered to his.

“You good, baby. We got you. Step over here to Stack.”

Another version of him stepped from around the corner. He pulled his hat off his head and tipped it toward you, a deadly smirk painted on his lips.

Stack.

Your brain sought to obey him, to listen to the man you loved. But your legs did not feel strong enough to move, strong enough to carry you the few steps across the room to him and Stack.

How did this happen?

How were they even here?

Why were they here?

So you simply stared at him, not fully believing they were real. Your eyes clouded with everything flooding you that demanded to be made sense of before you could move forward. There was no calm in this, leaving you paralyzed.

“Nigga just shook her up. He ain’t goin’ no where. Give her a second.”

“We ain’t got a second.” Smoke turned his attention back to you. “Y/N. Darlin’. I need you to move.”

A command. The softness in his tone disappeared as he snapped you out of your stupor. Your feet moved instinctively, scurrying around Red to reach Stack. You felt Smoke’s hand brush your hip as you got behind him. The touch simply communicated what your body and soul instinctively knew: you were safe.

Stack put a protective arm around your waist as soon as you were in his reach.

“She good, Smoke.”

“Take her. Wait outside.”

You pushed against Stack’s arm trying to drag you along as his words settled in your brain. While you were grateful Red was unable to carry out whatever plot his drunk mind concocted, you did not want him murdered for it.

In fact, you considered being shot in the kneecap a satisfactory punishment for what Red attempted, what he would not even likely remember doing in the morning. He learned his lesson and now would live with a limp for the rest of his life to show for it. Wasn’t that enough?

“W-wait, wait, wait, Smoke. He got your point. I’m okay. Let him go.”

But even as you spoke those words, you knew they did not shift his position. The murderous glimmer in his eye, his coldness, reminded you while Elijah softened for you, Smoke was not a man who bent nor one who could be softened. His decision was cast and Red’s death was as certain as sunrise the next morning. But you would not be you if you did not try. Would not be the woman he loved if you did not ask him to try something different.

You tried to push Stack’s arm off you to go to Smoke’s side but he refused to loosen his grip.

“Smoke, h-he’s just a lonely ole drunk. You gave em a limp. That's enough."

Stack chuckled. "Niggas get a limp for stealin'. This shit tho? Puttin' his hands on you?" he shook his head. "Every nigga in here know what that means."

"But it ain’t worth it. He ain't worth it. Trust me, he's just drunk... harmless. He won't bother me again."

“I am! Harmless, Smoke. You know I ain’t mean nothin’ by it. I'll leave the bitch alone for good, I swear 'fore God.”

Stack's head fell back as his barking laugh ricocheted around the room. Smoke still had not said a single word. Just fired his warning shot.

“I told you that nigga ain’t know what was good for him, Smoke. Let’s go, Y/N.”

His arm tightened around your waist to drag you out the door, clearly tired of the man’s pleas which were only serving to make his end more painful.

“Let me go, Stack!”

“So he can shoot me too? Nah girl. Unlike this nigga, I like bein’ able to fuckin' walk. Can't be a pimp like me with no a damn limp. This grown men’s business now n I know you don’t wanna see this shit. Let’s go.”

You glared at him, raising an eyebrow in a challenge, still refusing to make this easy on him.

Stack glanced at his brother for a brief moment, their silent conversation passing before Stack turned back to you.

He leaned over, whispering in your ear, “Ain’t nothin’ you say gon’ change what’s about to happen. He was dead the moment he laid a hand on you. Accept that shit, aight? Ain’t no sense in feelin’ guilty bout it either. Ain’t the first man he threw to bottom of the Mississippi for you, won’t be the last. Now come on. If it’ll help, saw some flowers on the way in. You can pick some for his homegoing’,” he offered the last bit sarcastically.

He could never hold a serious moment for long.

But you heard the empathy hiding in his harshness. A reminder that as crazy as he was, Stack still understood you and he understood Smoke, and the chasm that sometimes existed when you were confronted with the violence they perpetuated. Particularly in your name.

You spent your life attempting to mend what violence broke, what it destroyed, what often felt like inevitabilities. But you could not stop this. And he knew that as soon as he glanced at his brother. And in your heart, he knew you knew it too. And like his brother, he was trying to protect you, in his own slick talking way, absolve you from the guilt he already knew was rushing to your shores.

That was the Elias you grew up with. And as much as you two bickered like true siblings, you knew there was nothing Stack would not do for you because you loved his brother and his brother loved you.

Your eyes settled on Smoke’s profile, his eyes trained on the invisible line connecting the barrel of his gun to the space between Red’s eyes. He tore them away for one moment to look at you. Your eyes communicated a fear you’d never admit in front of Stack. You accepted Red’s fate but there was another fear, one that made it impossible to stop resisting Stack’s force.

“I’m right behind you, darlin’. I promise. Get out or he'll drag you out.”

You didn’t speak, a shaky exhale communicating everything you needed him to know. You were grateful that you had not had to ask, that he simply saw what truly ailed you. More than trying to save the life of a man who did not deserve your mercy, you were terrified to let him out of your sight. You feared that if you stepped out of this room, even for a moment, he’d disappear like smoke in the air for another eight years.

Uninterested in being hauled over the shoulder of the second most infamous man in town, you acquiesced to Stack’s firm hand on your waist, allowing him to push you out the door.

“Red, I’d say enjoy your last moments but I know my brother and… I think he gon’ enjoy ‘em a hell of a lot more than you.”

However, before he closed the door, you heard Smoke’s low voice.

“Just so we clear, this me speakin’.”

“N-No, no, no, no! Smo-”

Stack dragged you just far enough away to not to hear what you knew came next.

***

Stay tuned for part two!

A/N: No tags because it was a fight to get this up and I'm exhausted LOL but there is a part two with reader and Smoke's private reunion when they get home. Hope you enjoyed it! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought or if you'd like to be tagged in part 2!

[merlinmylove]

Arthur is cursed into eternal sleep

He is not waking up, and everyone is lost for answers on how to save their King.

Except no one knows Arthur is wandering around as a spirit, or a ghost, perhaps his soul is outside his body. The usual trope.

He can see and hear everything — but he cannot talk to anyone. He is completely helpless.

One night he sees his uncle enter his rooms with a blade in hand. It’s an ornate dagger carrying the House of Du Bois sigil. He leans over and holds it to his throat.

“Not so powerful now are you, My Lord” He sneers. Arthur feels dread wash over him like cold water down the back of his neck.

His uncle!

His own uncle, his last living relative and direct ties to his mother was about to slit his throat while he slept. Arthur was about to watch his own death and there was nothing he could do.

Agravaine is testing different angles. “How shall it be, huh? Quick and simple? A clean cut?” He paused. “No. My sister died a painful death, her blood spilling out as she lay dying, just so Uther could have an heir. You shall die a similar way.” Agravaine was entirely too pleased as he looked down on his sleeping nephew.

“No one can help you, no one can save you now, not even Emrys”

As the man begins to add pressure on his hand and aims for the neck to cut, Merlin enters from the servants door as if he had been summoned by the Gods.

Arthur has never been more elated and scared at the same time.

Agravaine is frozen in place. Merlin, moving quicker than Arthur has ever seen him move, is by Arthur’s side and holding his hand over Agravaines.

“Ah, Merlin” Lord Agravaine is cheerfully calm, as if he hadn’t just been caught attempting regicide. The blade was still pressing against Arthur’s throat.

“I was just helping my newphew shave. It’s so dreadful to see him like this” He tutted with a condescending tone.

“I shave His Majesty every other day” Merlin’s cold stone voice is like thunder from clear sky.

He grips the knife with his hand, and if the blade cuts into his skin, he shows no sign of it. In fact, Merlin’s face remains impressively blank throughout their silent conversation.

“I think you should leave now.”

Found out and frustrated, Agravaine drops the blade onto Arthur’s chest and moves towards the door. A few droplets of blood splatter against the white linen of his shirt.

Merlin stays still with his eyes focused on Arthur’s breathing chest. Only when the traitor reaches the door does he speak.

“Lord Agravaine” Merlin’s words stop him in his tracks.

“What?” He spits out, no longer able to conceal his true feelings. Disgust and hatred is clear in both in his voice and in his features. The older man turns and stares at the servant.

Arthur fears for both of their lives.

“I wonder what Queen Ygraine would think of your actions here tonight.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“I wonder what your sister would think if she knew that you were having an affair with her husband’s bastard daughter” Merlin elaborated. He looked entirely too comfortable taunting the man.

Arthur tried to move in front of Merlin, to save him from his uncles anger, but Agravaine moved through him as if he was nothing but smoke.

Agravaine reaches for his sword, but Merlin is quicker. “How dare you call her that! I will strike you where you stand”

“But it is true. You claim to love Ygraine, but instead of supporting your sisters son, you betray him for Uther’s bastard child”

Agravaine moves quickly with his sword raised. Merlin stops him with the hidden sword Arthur keeps beside his bed. Only Merlin knows of its existence.

He never knew Merlin was such a skilled swordsman.

Despite his age, Agravaine would easily win a sword fight against Merlin. Arthur tried shouting for help, but no one could hear him in his ghost state.

“I’m not the sort of man you wish to antagonise.” Merlin pointed his sword at his uncles chest. “And you certainly do not wish to make an enemy of me. Just ask Morgana what happened to her sister. Or to Nimhue. Or Cornelius Segan.”

“You think you can kill me?” Agravaine laughed at him and pushed the tip of the sword away.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Who says it will be me? Tell me, my lord. Do you know the name of the servant who dresses you each morning? Could you recognise him in a crowd? Do you even know the name of the cook that makes your food? I do”

Merlin was so calm and collected it was scary. Even Agravaine seemed to be unsettled by his tone.

“I know every knight, servant, and guard in the citadel. I know who dresses you, which servants prepare your wine and who makes your food…and maybe my hand might slip...”

“You threaten to poison me like you did Morgana” He hissed in realisation.

Poisoning Morgana? When on earth had Merlin done that?!

“Maybe. Who’s to say it would be poison. I could kill you any manner I wish. Either way, you’ve overstay your welcome and I must ask you to leave the Kings chambers.”

“I’m the Kings uncle and a high lord of the council, you cannot order me about!” He was sweating with anger now, and his condescension had turned righteous.

“Guards!” Merlin shouted. Half a second later the door opened and four men appeared, swords in hand, ready to defend their King.

Arthur let out a sigh of relief. Finally, Merlin was safe.

“Yes Merlin?” Sir Alfred asked while eying the two men with their swords drawn. It was quite the scene, Arthur admitted.

“Please escort Lord Agravaine out of the Kings chambers. He is not to enter again without my permission.” Merlin lowered his sword and walked back to the bed where Arthur’s still body lay.

Agravaine laughed at this, but quickly realised that he was the only one who saw any humour in it, when two knights strong-armed him. “Unhand me at once! How dare you take the word of a servant over the word of a Lord!” His fighting was easily combated by the expert knights. He had lost.

Sir Alfred looked him in the eyes. “By orders of the King, we are to treat every word from Merlin as if they were his own. If Merlin says you’re no longer welcomed in the Kings chambers, we will act accordingly.”

They dragged the lord out of the room in an undignified way.

Arthur watched as the door clicked shut and Merlin finally showed some emotion. Falling to his knees before Arthur’s bed, he grabbed his hand and kissed it.

Heaving with tears and shock he choked out “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” He kissed his hand again. “I won’t ever let him come near you ever again, I promise.”

Arthur wanted to assure his friend that he knew Merlin would keep him safe, that he trusted him more than anyone else in the world! But no sounds came out of his mouth.

When Merlin got up he began touching Arthur’s chest and throat, seemingly feeling his heartbeat and pulse underneath his fingers. “You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe”

He reaches down and presses a kiss to his forhead mumbling words mostly to calm himself, rather than to address the sleeping man before him. “Arthur is alive. He’s alive”

[prythianpages]

Tonight, the Light of Love is in Your Eyes

Azriel x Rhysand's Sister (reader) | You find yourself in the middle of a political affair, where you seek refuge in a dance with Azriel. And in the spur of the moment, Azriel tells you he loves you for the first time.

warnings: secret love, implied smut (brief mention), you and az being impulsive and risking it all

word count: 1,900

a/n: I used the dialogue of this scene from The Witcher as a prompt for this fic.

“Hybern is still close to Spring. Though they’ve lost the war, it seems their alliance still stands. Bradwell has shown interest in her, it’d be best if she takes his favor tonight. Or even Tamlin’s, they are closer in age.”

Your gaze is fixed forward, but your mind drifts, creeping into the quiet mental conversation between your father and brother. They speak of you, as if your own desires are inconsequential, and it stings more than you let show.

“Why should she? When the High Lord of Autumn, who fought alongside our armies, has six sons and one on the way…”

Breathe in, breathe out. You force the command on yourself, struggling to maintain the composure you’ve perfected over years of courtly life. The mask you wear feels more fragile tonight, your heart threatening to crack the facade. 

You allow your eyes to wander and regret it when you meet the gaze of Bradwell–the eldest son of Spring. He is watching you, green eyes gleaming with a predatory sharpness, his smirk oozing arrogance. As if you’re a prize to be won–a prize already won. The sight of it turns your stomach. 

It’s instinctual almost–the way your eyes gravitate toward Azriel as they always do at the slightest discomfort. He’s been your anchor, your safety blanket for years. He stands just a few steps below you, tall and stoic. 

His hands are clenched into fists, shadows weaving and writhing along his limbs in a frenzy, whispering secrets to him that you ache to hear. His head is turned toward Bradwell and there’s no doubt his gaze is hardened into an icy composure when the eldest of Spring suddenly peels his gaze off of you.  

As you pull your gaze away from the Night Court’s Spymaster, you catch your mother’s eye. She sits beside your father on a much simpler throne. She sends you a sympathetic smile and you cast your gaze down, mask faltering as a blush creeps up your neck.

By the Cauldron, how you wish you could be anywhere but here. You’d much rather be alongside Cassian and Mor, who are most likely indulging in the fine wine and cheeses. The only redeeming part of these insufferable court parties.

“Is it not best to keep our most at-risk enemies close? Spring–”

Your body tenses, each muscle coiling as you listen to the words between your brother and father, their minds still unaware of your presence within them. It’s laughable, almost. Rhysand taught you well. You were a later bloomer when it came to the manifestation of your powers but the daemati power runs strong in you. 

Movement catches your eye. It’s Bradwell. He begins to make his way toward you, one hand already reaching for the sage-green handkerchief embroidered with a golden beast. A token you know he plans to offer. The sight of it makes something in you snap. You can’t take it anymore.

You whip your head around, your heart pounding, and your gaze finds Azriel once more—the only one you want. The only one you’ve ever wanted.

“Azriel, will you dance with me?”

The words escape your lips before you even realize you’ve said them. There’s a brief moment where the world seems to still as Azriel turns to meet your gaze. His eyes widen slightly, shadows pausing briefly in midair–the only sign of emotion he shows. 

But you feel a flutter in your chest.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s danced with you. The two of you have danced plenty of times before. However, it’d be the first time you’d give him your first dance. A notion that seems silly but held to a high esteem in the Court of Nightmares.

You feel your father’s and Rhysand’s gaze also on you–the latter’s eyes narrowing at you. He’s already sensed the lingering presence you left in his mind, and you can feel his talons scratching at the edges of your mental walls. But you hold steady, just as he taught you and push him away.

Azriel keeps his eyes on you yet his shadows peer over his shoulders, the dark tendrils darting back and forth between your brother and father. Cautious and a bit defensive.

It’s your mother who breaks the silence. She had kept her gaze on the dance floor in front of her, that same knowing smile playing on her lips. “It is impolite to keep a lady waiting.”

Azriel nods his head. “Of course.”

He shifts forward–one foot resting on the first step while the other remains on the ground floor. He extends his scarred hand to you, his shadows barely able to contain their excitement, betraying the cool mask he dons.

You smile—truly smile—as you place your hand in his, and together, you walk toward the dance floor. Your heart swells with defiance as you purposefully avert your eyes when passing Bradwell, chin held high. Rhysand’s mental claws scratch harder, desperate to break through your defenses. You continue to shut him out, strengthening the walls of your mind. 

The Cauldron simmers in your favor. As you reach the dance floor, the music shifts to a slower, more romantic melody. Azriel’s hand wraps around yours, his fingers enclosing around your palm while his other hand rests gently at the small of your back. The tension in your body melts under his touch and you find yourself leaning in closer to him, your body always yearning to be with his.

Shadows slither softly around you, hiding within the seams of your black dress like a protective shield. Azriel’s eyebrows furrow and you recognize the brief distant look in his eyes. “Rhys is not happy,” he murmurs. “Your first dance was supposed to be with the eldest son of Spring.”

His jaw clenches and you see the way his shadows curl tighter around him as if to suffocate the jealousy he dares not voice.

“Let him sulk. I get to decide who to dance with, who to be with.”

Azriel was the master of composure. He’s always calm, steady, controlled. But tonight, something in his gaze feels different. There’s something vulnerable there, something pained. He looks away for a moment, as if trying to keep his emotions from manifesting further. 

“I can’t offer you what he can..."

His hand twitches in yours, like he’s about to pull away, but you hold him tighter. “Good,” you respond without hesitation. “I don’t want anything that arrogant ass has to offer.”

Azriel’s eyes snap back to yours, searching, conflicted. He hesitates, as if still grappling with the part of himself that believes he doesn’t deserve this. That you deserve more, much better than him. Someone who can give you the world, not someone who only knows to live in the shadows.

You intertwine your fingers with his, lips curling into a small grin. “Your ass is the only one I want,” you add, your power reaching out to him and gently slipping past his defenses to show him the marvelous view you had of his backside earlier.

And as your thoughts drift to the last night you shared together, where you got to see all of him, Azriel lets out an exhale, his lips mirroring the upwards curl to yours. Taking advantage of the grip you have on his mind, you show him more memories from that night. The way his scarred hands had caressed every inch of your body, his lips following the path his hands made…

 “I can’t give you much,” Azriel’s voice had dropped to a whisper, barely a rasp as he leaned his forehead against yours. His nose brushed with yours, lips hovering right over your own.  “But I can give you everything I have.”

You smiled softly at him, your fingers brushing the side of his face, tracing every line and contour of the male who held your heart. So beautiful, so perfect. 

“That’s all I’ll ever need,” you replied and then closed the small gap between you to kiss him.

The pained look in his hazel eyes melts into something warmer, something sweeter, as he takes in the memories of that night through your eyes. He had never doubted your love, but the weight of his own insecurities—his belief that he was beneath you—constantly gnawed at him.

Every time he touched you in secret, every night you spent hidden away together, he feared that someday you might wake up and realize he wasn’t enough.

But here, dancing with you, the way your eyes held him, he felt that overwhelming doubt ease. To see and feel the depth of your sincerity, as if your very soul called out to his…

“I love you.”

Your heart stilled at the words, your step faltering. In a smooth maneuver, Azriel spins you around, catching you effortlessly before you could stumble. His hands steady you as you face him once more.

 “That’s the first time you’ve said that,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper, though you know Azriel’s shadows are already ensuring no one else can hear your words.

“It can’t be,” Azriel murmurs in disbelief, brows furrowing slightly. 

“You used to think it,” you quietly admit, your gaze dropping for a moment before returning to his. It wasn’t that you had ever meant to pry, but when it was just the two of you, his mind was often at ease, unguarded. Sometimes, his thoughts would be too loud for you to ignore. “But tonight, you finally said it.”

The shadows hidden within the lacey seams of your dress stir and you watch as one of the shadows lingering over Azriel’s shoulders slithers up and curls around his ear. His grip on you tightens and your ears perk up. 

The song is coming to an end and though couples continue to dance and whirl around you, your nose picks up on an approaching scent. Fresh wildflowers and oak—rich and lovely, exuding the essence of Spring. Yet it fills you with dread. You don’t want this moment to end. You’re tired of pretending, of living this life of secrecy.

“Azriel,” you say, one hand reaching out toward his face to turn his attention back to you. A bold move but tonight, you’re ready to be even bolder. “Kiss me.”

His shadows stir, swirling anxiously around him, their whispers warning that too many eyes are upon you both. You can feel his hesitation, the unspoken question in his gaze as he searches your face.

“In front of everyone,” you confirm. Show them I’m yours, you speak into his mind, and only yours.

Azriel pauses, his chest tightening at the implication of your words. He can feel Rhysand’s presence–furious and demanding– trying to slip into his mind. No doubt trying to steer him away from this impulsive display and away from you. 

He feels the weight of the room pressing down on him—the sons of Spring and Autumn watching his every breath.

But all of that falls away when he meets your eyes again. 

There is only you in this moment.

The one who had always been able to see through his walls, the one who made him feel like the most precious thing in the room, the only one he cared about.

“Kiss me,” you whisper again.

And Azriel is not going to let you ask a third time.

Not when the light of love is shining so brightly in your eyes. His hand covers yours on his cheek, and then, he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that silences the room.

Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together.

a/n: It's been awhile since I wrote for Az. Miss this shadow daddy lol. Part 2 is already up 🫶🏽 you can find it here.

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

fic tag: @noisyinfluencerstrawberry

[meadowfics]

aunts and nieces

father!husband!kang dae ho x f!wife!mother!reader

apart of the kang family series

warnings: this chapter has smut!! MDNI! 18+. p in v unprotected. oral (r receiving), just a bunch of love making, daeho being vocal, praise, vulgar dialogue.

tags: @hrh007 , @tcvazq , @casually-simping , @chxrrybomb22, @prettywhenicry4

the house felt strangely quiet without the familiar sounds of tiny feet padding across the floor, the giggles and babbles of your daughters filling every corner.

stillness settled over you like a soft blanket, both comforting and unsettling. you stood by the window, watching as jia buckled seo-ah into her car seat, her practiced hands moving with ease.

byeol, snug in her infant carrier, was already dozing, her tiny hands curled into fists. jia smiled up at you through the glass, her warm, maternal energy radiating even from a distance.

“eomma! we’re going to have so much fun!” seo-ah called out, waving her little hand excitedly.

you forced a smile, waving back from out the window.

“i know, baby. be good for auntie jia, okay?”

“okay!”

you felt dae-ho’s hand slip around your waist, his presence grounding you.

“they’re going to be fine,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

you leaned into him, exhaling the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“i know. it’s just… we’ve never been away from them this long.”

“jia’s got this. she raises min-jun and sooyun like a pro, remember?”

min-jun and sooyun, one of daeho''s many nephews and nieces.

you nodded. jia was incredible, a strong, patient mother who had always made parenthood seem effortless.

you trusted her completely, but the idea of spending an entire weekend away from your babies tugged at your heart.

jia approached the door, knocking softly before stepping inside.

“hey, you two,” she greeted, her warm smile easing some of your nerves.

“hey,” you and dae-ho replied in unison.

jia glanced between you both, noticing the tension lingering in your shoulders.

“they’re going to be fine, unnie. i promise.” she placed a reassuring hand on your arm. “seo-ah is already planning our whole weekend. she’s got me making pancakes tomorrow morning and taking her to the park by my home.”

you chuckled softly.

“that sounds like her.”

“and byeol is so easygoing, a quiet baby. min-jun wasn't like that, she’s been a dream so far.”

you smiled, though your heart still felt heavy.

“thank you again, jia. really.”

she waved it off.

“please, i’m excited. and you two deserve this. a weekend to yourselves.” she arched an eyebrow, smirking.

“go have fun. sleep in. enjoy each other!”

you blushed slightly, while dae-ho chuckled, pulling you closer.

“we’ll try,” he promised.

jia gave you both one more hug before heading back to the car. you watched as she drove off, the car disappearing down the street, leaving an unfamiliar silence behind.

you stood there for a moment, feeling the absence of your daughters like a weight in the room.

dae-ho squeezed your hand.

“so… what do we do now?”

you let out a soft laugh.

“i… have no idea.”

“me neither.”

you both wandered into the living room, where the couch seemed bigger without toys scattered all over it.

you sank into the cushions, leaning against dae-ho’s side as he wrapped an arm around you.

“this is weird,” you murmured, snuggling into him.

“yeah. but kinda nice, right?”

“it is.”

you sat there in silence, the kind that only comes when there’s no rush, no distractions. just the two of you, alone for the first time in what felt like forever.

dae-ho’s fingers traced lazy circles on your arm.

“hey,” he said after a moment.

“hmm?”

“go get ready.”

you tilted your head to look at him.

“for what?”

your husband's lips curled into a soft smile.

“i’m taking you out to dinner tonight.”

you blinked, caught off guard.

“seriously?”

“yeah. an actual date night. just us two without the babies.”

you hesitated. it had been so long since you’d done anything like that, just the two of you.

“are you sure?”

“positive. we deserve this, y/n.” he cupped your cheek, brushing his thumb over your skin.

“go get dressed. we’re going out.”

your heart fluttered at his words, warmth blooming in your chest.

“okay,” you whispered, smiling.

you took your time getting ready, savoring the quiet as you stood in front of the mirror.

you pulled on the prettiest pink dress you own, one that flowed gently over your body, perfect for the warm spring evening.

as you slipped the pink dress over your shoulders, the fabric draped over your body in a way that made you pause. it hugged your curves gently, the skirt flowing down your legs with a familiar ease.

you turned slightly in front of the mirror, your eyes widening as you noticed how the dress fit, snug in the right places, loose where it needed to be, just like it had before you’d ever had kids. it is tight around the bomb area, but that is perfectly okay, that part of your chest has grown naturally with kids.

a soft smile spread across your face as you took it in. for months after having byeol, you hadn’t felt quite like yourself...your body still healing, changing, adjusting.

now, standing here, you saw the first signs of the old you coming back, blending with the woman and mother you had become.

your hands instinctively wrapped around your waist, hugging yourself, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest.

the fabric hugged you in all the right places, the color bringing a softness to your features.

you did your makeup lightly, just enough to feel special, before slipping on your favorite heels that matched with the dress.

when you walked into the living room, dae-ho was already waiting, dressed in a sleek black suit, his hair styled perfectly. he looked up as you entered, his eyes widening, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“wow,” he breathed, standing up.

you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

“you clean up pretty well yourself.”

he chuckled, reaching for your hand and spinning you around gently.

“you look beautiful, baby.”

“thank you,” you murmured, feeling butterflies stir in your stomach, just like the early days of your relationship.

“ready?” he asked, offering his arm.

“ready.”

you both stepped out into the warm evening air, the warm countryside feeling fresh before hitting the train out to the city center of seoul.

it felt surreal...just the two of you with no diaper bags, no car seats, no toys in tow.

this was your night. you planned to enjoy every second of it.

a half an hour later exiting the subway station, a cool spring breeze brushed past you as you and dae-ho climbed the steps, your heels clicking softly against the pavement.

the city lights of seoul shimmered in the distance. however, the familiar sterile smell of the subway station lingered.

for a moment, the weight of past memories pulled at you...the fluorescent lighting, the dull hum of vending machines, the heavy presence of the recruiter who’d handed you that fateful card after playing the stupid ddakji game.

you felt a slight tension in your chest, and as if on cue, dae-ho’s fingers laced through yours, his grip tightening gently.

you turned up and glanced at him, catching the subtle flicker of unease in his eyes. he was thinking about it too.

neither of you spoke about it though.

it was a silent agreement...a pact made without words. tonight wasn’t for those memories. it wasn’t for the darkness that loomed in your past or the haunting remnants of the games.

it wasn’t for worrying about seo-ah and byeol, even though both your hearts ached a little at the thought of them.

tonight was just for the two of you.

“you okay?” dae-ho asked softly, his thumb brushing the back of your hand.

you nodded, giving him a small smile.

“yeah. you?”

“yeah.” he exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing, “let’s have a good night.”

“a great night.”

the unease faded with each step away from the subway, replaced by a warm anticipation as you approached the restaurant. it was a towering glass building, its sleek design and gold accents signaling the kind of luxury that would’ve made you both uncomfortable in the past. however, you do not feel that uncomfortable financial burden anymore.

you and dae-ho had money now...enough to live comfortably, enough to give your daughters everything they needed, and then some. the way that wealth had come to you lingered in the back of your mind like a shadow sometimes. even as you walked into the upscale restaurant, its marble floors gleaming under crystal chandeliers, you couldn’t help but feel a strange disconnect.

“who would’ve thought?” dae-ho murmured as the hostess led you to your table by the window, offering a stunning view of the city skyline.

you chuckled softly, smoothing your dress as you sat down.

“not me.”

“this place is insane,” he added, glancing around at the elegant décor, the soft ambient music and the waitstaff dressed in perfectly pressed uniforms.

you both scanned the menus, leather-bound and heavy in your hands, listing dishes with names you could barely pronounce.

years ago, this would have sent you into a quiet panic, worrying about prices, about fitting in, about not belonging.

tonight, there was a calm acceptance.

“so,” dae-ho began, setting his menu down and folding his hands on the table, “how are you doing? really?”

the question caught you off guard. it wasn’t just small talk...it was genuine, filled with that soft, steady concern he always carried for you.

you paused, considering.

“better,” you admitted. “earlier, when I was getting ready… I put on that pink dress and noticed how it fit.”

your husband tilted his head, his eyes softening. “yeah?”

“yeah. it felt like… I’m finally starting to get my body back after having byeol. I looked in the mirror and for the first time in a while, I felt a little confident again.”

a slow smile spread across his face, his hand reaching across the table to take yours. daeho's fingers were warm, his touch gentle as he smoothed his thumb over your knuckles.

“you are beautiful,” he said firmly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“you’ve always been beautiful. before the kids, during both pregnancies and even now. you’re incredible, y/n.”

the sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion. daeho's gaze held so much love, so much admiration that it was almost overwhelming.

you could see it in the way his eyes softened, in the little upward curve of his lips...the light that always appeared when he looked at you.

“thank you,” you whispered, feeling your heart swell.

he smiled, his thumb still brushing over your hand.

“always.”

you hesitated for a moment, then asked, “how about you? how have your therapy sessions been going?”

for a moment, something flickered across his face, something guarded, but then he relaxed, letting out a soft breath.

“good,” he replied. “really good. my therapist has been helping me work through a lot, especially… the ganghwa.. um- thing.. and… well, everything else. he has been nice.”

you nodded, squeezing his hand.

“I’ve noticed. you’ve been doing so well. I’m really proud of you.”

he gave you a soft, almost shy smile, his ears tinged pink.

“i’m trying.”

“i love you,” you said, feeling the weight of those words fully.

daeho's smile widened, his eyes filled with warmth.

“I love you too.”

however, the waiter arrived, interrupting the tender moment.

“are you both ready to order?”

you smiled politely, letting go of dae-ho’s hand to glance back at the menu.

“yes, I’ll have the salmon with rice and vegetables, please.”

the waiter nodded, jotting the order down on his ipad before turning to dae-ho.

“i'll take the galbi-jjim,” dae-ho said, choosing one of the fancier korean dishes on the menu.

“excellent choices. I’ll be back with your drinks shortly.”

as the waiter walked away, you found yourself about to bring up the babies. something about how seo-ah probably had pancakes for dinner and how byeol was likely fussing about now.

however, you stopped yourself just in time. instead, you leaned in, a playful grin on your face.

“so… I started watching this old american sitcom the other day, one I used to watch back home back then...” you began, twirling your fork between your fingers.

dae-ho raised an eyebrow, interest piqued.

“oh? which one?”

“it’s called full house. I found it online and I started to remember how much I used to love that show as a kid. it’s cheesy but… I don’t know, it makes me laugh.”

daeho's face lit up, his shoulders relaxing as he chuckled.

“that's very nice, I've heard of it but I have never seen it before.”

you smiled, warmth blooming in your chest.

“it reminds me of home, in a weird way. it’s… comforting.”

he reached for your hand again, his thumb stroking gently.

“I’m glad. I know how hard it’s been for you to find things that feel safe.”

you nodded, thinking back to how your taste in shows had shifted over the years.

before the games, you used to watch intense thrillers, horror films, anything dark and gritty. after surviving the games, those kinds of shows felt suffocating...too real and too triggering.

now, sitcoms and lighthearted comedies were your go-to.

“it’s funny,” you mused, “I used to love horror movies and all that dark stuff, but now… I can’t even handle jump scares. I just want something that makes me laugh.”

“that makes sense,” dae-ho agreed, his voice gentle.

“after everything we went through… I’m glad you’ve found something that brings you peace.”

you smiled, feeling the weight on your chest lift a little.

“and when I’m not watching sitcoms, I’m stuck watching all of seo-ah’s cartoons while you're doing work in the office.”

he laughed, the sound deep and warm.

“oh, the joys of parenting. at least her shows are educational, right?”

“sure,” you giggled, rolling your eyes.

“if learning how to sing every nursery rhyme and counting to one-hundred counts.”

he chuckled, and in that moment, everything felt easy and simple. you were just two people in love, on a normal date night, without the weight of your past hanging over you.

you caught the way he was looking at you again...soft, admiring, like you were the only person in the room.

the both of you got your food not too long afterwards. the food was delicious, super good.

as you swirled your fork around the last few bites of salmon, the soft hum of the restaurant filled the space between you and dae-ho. the warm glow of the chandeliers above cast a golden hue on the table, making the wine glasses shimmer, and the soft murmur of conversations from the few other people around created a peaceful backdrop. it felt… perfect.

dae-ho leaned back in his chair, his hand resting lazily around his glass as he looked at you, his gaze filled with something deeper, calm, love, maybe even a little wonder.

“we should go on a vacation soon,” he said, his voice soft but excited, like the thought had been bouncing around in his head for a while.

you perked up, setting your fork down.

“yeah?”

he nodded, a slight grin on his face.

“yeah. maybe okinawa in japan? or jeju island? somewhere warm, by the water or even hawaii... I don't know just a real beach vacation.”

the thought made your heart flutter. a real family vacation. you could almost see it now: seo-ah building sandcastles, byeol’s tiny feet dipping into the water for the first time, you and dae-ho under a beach umbrella, watching it all unfold.

you smiled at him, the idea filling you with warmth.

“that sounds perfect.”

then, practicality hit, and you laughed softly, shaking your head.

“but… maybe we should wait a bit? byeol’s only four months old. traveling with her right now might be… a lot.”

he chuckled, his hand moving to rub at the back of his neck.

“yeah, you’re right. i got ahead of myself.”

you reached across the table, placing your hand over his. “no, i love that you’re thinking about it. it means a lot.” you paused, letting the moment sit between you before adding, “it’s kinda funny, though. having these kinds of conversations now, with our own little family.”

daeho's eyebrows lifted, and a soft smile tugged at his lips as he nodded in agreement.

“i know,” you continued, “it wasn’t that long ago what, five years? we were just starting out. barely had enough money to get those cheap triangle kimbaps from the convenience store. and that tiny apartment of yours…” you laughed, the memory vivid in your mind.

“remember how the ceiling leaked every time it rained?”

he let out a deep laugh, his shoulders shaking.

“oh my god, yes and that heater? the one that would rattle like it was going to explode every winter?”

“i was sure we’d freeze to death that first year,” you giggled, your fingers still tracing his knuckles.

dae-ho’s laughter faded into a fond smile.

“but you stayed. through all of that.” his voice softened, eyes locking with yours. “and now… we’re here. I feel, i don’t know...complete, I guess? knowing we made it out of tha- that i got us here.”

your heart clenched, your chest swelling with emotion. you could see the pride in his eyes, the relief, too. you squeezed his hand gently.

“we did it together, dae-ho. yeah... i feel complete too.”

the two of you ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, occasionally offering each other bites and exchanging smiles.

as you finished the last bites of your meal, you leaned back in your chair, your hand resting on your stomach.

“i don’t think i’ve been this full in years,” you said, laughing softly.

dae-ho grinned, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“me neither.”

you both sat there for a moment, soaking in the calmness. the restaurant was still relatively quiet...only a few couples scattered across the room, some leaning in close to each other, others sipping wine and laughing.

“it’s nice here,” you murmured, glancing around.

“everyone just… looks so content.”

“yeah,” dae-ho agreed, his voice soft.

“maybe they’re like us...getting a rare night away from their kids.”

you smiled at the thought, leaning your chin against your hand as you gazed at him.

“probably but i don’t think anyone here’s been through what we have. at least I hope not...”

he nodded, his expression turning thoughtful.

“no… probably not.”

“yeah.” you sighed, the peacefulness of the moment wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

you reached across the table, lacing your fingers with his again as your legs caress his underneath the table.

“thank you,” you whispered.

“for what?”

“for this. for everything.”

he smiled, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your hand.

“you don't need to thank me, I would do this for you always.”

another hour goes by as you and dae-ho stepped out of the warm glow of the restaurant, the cool midnight air of spring wrapped around you like a gentle whisper. 

it wasn’t freezing, but the april breeze sent a subtle shiver up your arms, making you instinctively rub your hands over them for warmth. you didn’t say anything, but dae-ho noticed immediately. he always did as he observed your movements. without a word, he slipped off his blazer and gently draped it over your shoulders. 

the soft fabric was still warm from his body heat, carrying his familiar scent, cologne mixed with something uniquely him.  

“there,” he murmured, adjusting it so it sat comfortably on your shoulders. 

“can’t have my wife freezing.” the man chuckled.

you smiled softly, touched by the small but meaningful gesture. 

“thank you.”  

he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, “always.”  

the two of you began walking down the street, your heels clicking lightly against the pavement, though with each step, your exhaustion settled deeper into your body. it wasn’t the kind of tiredness that came from stress or worry…just the peaceful fatigue of a long, perfect night. 

you knew if you admitted how tired you were, dae-ho would offer to carry you all the way back home to the countryside without hesitation. as your gaze wandered, something caught your eye, a sleek, towering hotel just down the street. 

the way its windows gleamed under the moonlight, reflecting the city skyline, made it feel like a sanctuary. tall and elegant, its name glowed softly in the night, inviting, almost tempting.  

you stopped walking, tugging lightly at dae-ho’s hand to get his attention.  

he turned to you, brow raised in curiosity. 

“what’s up?”  

you gestured toward the hotel. 

“what if… we just stayed there tonight?”  

he followed your gaze, then looked back at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 

“really?”  

you nodded, shifting his blazer tighter around your shoulders. 

“i’m too tired to head all the way home. and… it could be fun like a mini staycation.”  

he considered it for a moment, then his smile widened, warmth dancing in his eyes. “i like that idea. plus,” he chuckled, “i’m pretty tired too. would be nice to just… crash there together.”  

“and not worry about anything else,” you added, feeling a flutter of excitement at the thought.  

“exactly.”  

no other words were spoken before the two of you made your way to the hotel, the building seeming even nicer and bigger as you approached. the glass doors opened silently as you entered the sleek, modern lobby, where soft music played in the background and a massive chandelier sparkled above. 

everything smelled faintly of jasmine and something crisp, almost like fresh rain. checking in was quick, and soon you and dae-ho were stepping into the elevator, heading up to the 17th floor. 

as the doors closed, you leaned against his side, feeling his arm slip around your waist, holding you close. the soft ding of the elevator signaled your arrival, and you both stepped out, walking down the plush-carpeted hallway until you found your room. once inside, you let out a soft gasp…the view was breathtaking.  

the entire far wall was made of floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing the city of seoul in all its midnight glory. glittering lights stretched out endlessly, streets crisscrossing below like illuminated veins, cars moving like tiny, glowing specks. 

the han river shimmered in the distance, reflecting the city lights, and the n tower stood tall against the night sky.  

“wow,” you whispered, walking up to the windows, placing your hand gently against the cool glass.  

dae-ho closed the door behind you, slipping off his shoes before making his way over. he stopped right behind you, his presence warm, grounding. daeho’s hands found your waist, pulling you gently against him, his grip firm but gentle.  

“it’s beautiful, huh?” he murmured against your ear, his breath warm with an ulterior motive.  

you nodded, your heart fluttering. 

“so beautiful.”  

your husband’s hands tightened slightly on your waist before his lips found the spot just below your ear, pressing soft, lingering kisses there. the sensation sent a shiver down your spine, but it wasn’t from the cold this time. you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as his mouth moved lower, his lips trailing delicate kisses along your neck. 

the softness, the tenderness…it had been a while since the two of you had this kind of intimacy, uninterrupted, without the background noise of crying babies or toddler giggles. daeho’s hands roamed, sliding over your waist, his fingers tracing the curves of your body through the pink dress you are wearing.  

your breath hitched, a soft whimper slipping out as his lips pressed against that sensitive spot just beneath your jawline. you felt your entire body responding, warmth pooling deep in your core, your hands reaching up to grasp his as they held you close.  

you turned slowly in his arms, your chest rising and falling, your eyes meeting his. your man’s gaze was heavy with want, filled with love and desire all tangled together. your hands slid up his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. you tilted your chin, your eyes flickering down to his lips before locking back onto his.  

you leaned in, pressing your mouth against his, the kiss soft at first but quickly deepening. daeho’s hands moved, one sliding up your back while the other cradled your cheek, holding you there as if he couldn’t get close enough.  

the kiss became more urgent, more intense, as you let yourself get lost in the feeling of him. the familiar scent of his cologne, the warmth of his touch, the gentle but possessive way his hands moved over your body. you whimpered against his lips when you felt his hand grab your left ass cheek, realizing just how much you had needed this…him, this moment, this connection.  

daeho’s other hands slid down again, gripping your waist firmly as he pressed you closer, deepening the kiss further, like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between the two of you.  your fingers tangled in his hair as your lips moved together, every emotion, every ounce of love, and longing pouring into the moment.  

the taller man stopped before lifting you up, his left hand staying on your ass with his right going under your dress to lift you up. he carries you to the queen size bed and gets right back into kissing all over your neck and collarbones.

“dae,” you whimpered, his large hand pushing your left leg to open. your leg’s knee lifted up to be closer to your chest as your husband’s bulge pressed against your center. 

“baby, what do you want from me?” daeho groaned, his hand coming up to massage your right boob through your dress as he uses his teeth to pull your dress a bit down, exposing your left boob to him. 

“i- i need you.” you whimpered. 

“use more words sweetheart, i need you to be more specific.” he mumbled against your nipple, taking his lips and kissing around your boob teasing you.

“i need you to make love to me, fuck me, just put yourself inside of me.” you moaned when you feel daeho’s bulge press against your center once again. your underwear was ruined, completely soaked, and your husband could feel it through his pants.  

your husband moved up to kiss your ear once again. it was clear hat he was tired, as were you, but you guys needed eachother more. tired and lazy sex it is! you whimper softly as you feel your man’s hands pull your soft lacy underwear off of your body, keeping your dress on. 

“you’re so big.” you moaned when your bare center settled onto daeho’s clothed cock. he started dry humping you, his lips making contact with yours again. you moaned wanting to feel him inside of you, your core clenched onto nothing as your husband used his free hand to hold your wirsts together above your head.

“be patient, baby.” daeho groaned, feeling himself grow impatient as he looked down at your core, completely soaking his dress pants and the bed below. 

“you’re so pretty. i can never get enough of this pussy, can’t i?” your husband whispered to himself but you heard it, you bit your lips as you admire your husband unzipping his pants. the man’s big cock is freed from his pants and boxers, which causes you to spread your legs as wide as possible.

your husband didn’t even bother taking off his pants before he pulled you towards him. he started to kiss down your inner thighs, starting from your knees and going closer and closer to where you wants him to be.

“i’m the impatient one?” you smirked as your husband taking no time in teasing you, as you knew he planned to. 

“shhh!” he whispered against your soft inner legs. 

daeho finally reached your center and you released the loudest moan when he kitten licked from your center and up to your clit. he started flicking at it with the tip of his tongue, using his thumb to expose the little bud from its hood.

your hands grabbed your man’s dark hair as he held one hand on your waist, the other massaging your left thigh.

“yes, fuck! you’re doing so amazing.” you praised. your man pushed his tongue inside of your walls which causes you to whine in pleasure. your dress was pushed up your waist, and daeho’s face was completely covered with your juices

 after feeling the familiar tightness in your core, you arched your back off of the bed.

“ah ah, stay.” daeho held your waist in order for yout entire body to on the bed. he admired your soaked vagina before sitting up, seeing how much you’re ready for him.  

“please fuck me.” you say. 

daeho places your legs on his shoulders before bending down to kiss you. neither of you bothered to take off your clothes. again, your dress gave him easy access and he was too tired to take off his pants completely. he needed you as soon as possible.

you look down and moan at daeho moving his fat mushroom tip along her folds, you moaned when it make contact with your swollen clit before it slips in easily. your juices coating his cock perfectly as you feel your walls greet the familiar dick inside of you. 

as good as daeho’s cock was, you can’t question how you’ve gotten pregnant twice.

“fuck, you’re always so soaked.” your husband leans down, engulfing you in a heated kiss as your walls grip his cock perfectly. 

you moaned loudly, never getting enough of daeho’s dirty talk.

your love combined with your sex made daeho the happiest man in the world. seeing his love under him as you looked down at his dick rearranging your insides every.single.time with your glassy eyes and swollen lips made his cock twitch more than he could count.

“you’re so pretty.” daeho whimpered. you felt yourself clutch around his dick due to his whimpering. you could never get enough. 

“your dick is sooo big!” you moaned, spreading your legs as an angle which helped daeho’s tip kiss at her cervix.

“all for you, mama, all for you.” daeho kissed your lips once again, his tongue entering your mouth at a nice pace.

your husband continued to moan and whisper as your insides pulsed around his sick, “i’m gonna-“ you moaned, before you realized that you couldn’t gold it. he is too good. you finally released all over daeho, getting your juices all over his cock and the bedsheets, as his hand caressed your face.

 “I’m almost done, i’m almost there sweetheart, hold out for me.” daeho fucked into you harder, knowing how sensitive your pussy is now. as he felt himself coming inside of your walls, you nearly squealed at his dick abusing that good spot inside of you.

“fuck fuck fuck!” you scratched at his bicep. 

“oh my god you’re so amazing, that was needed.” daeho pulled out of you.  

the love of your life laid on top of you, his body weight a little crushing but it served as a warm blanket in the cool hotel room. you smiled, noticing how both of you were still dressed. 

“it was needed. i love how we didn’t bother to take off our clothes.” you smile, smoothing your hands through daeho’s soft hair as his hands gripped at your childbearing hips in comfort. 

“yea, we were both impatient.” daeho jokes, coming up to kiss your lips softly before fully falling asleep on your chest. 

kang family series masterlist

[blueheron15]

Can you do one where the reader has a daddy kink…. (I know I’m sorry) but it’s kook!reader and JJ being all cute and then things start getting spicy? I’m not exactly picky and I know I’m not being very descriptive I’m sorry and if you don’t want to do this I’d completely understand! Have a good day!

proper gentleman

pairing: jj x fem!kook!reader

summary: while talking about your daddy issues with jj, you… get turned on?

warning: daddy kink, cursing, smut

a/n: totally fine with this, i hope you like the direction i took w this anon!!

your mom had won the lawsuit against your piece of shit dad, which is why you were able to live on the kook side of the obx.

but you still returned home every day to a messy house and a drunk mother, passed out on the couch.

until you met jj maybank one night at the boneyard.

shitty and alcoholic parents was one thing you could relate to each other about. although it took him a while to learn to entrust you with his heart, he fell for your beauty and humor right away. he didn’t even care that you were technically a kook.

that wasn’t even the most shocking part of it all. somehow, you had turned to rugged, fuckboy into a lover boy who was completely smitten with you.

so much so, that he refused to let his girl walk to the chateau from the kook academy. with you, he truly wanted to be a proper gentleman. he ditched school a few minutes early to meet you in the parking lot, leaning against his bike, toothpick in his mouth.

“hey.” you mumbled distractedly, approaching him. you were in the blue academy uniform- buttoned up blazer, short plaid skirt, white knee high socks with your mary janes. you let your hair flow free, flipping it back against the slight wind before busying yourself on your phone.

“sup” he jutted his chin out in greeting. as you stood in front of him, he reached out to place a coarse, ringed hand on your hips. the other hand gently grabbed the wrist that was holding your phone, removing it from your line of sight. you leaned into him slightly, dropping your forehead onto his chest as you let out a frustrated groan.

“what’sa matter, baby?” he questioned, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“my dad.” you pouted, tilting your head up. “he’s posting photos of his vacation with his new wife and kids, and my mom is already drunk and going ape shit over it.”

he hummed in acknowledgment. “ah.”

“n’ she’s all like ‘he’s doing it on purpose to make me jealous’ so she told me she won’t be home tonight so she could go out with a man to get back at him and i-“

“hey, hey, hey,” he cooed, raising a hand to cradle your cheek. “i can see your pretty mind goin a million miles a second.”

“because it’s annoying!” you whined. “and of course, throughout all of this, they’re not thinking about how it effects me.” you sighed. “it’s like they don’t even notice me.”

jj shrugged, letting out a breath of understanding. “yea. they’re prolly not thinking bout u. but hey,” he lowered his face so y’all were at eye level, looking lovingly at you. “don’t let that fuck with you, aight? because i, for one, am always thinkin bout my beautiful, special girl. mkay?”

your heart nearly exploded in your chest and your body filled with warmth and your face broke into a cheeky grin. “okay.” you smiled. your lips finally met for a kiss, and of course, his hands wandered a lil down south.

he pecked your mouth, and peppered kisses all across your face while his hands cropped your ass atop of the skirt he found you so sexy in.

he leant in, breath smelling of weed a salt water, whispering “it’s alright, baby. i’ll be your daddy.”

he meant it as a joke, but wasn’t opposed to the way he felt your knees slightly buckle, and your breath hitch. he smirked.

“let’s go, y/n.” he said, backing up suddenly to pat the seat of his bike. “i just realized that i got some important business to attend to.”

-`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´-

that’s how you found yourself against the wall of your bedroom in your empty house. bouncing up and down on jj’s cock.

your preppy uniform skirt still on, the fabric rubbing deliciously against your clit.

“such a good girl f’me, huh?” jj grunted, meeting your movements by thrusting up into you roughly.

tears dried onto your cheeks as you let out moans. well, more like screams. “y-yes!”

“yes what?”

“yes daddy!”

“mhmm” jj groaned in approval, supporting your weight by digging his nails into the beautiful, jiggling flesh of your ass. “daddy’s taking such good care of you, hm?”

“yes!” you nodded frantically. “s-so good!” you whined, harshly grabbing him by the neck to bring his mouth to your tits.

“this whatcha want, my good girl?”

“p-please daddy.”

he abruptly brought an elbow to pin you against the wall, stopping your movements. you let out a hiccup of protest, but not making a sound instead and giving him sad eyes, knowing you had succumbed completely to his mercy.

he knew it too, by the devilish look on his face. “then my princess is gonna get whatever she wants.” he whispered in earnest.

he brought his tongue to swivel and suck your nipples, and for once, you knew that your daddy was finally going to love on you.

[loveesiren]

Help Me (Pt. 1)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader

Synopsis: When Rafe finds out Y/n's in trouble, he's determined to keep her safe.

Warnings: Language, drug use, fentanyl, mentions of sex trafficking, abuse, 18+

Word Count: 4.1k+

"I can stop whenever I want, Y/N, I'm just fucking stressed out, alright?"

You watch as Rafe leans down and takes another line before leaning back against his car seat and pressing his hands to his head.

Rafe was really the only friend you had made on the island so far. Besides JJ's friends of course. After your mom died you were forced to move back with your dad and JJ. You were ecstatic to see your little brother, but Luke was a different story. Nothing had changed. He was still an abusive, alcoholic, piece of shit, always taking his anger out on JJ.

That was not something you had shared with Rafe. In fact, he didn't even know you were a Pogue, much less related to JJ.

You had a job at the club. One night after your shift you wandered down to the beach to sit by the water. Thats where you found Rafe Cameron passed out drunk in the sand. You helped him home and gave him your number. Ever since then, the two of you met up practically every night. He'd pick you up after work and the two of you would go to the beach and talk. You loved spending time with him. He made you laugh and smile and forget the hell that awaited you at home. But you knew he was king of the Kooks and hated the Pogues. You knew you couldn't hide that fact forever but you really didn't want to lose him over something so stupid.

"I don't like seeing you kill yourself, Rafe." You told him softly, choking back tears. Your mother had just died from a drug overdose not even 2 months ago.

"Then don't watch." He told you dryly as he set up another line on the center console.

You scoffed. He's never talked to you like that before. "You know my mom died because of this shit?" You yelled at him. "And cuz of that I have to move to this shit island and deal with my dad beating on my brother and I all day?"

He looked up at you, concern in his eyes now. "I-I didn't know you had a brother. You've never even told me about your family."

You sighed, clenching your jaw. "Yeah," You said before pulling back your hoodie to reveal the bruises forming around your neck.

"Y/N..." He said as he reached out, placing his fingers gently on your collar bone. You flinched at his touch.

"And JJ gets it a lot worse." You stated as you grabbed your things. Rafe was silent, taking in the new information. You were JJ's sister?

You hopped out of his truck, leaving him with the secrets you'd just revealed to him, knowing good and well this was probably the end of you and Rafe Cameron.

"I'm a Pogue," You said calmly, shrugging your shoulders with a half smile before slamming the door and walking off towards the Cut.

——————–

Rafe noticed you immediately as he entered Midsummers. You were working the bar tonight but because of the event, you were a lot more dressed up than usual. A tight black dress hugged your curves. Your wavy hair pulled back in a half pony. He noticed the diamonds draped around your neck. You looked nothing like a Pogue. He could also see the slight discoloration of the bruises you had tried to cover with make up. He wouldn't have noticed them if he hadn't seen them for himself the other night.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment as he watched how elegantly you moved and interacted with others. How the hell was she a Maybank? He thought to himself.

You met Rafe's eyes for a moment. He didn't seem fucked up. He seemed concerned. You bit your lip for a moment before turning away, not offering him a smile or anything. You had avoided talking to him for a few days. As much as you missed him, you couldn't risk getting close to someone who used drugs to cope. Weed never bothered you. You'd even have a beer once in a while. But after everything you and JJ witnessed growing up, you knew how badly the outcome could be.

Rafe was standing around with Kelce and Topper, sipping on a cocktail when he noticed JJ making his way through the crowd. "Shit," He whispered under his breath as he noticed the bruise surrounding JJ's left eye.

"Well, well, well," Kelce said, stepping out in front of JJ, catching him by surprise. "I'd love if you could get me a mai tai, my friend."

"Yeah, see I'm kind of on the clock right now but if you guys just wanna wait by the bar-" JJ said before taking off in the crowd.

You darted your eyes towards the locker rooms as you saw your brother running through the sea of people, Rafe, Kelce, and the rest of their posse chasing him. "What the fuck," You said to yourself. JJ was not supposed to be here.

"Hey, Jesse!" You leaned over to your coworker. "Can you run the bar for a minute? I gotta use the bathroom."

"Sure thing," He responds and you made your way towards the locker rooms.

You had just reached the door when JJ was being dragged out by security. "What the hell is going on here?!" You ask.

"Tell your sister she's pretty hot for a Pogue!" You hear Rafe's voice call out after JJ.

JJ quickly slips away from the security guard and rushes towards him. "JJ!" You said as you and the security guard pull him back.

Rafe's eyes go wide as they meet yours. He wasn't expecting to see you, immediately regretting what he just said.

"What the fuck, Rafe?!" You said, storming towards him. You slapped him across the face as hard as you could. But before you knew it, Kelce had pushed you to the ground.

As a second security guard began to pull you away from the scene you saw Rafe slam Kelce up against a wall and scream at him, although you couldn't make out what he was saying as you were dragged away.

You and JJ were thrown out in front of the entire party. JJ helping you to your feet as you fell in the grass.

"Don't you EVER FUCKING TOUCH HER AGAIN!" Rafe screamed in Kelce's face, pinning him against the wall by his neck.

"What the fuck dude?! She's just some fucking Pogue!" Kelce responded.

"Never fucking again. Do you understand me?" Rafe said, eyes locked on Kelce. Kelce nodded in agreement.

Rafe took a deep breath before pushing off of Kelce and heading outside.

He watched as you stumbled away with your brother.

"Fuck, JJ!" You said as you walked along the beach. John B, Kiara, and Pope trailing behind you. "What the fuck was that?! I just lost my goddamn job!"

"I did nothing!" He yelled back at you. "It's those fucking Kooks!"

"Why the hell were you even there in the first place?!"

JJ was silent.

"Is this about your little treasure hunt again?" You asked, aiming your question at the group. They all stayed silent. "Great. That's just great. Leave me the hell out of it!" You said as you stormed off, making your way home.

You were almost to your house when your phone buzzed. A text from Rafe.

Y/N, I'm sorry. Can we please talk?

You rolled your eyes and shut off your phone.

You took a deep breath before you headed inside. Your dad was still up. Fuck. He was wasted as usual.

"Hey Princess," He mumbled. Your stomach turned at his words. You always hated when he called you that.

"I'm going to bed," You said dryly as you headed toward your room. Luke grabbed your arm and spun you back towards him.

"Now that's no way to greet your daddy, is it?"

His breath smelled like whiskey and cigarettes. The scent made you gag. "Get off me!" You yell, shoving him backwards.

He grabbed you by your neck and threw you against the wall. "You don't fuckin' talk to me like that you little bitch." He said through gritted teeth. "You're a slut just like your momma!"

You spat in his face and he punched you in the side of the head. He continued to hit you several more times until you were a bloody heap on the floor, barely conscious.

You could feel yourself being dragged across the floor and placed roughly on the couch.

"Ya know," Luke started. You were barely able to register his words. "I bet I could make a real pretty penny off of you."

Your eyes fluttered slightly as you tried to catch your breath. You saw him stick his hunting knife into a small plastic bag. He came over and grabbed your chin, forcing you to open your mouth.

"Here ya go, Princess." He said as he forced your mouth open and pressed the tip of his knife to you tongue. "I gotta go make some calls. You just wait riiiight here." He said as you quickly felt your head start to get heavy.

"Dad, please..." You begged before the familiar feeling of fentanyl took over your body.

______________

"What the fuck did you do?!" JJ yelled at his dad as he saw your motionless body on the couch.

"Ya know yer sister has a real mouth on her," Luke spat.

JJ had his fingers pressed to your neck, barely able to find your pulse.

"Did you fucking drug her?!"

"It's none of your concern boy! Now get the hell out of here I have someone pickin' 'er up in 20 minutes." Luke said as he walked to the kitchen to make another drink.

JJ's eyes widened. "What do you mean picking her up?"

Luke was silent.

"Dad...did-did you fucking sell her?" JJ muttered.

JJ couldn't contain his rage anymore as he picked a beer bottle up off the table and threw it at the back of his dads head.

"Fuck!" Luke said as glass shattered against his skin. He didn't even have time to turn around before JJ had already pushed him to the floor, landing punches to the side of his head over and over again. Blood coated JJ's face and the walls as he took out all his pent up rage on his father.

The way he'd abused you guys your whole lives. Beating you, drugging you, and now going as far as to sell his own daughter to make a quick buck. He couldn't take it anymore.

Luke was barely clinging to consciousness when JJ finally let go of him.

He stood over his father as he tried to slow his breathing and think of his next move. "Fuck," He whispered to himself as he ran his shaking hand through his blonde locks. "Fuck, okay.."

He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

JB: Hello?

JJ: John B! I-I need your help man!

JB: What's going on?

JJ: I'll explain later just please come pick us up.

JB: Us?

JJ: Me and Y/N, man, PLEASE!

JB: I'm on my way!

JJ tried his best not to hyperventilate as he made his way over to you. "Come on, Y/N, please wake up!" He begged, shaking you lightly. He could see all the bruising and blood that coated your body and he didn't want to risk hurting you further.

He got up and paced around the room as he waited for John B. He spotted the clear baggie on the table and picked it up. He flicked it as he examined the small amount of white powder. He knew it wasn't coke. "Fuck!" He yelled, unsure of how much you had consumed. This wasn't the first time your dad had drugged you. He'd done it when you were kids to get you to sleep. JJ prayed he didn't overdo it as tears fell from his eyes.

His head snapped up as he heard a car pulling up out front. He inched the curtain of the doors window to the side, expecting to see John B. It wasn't.

A black Lincoln parked in front of the house and shut off the lights. "Shiiiit!" JJ whispered in a panic. He ran over to your and gently scooped your small frame into his arms, cradling your head against his chest. "I got you, sis." He said as he quietly made his way towards the back door.

He made his way through the trees as he heard two men talking as they approached the house. He moved quietly toward the road when he spotted the Twinkie. He ran out in front of it, John B swerving to avoid hitting them before coming to a quick stop.

Kiara slid the door open to let him in. "Holy shit, what happened?!" She asked, terror in her voice as she looked over the wounds coating your unconscious body.

"My dad," JJ choked out. "He-he was gonna sell her." He was sobbing now as he laid your body down gently, resting your head on a pillow.

"What?" Kiara and John B said in unison.

"He drugged her and beat her and these two guys showed up and I grabbed her and ran. I-I don't even know what to do. The things they were going to do to her..." He trailed off, unable to bare the thought. He pulled his knees to his chest and sobbed more.

"We need to get her to a hospital," Kiara said softly as she rubbed JJ's back.

"No! No hospitals. I'll call my cousin." JJ said as he took out his phone. "Just go back to the Chateau."

______________

JJ chewed on his finger as he paced around the room.

Ricky checked over you one more time. "She's alive." He finally said. "And she'll be okay."

JJ sighed in relief, as did John B, Kiara, and Pope.

"She has a concussion. I was able to stitch up these two cuts," He said as motioned to the one on the side of your head and on your collar bone. "She's going to be out for a while but he didn't give her a lethal dose."

"Thank you, Ricky." JJ said. "Seriously."

Ricky offered him a smile. "I always liked her more than you," He chuckled as he stood up and patted JJ on the shoulder. "If you need anything else, just give me a call."

JJ nodded. "Thanks, man."

______________

You were still out cold when the Pogues woke up.

"What time is it?" Pope asked groggily as he rubbed his eyes.

"11:30," Kiara responded with a sigh.

JJ stood up and pulled on his boots.

"Where are you going?" John B asked.

"Gotta get some stuff from my place," He said before leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead. "Keep an eye on her, I'll be back in an hour."

"Okay," John B responded.

"Call me if she wakes up!" JJ yelled as he ran out the door.

JJ sighed as he adjusted the gun in his waist band. Making sure he would be able to grab it if needed. He stood in front of his house, the front door was wide open.

He walked in slowly. Scanning over his home in search of his dad. "Dad?" He asked softly. There was no response. He wasn't sprawled out in a bloody heap on the floor where JJ had left him the night before.

The house was quiet and when JJ was sure there was no one inside he headed toward your room. He grabbed a duffle bag out of your closet and started shoving as many clothes in it as possible. He grabbed a book that lay on your bedside table. He also grabbed your purse knowing all your important items would be in there. When he was done, he threw the bag over his shoulder. He was about to head out when something caught his eye.

He picked up the gold chain that lay on your dresser. A small locket attached to it. He popped it open to find a picture of your mother. He smiled. You looked so much like the woman she used to be before drugs took over her life. He noticed the picture in the other side of the locket. It was a picture of the two of you when you were kids. He brushed his thumb over the small picture as he remembered that day. You taught him to build sand castles and make jewelry out of shells you found on the beach. He remembers how well you were able to distract him from the sound of your parents fighting.

"Y/N!"

JJ snapped out of the memory as someone knocked on the front door, yelling your name. He shoved the necklace in his pocket and grabbed his gun.

He rounded the corner, pointing the gun at the intruder.

"Fuck!" Rafe said as he turned around and noticed JJ pointing the gun directly at him. "Chill dude," Rafe said as he put his arms up in defense. "I'm not here to start anything."

"Why are you here, Rafe?" JJ asked, still pointing the gun in his direction.

"I'm looking for Y/N,"

"Why?"

"I just wanted to talk to her about last night. Apologize." He lowered his hands as JJ lowered the gun. "And I think I can get her her job back."

JJ looked down at his feet. "She's not here," He said as he pushed past Rafe and out the front door.

"Well, do you know where she is?" Rafe asked as he followed him. "Look, JJ, I'm sorry about last night. I really am. But I care about Y/N."

"Rafe!" JJ yelled as he turned to face him. "Look, man, just-just go home, okay? We've got shit to deal with." JJ snapped.

Rafe looked him in the eyes, his brows furrowed. "I-is she okay?" His voice was soft.

JJ could feel tears forming in his eyes, but he wouldn't dare cry in front of Rafe. "Go home, Rafe." His words were quiet but firm as he turned around and stormed off.

Rafe ran his fingers through his hair. Nausea creeped through his body as he began to worry. What happened to you? He was beating himself up over the way he had treated you. You were the only person to actually care about him. That scared him and he pushed you away. Now he was scared he would never get the chance to tell you how he really felt.

_______________

Rafe chewed on his thumb nail as he made his way up to his room. He paused when he heard Sarah on the phone. He leaned closer to her door trying to make out what she was saying.

"He was going to sell her?! Like to traffickers?!"

Rafe's breath hitched. Was she talking about Y/N?

"Is she awake yet?"

There was silence. Rafe still held his breath.

"Well, we can bring her to Tanneyhill. She'll be safe here."

Rafe waited a few more moments.

"Alright, I'll be there soon." Sarah said before hanging up the phone.

"Fuck," Rafe whispered as he leaned his back to the wall and pressed his palms to his eyes.

Sarah opened the door and jumped at the unexpected sight of her brother. "What are you doing?" She asked him.

"Sarah, was that about Y/N?" He asked as he pointed down to her phone.

"Are you listening to my conversations?!" She asked, irritation in her voice.

"Sarah. Sarah!" Rafe yelled, squeezing his eyes shut and lowering his hand slowly to try and calm down. "Is Y/N hurt?"

"Why do you care, Rafe? I thought you hated Pogues."

His eyes began to water. "Is she hurt?" His voice cracked.

Sarah's expression softened. She nodded softly. "Yeah, Rafe. She is. And she's not safe, we need to bring her here."

"Where is she?" He asked, already fishing his keys out of his pocket and headed down the stairs.

"She's at John B's." She replied, following him quickly.

Rafe and Sarah both climbed into his truck. He turned it on and quickly threw it into drive as he sped off towards the Cut.

"Tell me what happened, Sarah." Rafe demanded.

Sarah had never seen her brother like this and it frightened her.

"Uhm, I don't know everything just that her dad beat her and drugged her when she got home. When JJ found her she was unconscious and her dad was getting ready to sell her off to some men. JJ got her out of there right when they showed up." She explained.

Rafe clenched his fists around the steering wheel as he sped faster towards John B's. Sarah gripped her seat tighter, nervous at the speed they were accelerating to.

Rafe pulled up in front of John B's house and quickly threw the truck into park before hopping out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," John B said as he watched Rafe quickly approach his house. Pope stood behind him, ready to fight if need be. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"He just wants to help," Sarah said, standing between Rafe and John B.

"Where is she?" Rafe's voice was shaky.

John B stared at him for a moment before nodding towards the door. "On the couch," He said.

Rafe pushed past him and went inside, immediately seeing your bruised unconscious figure laying flat on the couch. Kiara had just put you into sweats and a t-shirt before using a warm rag to wipe away the rest of the blood from your wounds.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked as she turned to Rafe.

"Fuck," Rafe cried softly as he fell to his knees beside you and Kiara, taking your hand gently in his and putting it to his cheek.

"What the fuck?" Kiara mouthed to John B as him and Sarah came inside. John B just shrugged with wide eyes, equally confused as the rest of them.

"John B do you have like any clean-" JJ began as he entered the room. "What the fuck are you doing here, Rafe?" JJ spat when he saw Rafe kneeling by your body. "Get the fuck away from my sister!" He said, lunging towards him.

Rafe fell back and held his hands up. "I just wanna help!" He yelled. JJ paused as he saw Rafe crying. "Please," He whispered. "Let me help her." He begged.

"We can take her to Tanneyhill." Sarah chimed in. "Our parents will be gone for the rest of the week. She can recover there. And whoever is looking for her won't find her."

JJ thought for a moment, biting his lip. "Okay." He agreed, realizing that would be the safest place for you while he sorted all of this out. "Let's take her there now." He said as he went to lift your off the couch.

"Grab her shit," JJ said to Rafe as he nodded at the bag beside him. Rafe did as he was told.

Rafe ran out of the house and opened the door to the back seat. JJ climbed inside with you, resting your head on his lap. When Rafe was sure you were safely in the truck he jumped in the drivers seat. Sarah climbed in the passenger seat and the rest of the Pogues got in the bed of the truck.

You could make out voices around you but you couldn't get your eyes to open. The voices were familiar. "JJ?" Your voice was barely a whisper.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm here," He said as he ran his fingers through your hair.

"Is she up?" Rafe asked, constantly glancing back at you in the rearview mirror.

"Barely," JJ replied.

Rafe chewed on his bottom lip the whole drive back to his house. Once he pulled into the driveway, everyone was quick to help you out. Sarah guided them to the large spare bedroom and JJ laid you gently on the bed.

_____________

That night, Sarah started a fire in the fire pit out back. The Pogues sat around drinking beer and laughing. Rafe, however, never left your side. He sat in the chair next to your bed, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest as you slept peacefully.

"How do you know her?"

Rafe looked up to see JJ leaning against the doorway, beer in hand as he examined your state.

"She, uh..." Rafe began. "We met a couple months ago. Never met anyone like her before."

JJ nods his head. "She's a good person. Smart as shit too. Which makes me surprised she hung out with you."

Rafe chuckles and runs his tongue across his bottom lip. "Yeah, she's, uhm, special. The only person that's ever really given a fuck about me."

JJ was silent as he came to the other side of your bed, running a light finger over the stitches on your face.

"I was a dick," Rafe spoke up. "I fucked things up and I need to make them right. I mean, I-I just can't believe this happened."

"Well, I can't make her forgive you. And quite frankly, she's too good for you. But," JJ began. "I need to go find dear old dad and make sure she's going to be safe. Can I trust that you'll keep her safe here?"

Rafe nodded eagerly. "Yeah, of course. Anything I can do to help."

JJ studied Rafe's expression for a moment. He was being genuine. As much as JJ hated Rafe, he could tell the feelings he had for his sister were real and trusted that she'd be safe in his care.

[luv-lock]

⸻ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴛ ʏ ʀ ᴀ ɴ ᴛ ⸻

Pairing: Yandere HOTD x Targaryen Reader Part 1

Summary: Everything was fine. You were happy. Your mother was expecting a child, and soon enough, you would have another one to call family, to call your own. Everything was perfect. What could possibly go wrong?

˚꒰notes꒱‧ Reader is Rhaenyra's twin. Criston is already reader personal gourd. Dark reader. English is not my first language. Gifs don't belong to me credit to the owner. Hope you enjoy!

The chamber was warm, bathed in the soft glow of afternoon light that streamed through the narrow windows, casting golden patterns on the stone floor. Y/n stood by her mother’s bedside, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from Aemma’s face. Her mother was always beautiful, but now, heavy with child, there was a fragility to her that made Y/n’s heart stir in ways she wasn’t used to. A strange protectiveness, an almost suffocating need to keep her safe from all the sharp, ugly things in the world.

Aemma’s hand, delicate and pale, rested atop her swollen belly. Her breathing was slow, rhythmic, and tired. Y/n could see it, the weariness that clung to her mother’s every movement. She had been sick often lately, and though no one spoke of it, Y/n could feel something dark looming over them. Something inevitable.

"You must be kind, Y/n," Aemma said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but still full of that soft warmth that made her sound so motherly. "Be careful… be kind. To people… to the babe."

Her mother’s words hung in the air, and Y/n felt a smile tug at her lips—soft, gentle. Kind. I have always been kind, she thought, her mind drifting to the moments where she had shown her love, in the ways only she knew how.

“I am kind,” she replied softly, kneeling beside her mother’s bed and taking Aemma’s hand. It was cool to the touch, but still, her mother’s fingers closed weakly around hers. “I’ve always been kind to you, Mother. To Father, to Rhaenyra... I will be kind to my brother too.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, a secret shared between them. “I’ve already chosen a dragon egg for him. Dreamfyre's, and he will be great. He will be a king, Mother.”

Aemma smiled, but it was tired, worn. “You sound so certain it’s a boy,” she said with a faint laugh, but there was no real joy behind it—just exhaustion.

“It’s just a feeling,” Y/n said, her smile deepening as she leaned down to kiss her mother’s cheek, lingering just a little too long. Her skin is soft, she thought, and cold. Like a candle that’s been left to burn too long. But that’s alright. Y/n had warmth enough for both of them. She could give that to her. She would always take care of her mother.

Her lips brushed her mother’s cheek one last time before she pulled away, straightening her posture. "Rest, Mother," she whispered, her fingers trailing lightly over Aemma’s arm as she withdrew. “I’ll be back soon.”

As she left the chamber, Y/n's mind wandered. A king. My little brother will be a king, and he will love me more than anyone else. More than Rhaenyra ever could. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. Her brother, with silver hair like hers, riding a dragon she had chosen for him. She could already see it—the two of them, bounding, and nothing would ever come between them. This time there would be no rats like that cunt, Alicent.

But now... now she had other needs to attend to. A different kind of satisfaction.

She made her way through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, her mind already drifting to him. Her favorite. He’s always so eager for me, she thought with a smirk. So desperate to please, so desperate to be needed. She liked that about him—his submission, his willingness to do whatever she asked without question. And his hair... gods, his silver hair. It always reminded her of home.

She reached the brothels and paused at the door, her hand resting on the cold wood. Do I want him soft tonight? Or do I want to see him cry? She wasn’t sure yet. Maybe both. Maybe neither.

Pushing open the door, she stepped inside, her eyes immediately finding him. He was kneeling, waiting, as she had taught him to. His head bowed, silver hair falling into his eyes. The sight sent a flicker of warmth through her—something like affection, but sharper. He’s beautiful, she thought. Perfect.

"Look at me," she commanded softly, and he obeyed, lifting his head to meet her gaze. His eyes were wide, nervous. Good. She liked him that way.

"I’ve missed you," she purred, moving closer, her fingers already itching to thread through his hair. Yes, he’ll do well tonight. Maybe I’ll let him cum.

The smile that spread across her lips was soft, almost tender. I am always kind.

The room was dark, the air thick with the remnants of sleep. Y/n stirred under the silk sheets, her body warm, still damp from the night’s indulgences. Her skin glowed faintly in the low light, the satisfaction of her desires lingering like an aftertaste. She let out a sigh, stretching lazily, the weight of Aelor’s body no longer pressed against hers.

Then she heard it. A faint sound—something off. Her eyes snapped open, sharp, awake.

Aelor stood at the foot of the bed, naked but trembling, a dagger held to his throat. His silver hair was messy, his chest rising and falling quickly, eyes wild with panic.

She sat up slowly, letting the sheets fall from her body, completely unbothered by her nakedness. Her gaze locked onto the dagger, her voice calm, almost disinterested. "Aelor," she said softly, “put that away.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he shook harder, his knuckles white around the handle of the blade. “I can’t,” he whispered, his voice shaking. "I can’t do this anymore."

Y/n frowned, her brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?"

Aelor let out a sob, his knees buckling as he stumbled backward, pressing the dagger harder against his skin. “You—you’ve made me miserable! Every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m dying. You’re cruel, you’re wicked, and you’ve taken everything from me! I hate you!”

Y/n blinked, her head tilting slightly, almost like she was confused. “You hate me?” she repeated, the words foreign to her. No one hated her. How could they? She was perfect. Is this a joke? She didn’t like it.

“Yes!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “You’ve ruined me! I want to die! I want to end it, right here, right now!”

For a moment, she just stared at him, her mind racing. This is ridiculous. He’s being ridiculous.

"Aelor," she said, her voice low, almost soothing. "Stop this nonsense. I can give you anything you want. Do you want gold? A dragon egg? A house by the sea? Just put the dagger down and tell me what you want."

But he shook his head violently, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t want any of that! I want to die! I want to be free of you!”

Die? The word was distant to her. Why would he want that? He has everything. She shifted, the furs slipping from her as she regarded him coolly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Aelor. You have a good life. You’re mine. What could be so bad about that?”

But he wasn’t listening. His breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he teetered on the edge of some terrible decision. “I can’t... I can’t... I want this to stop. I want—”

And then she heard it. A whisper. Faint, from the other side of the door.

“The queen… she’s gone.”

Her heart stopped.

Everything froze. The room, Aelor, the very air around her seemed to still as the words sank in.

"The queen is dead," came another hushed voice from outside the door. "Died in the birthing bed."

The words hit Y/n like a physical blow, sinking deep into her chest. Dead? No. Not Mother.

The room spun, and suddenly her world collapsed in on itself, like a dying star pulling everything into its cold, black heart. Her breathing quickened. She blinked fast, too fast. Her mother was gone. Her mother was gone.

No.

She felt her throat tighten, the air in the room thick and heavy, pressing against her skin. Her vision blurred, the walls seeming to warp and bend. She could hear something—an incessant buzzing in her ears, like bees trapped inside her skull, buzzing louder and louder until it drowned out everything else.

Y/n’s world collapsed inward. The sound of blood rushing in her ears, louder and louder, a deafening buzz. Her vision blurred, the room swimming, spinning. Mother. Mother is dead. She’s gone.

She tried to shake her head, tried to clear the sound, but it wouldn’t stop. The room was too bright. Too small. Too loud.

Her chest tightened, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the edges of her world shrank, leaving only the endless ringing in her ears and the hollow, aching emptiness that stretched out before her.

Gone.

Blinking rapidly, she shook her head, trying to clear it, but the buzzing only grew louder, drowning out everything else. She wanted to scream, wanted to tear the walls apart, to make everything stop, but her body wouldn’t move. Her hands twitched, her fingers curling into the sheets, the fabric slipping through her grasp as if it wasn’t even there.

And then, through the haze, she saw Aelor again, standing there, still holding the dagger to his throat, still crying, still screaming for a release that didn’t matter anymore.

For a moment, she just looked at him. Her mind was blank, her heart hollow. Then, like ice breaking through, her lips twisted into something resembling a smile, cold and sharp.

“You know what?” she said softly, her voice almost sweet. “You should do it.”

Aelor blinked, his tears stopping momentarily as confusion washed over his face. “W-what?”

“Go on,” she urged, her voice a low, deadly whisper now. “Slide it across your throat. End it, like you said.”

His face paled, and the dagger in his hand shook. “No… I don’t—”

“I’m not asking.” Her voice was like steel, cold and unyielding, her eyes dark and focused on him with terrifying intensity. “I’m telling you. Do it.”

“Y/n, please—”

“Do it!” Her voice cracked, sharp and vicious. “You want to die, don’t you? You hate me, don’t you? Well, go ahead, Aelor. Do it. Kill yourself. Right here, right now.”

He stumbling back, eyes wide with terror. “No… I don’t want to—”

Y/n stood, the sheet slipping from her naked body as she stepped forward, her eyes locked on his. “Oh, but you were so sure a moment ago. You were so brave.” Her voice was mocking now, cruel and sadistic. “What happened, Aelor? Where did all that courage go?”

He whimpered, pressing himself against the wall as if he could disappear into it, his eyes wide with horror.

And Y/n’s smile widened, her gaze never leaving his. "Do it," she whispered again, her voice now laced with something dark, something cold. Like Mother’s skin. Cold like her.

Criston stood outside the king’s chamber, listening to the muffled sobs of the king as he grieved for his dead wife. It was a sound that shook him—a king reduced to tears, broken by a loss so profound that even Criston, found himself feeling an unfamiliar weight in his chest.

Rhaenyra sat silently beside her father, pale and stiff, like a statue carved from stone. But Y/n was nowhere to be found.

"Where is she?" the king whispered, his voice hoarse. "Where is Y/n?"

Rhaenyra lifted her eyes, but said nothing, her gaze distant, lost. She was mourning too.

Criston stepped forward, his hand instinctively tightening around the pommel of his sword. He knew where the princess was. He always knew. She had a… pattern.

Viserys looked up, his eyes red and swollen. "Find her. Bring her back."

Criston nodded, his expression calm but his insides twisting. "Yes, my king." He turned swiftly, leaving the room with heavy steps, his mind already racing. The brothel. She's at the brothel.

He moved with purpose, the corridors of the Red Keep passing in a blur as he descended into the streets of King's Landing. The brothel was well know, a place where she often disappeared when the weight of her world became too much. The place where she would indulge in the pleasures that soothed her disturbed soul. Criston had been there many times—always to fetch her, to drag her back to the world she so desperately wanted to escape.

The madam greeted him at the door, her face a practiced mask of indifference. She knew why he was here. She always knew.

"The princess?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.

The madam didn’t even blink. "Upstairs. First room on the left."

Criston didn’t wait for more. He strode through the dimly lit hall, the stench of sweat, wine, and sex thick in the air. His heart pounded harder with each step, the weight of dread settling in his gut. He knew Y/n's moods—her recklessness—but something felt different this time. Something was wrong.

He reached the door, pushing it open without hesitation. The sight before him made his breath catch in his throat.

The man, her lover, lay sprawled on the floor, his throat slit from ear to ear, blood pooling beneath him like a dark, crimson lake. The smell of death hit him instantly—metallic, thick, suffocating.

And there, in the center of the room, sat Y/n. Naked, her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her skin was stained with blood—his blood—and in her hand, she still clutched the dagger. Her face was blank, hollow, as if all life had drained from her.

Criston’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. Gods. What has she done?

Without thinking, he rushed to her side, kneeling in the blood, ignoring the way it soaked into his white cloak, staining it red. His hands were shaking as he reached for her, gently trying to pry the dagger from her grip. "My princess… Y/n… what have you done?" His voice was soft, filled with worry, but there was no judgment, no anger. Only concern. Only devotion.

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even look at him. Her eyes were distant, staring ahead as if she were seeing something far beyond this room, far beyond the dead body at her feet.

Criston’s heart raced as he pulled the bloodied dagger from her hand, tossing it aside. He reached for the corner of his cloak, the pristine white fabric now ruined, and began to gently wipe the blood from her skin. His hands moved with care, as if she were fragile—like a porcelain doll that might shatter at any moment.

"My princess," he whispered again, his voice tight with desperation. "It's me, Criston. It’s all right. You’re safe. I’m here."

But she still didn’t respond. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes unblinking. Criston could see the toll it was taking on her, the way her body shook faintly with each breath. She looked… lost. Like the little girl she had once been, scared and small.

“I want to go home,” she whispered, her voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it.

He froze, his hand stilling on her arm as he looked at her. She didn’t meet his gaze, didn’t seem to even recognize him.

“I want to go home to my mother,” she repeated, her voice breaking, fragile, as if she were clinging to some distant hope.

Criston’s heart shattered. The queen. He knew the news hadn’t reached her yet. Her world had been her mother, and now… The queen was gone.

He swallowed hard, blinking back the sting in his eyes as he reached for a cloak from the bed, wrapping it carefully around her naked body, covering her from the cold that seemed to seep into her skin. "You’ll go home," he whispered, his voice trembling just slightly. "I’ll take you home."

With a soft grunt, he lifted her into his arms, her body limp and unresponsive as he held her against his chest. She was so small, so light. He hated seeing her like this. She was always so strong, so sharp. But now… now she was silent, and it terrified him.

He held her tightly, cradling her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, his white cloak now drenched in blood as he carried her through the brothel.

The madam said nothing as they passed, and the other patrons kept their eyes averted. Criston’s face was set, his jaw clenched, his eyes forward.

I’ll take her home. It's alright. Everything would be fine.

Even if the rest of the world collapsed around them, he would be there. Always. For her. Only for her.

As they left the brothel behind, he felt her shift slightly in his arms, her breath warm against his neck.

“I’ll take you home, princess,” he whispered again, more to himself than to her. "You don't need to be scared anymore."

Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[little-diable]

God’s Garden - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

A small priest drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader always imagines being touched by Priest Riddle, something he finally does when she confesses her sins.

Warnings: 18+, dubcon, smut, being touched for the first time, virgin!reader, religious setting

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (1.6k words)

“He’s so good looking, isn’t he?” She had her eyes set on him as her friend whispered the words, unable to bite down a giggle. He was indeed good looking, towering over all others like a statue of a godlike figure, drawing all eyes towards him wherever he went.

“Stop it!” (Y/n) tugged on her friend’s wrist with a laugh, not wanting to gain the attention of the tall priest who was now looking at the two young women from afar. She shot him a soft smile before turning from him, knowing that heat was crawling up her body like water rising higher and higher, set on drowning her in the sinful longing she felt.

“Oh god, he’s coming over.” (Y/n)’s eyes snapped towards Priest Riddle’s frame, watching him push through the crowd of people, mumbling words she couldn’t hear. The burning down sun coated him in a soft light, adding an aurora that perfectly contrasted his black suit.

“Afternoon, (y/n), Mandy.” His raspy voice made her clench her thighs, grateful that she was wearing a long dress that hid most parts of her body from his intense gaze. She didn’t hear the words her friend mumbled, leaving (y/n) alone with the tall priest.

“Your mother told me you made those brownies?” He took a step closer as he spoke, letting her take in the scent of his cologne. She struggled to focus on his words, having to scream at herself not to get lost in thoughts God would curse her for.

“I did, Priest Riddle.” Her soft smile left him chuckling. Two necklaces dangled from his neck, a cross and what appeared to be a dark rosary she hadn’t seen him wear so far, drawing her eyes towards them as if they were a swinging pendulum foretelling her future.

„Well, they’re heavenly, sweetheart.“ Priest Riddle‘s hand found her wrist, softly squeezing the warm skin. The touch sent a buzzing sensation down her spine, making goosebumps rise on her arms and neck as if she was freezing. He was a God, a man so powerful and intimidating, she still wondered how she managed to speak a single word to him.

“Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.” Another raspy laugh left him. A sound that reminded her of last night’s wandering thoughts, where she imagined him holding her close, whispering words no man had ever said to her.

“Do you still want me to take your confession tonight?” No longer could she hold eye contact, struck by the nervousness she couldn’t shake. It had been a stupid mistake, asking him to take her sins from her - sins he was the cause of. A foolish mistake to speak those words to him, knowing that she’d have to tell him of the things she imagined him doing to her.

“Oh, I don’t know.” His hand squeezed her wrist again, forcing her eyes back to him. Priest Riddle’s eyes wandered over her features, taking in every spot she always tried to hide.

“I have time, why don’t we do it now? The others are busy anyway.” He didn’t give her a chance to say no. With a smile playing on his lips, that somehow had a sinister touch to it, he pulled (y/n) from the church gathering, and towards another part of the big garden.

“Aren’t we doing it in the confessional?” It took him a moment to reply as he led her towards a bench that was surrounded by tall growing flowers. No longer could she see the others, hidden from curious eyes and nosy ears that tried to take in everything people spoke in the church.

“Why a confessional when we are surrounded by God’s finest creations. So, speak to me, (y/n). What lies heavy on your heart?” Her nervousness robbed her of her breath, forcing her eyes to snap down to his hand which was now resting on her knee. Priest Riddle had never touched her like this, he had always kept his distance as if he knew what she was thinking of late at night - a teasing distance she had always cursed. Up until today.

“I, well,” she heavily swallowed, focused on the patterns his thumb was drawing into the fabric of her dress. Heat simmered in (y/n)’s stomach, threatening to spill through her system like sacred wine staining the white cloth covering their altar, leaving stains that may never fade again. “I have sinful thoughts.”

“What kind of thoughts, (y/n)?” She could tell that he was enjoying this, the way she shuffled around on her spot, how she kept staring at his hand, how she had to stop her hand from touching him.

“About being touched.” It was just a whisper, rolling off her tongue before she could stop herself. She was sure that her face was hot, leaving her shaking while his grasp on her knee grew tighter.

“Touched how?” His tongue kissed his teeth before his smile grew wider, dripping with a darkness that left her shaking. He had her trapped, there was no way out of Priest Riddle’s grasp on her body and soul. “Like this?”

His hand wandered up her thigh, softly stroking the fabric while she buried her teeth in her lower lip. (Y/n) could only shake her head, knowing that she would struggle to explain to him how she imagined him touching her, unfamiliar with all these kinds of sensations.

“Take my hand, show me where, (y/n).” Her hand was shaking, trembling while finding his warm, big one. He interlaced his fingers with hers as she let go of a shaky breath. And with her eyes flickering up to his darkening ones, (y/n) brought his hand up her thigh, towards her clothed heat. The raspy chuckle ripping through him made her straighten her spine, wondering what he’d do to her.

“Have you ever been touched before, sweetheart?” (Y/n) once again shook her head.

A soft gasp left her as his fingers pressed against her core, teasing her through the layers of clothing. Her left hand found the edge of the bench, needing to hold onto something, while the other found his wrist. She didn’t move his hand away, only kept holding onto him as if she had to make sure that this wasn’t just a dream.

“You see, (y/n), this is nothing sinful, nothing you need to be ashamed of.” His fingers pressed against her bundle of nerves, making a quiet moan claw through her. Guided by his chuckles and her gasps, he added more pressure to his touch.

“Tell me what you think of, (y/n). What do you feel when you think of being touched?” His voice grew lower, adding a raspy layer she’d never forget about again. With her breath hitched in her chest, she let him spread her thighs further, giving his hand more room to rest between them.

“It makes me crave more, I feel light, loved by you.” It left her before she could stop the word from being spoken out loud. She felt his eyes on her face, drawing her eyes to him to study the sinister smile that grew more dangerous by the second. The words had pushed her into a grave, a grave she had dug for herself and will never be able to crawl out of again.

“You imagine me doing it?” A nod was thrown his way before another moan left her. Her body was tingling, focused on the way he moved his fingers faster, making her panties grow damp. She had never managed to go further than this, pulling her fingers from her panties before she could fall over the edge, scared of what was awaiting her.

But today she wasn’t scared. Today she craved the sensation she had read about many times before. A part of her had hoped that she’d experience the first one with him, a slim chance that had now suddenly turned all too real.

“You know, I think of touching you too, sweetheart. I crave to hear those sweet sounds you make, I wonder how soft your skin will feel beneath my fingers, I touch myself to the thought of fucking you.” The gasp that ripped through her was loud, louder than intended. But Priest Riddle didn’t stop touching her, he only added more pressure, forcing her hand to find his forearm to claw her fingernails into his skin.

She could tell that the high was close, about to claw through her as if the Devil himself was possessing her, leading her straight towards the fiery pits. But she’d take it all, every high and low - if it meant being touched like this by Priest Riddle.

“My sweet girl, there is much I will have to teach you. But you’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?” The “Yes, Priest Riddle” she sobbed was violent, shaking through (y/n) while her body finally let go.

The sensation was blinding, making spots appear in her vision while his fingers kept moving, lazily circling her pulsing bundle while she rode out her first orgasm. Her body emenated heat, wrapping itself around the two while their minds held onto the sinful act they had just committed. Sins both would confess the next time they found themselves on their knees praying.

“Come by tomorrow evening for your next confession, sweetheart. And don’t forget your rosary.”

[mtcloudsworld]

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | none, black!fem reader, husband!dickgrayson, it's just funny how mother nature works...Don't mind me lol 😭😂 this just randomly came to mind and I needed to put this somewhere. Edited, but please ignore any errors, ty. Enjoy!!!

"Shit, he's kicking..."

You say standing before the full body mirror, admiring your bare, swollen stomach to watch a foot press flush from the inside out against your belly.

You could see the outline of where his foot was pressing and decided to trace your nail along it. Giggling a little when you feel the baby squirm a little, clearly interacting with them.

Although it did hurt a little you couldn't help but smile enduringly at the weird interaction.

It was late at night when nightwing─ Dick Grayson, your lovely husband had came back from patrol, already out of the shower in only his pajama pants smelling like mint and old spice.

You were already dressed in his old black guns n' roses shirt and boxers with your bonnet on smelling like jasmine and vanilla from your shower earlier.

You were a night owl at heart so Dick wasn't surprised to see you still up.

All night, you were relaxing, enjoying your peace. Did a little bit of cleaning and organizing here and there, tidying up a bit before settling yourself down for bed. And when Dick finally arrives back home, the little bundle of joy decides to disrupt your peace.

"Is he finally awake?" You heard footsteps come from behind.

Then warmth presses up against your back, feeling the tough exterior of his chest pressed against your back and suddenly surrounded by his strong bulging arms, tender hands smoothing along the roundness of your stomach to feel your body lean into his protective embrace. "Yeah, he was quiet all day until...' you then glanced at him through the body mirror, watching as he planted kisses near the side of your face, ear, neck and jawline. "Not that he ever moves to the sound of my voice but...he's more excited when you're around."

"Hm," he smirks proudly, a daddy's boy perhaps?

"He recognizes my voice. He missed papa." Dick mumbled coddling you with his face buried between your neck, swaying your bodies sweetly.

It was quiet for a moment. Enjoying his tender, sweet love and affection towards you.

You're mind began to wander out of the blew.

"...Baby?"

"Hm?"

"What if 'he' is actually a 'she' ?"

The question makes his head pop up.

"Then... she recognizes my voice." He corrects.

And that brought a smile to your face, turning your head a little to make eye contact with him, challenging him.

"But... what if 'she' is actually a 'he' ?"

And he deadpans, "babe, really?"

"What? I'm just asking!─ "

"No, no, no, you are not "just asking" and we're not doing this again, tonight." He states, shaking his head in disapproval yet still wore a smile on his face. "We're not doing this at..." He turns to look at the digital clock in the nightstand before glancing at you "...1:30 in the morning where I answer all of your questions till your mind feels satisfied and then be up all night because you suddenly can't go to sleep. No, it's not happening."

"Okay but wait, listen," you pout, turning to face him completely. "I get that we wanted the baby to be a surprise but... I just can't help but wonder what if he is actually a she, or if she is actually he????"

"That's why we bought neutral colored clothes and other necessities for a reason, so we wouldn't have to worry about that" He nods, pointing towards the preoccupied corner filled with amazon boxes and gift bags of baby stuff that has yet to be set up and put away, call it laziness.

"Yeah but I feel bad that I keep calling the baby he when it could possibly be a she."

"Babe, you're overthinking this way too much right now." He stresses with a heavy sigh.

When he noticed the look of worry/pout on your face, he reaches up to cup your face. Stroking at your cheeks back and forth to slowly feel its smooth texture graze along his soft yet slightly calloused palms. "Look, whether they are a boy or a girl, all they need to know is that their parents love them very much and will do any and everything to keep them safe and sound. No matter what, they're always gonna be cared for."

You sigh, shoulders relaxing. You hate that he's always right. Always know the right words to say. It honestly makes you stand back and feel like a fool at times but you know that dick didn't see it in that way, you were just...an over-thinker at heart.

"Yeah, you're right...." You finalized, looking down to your belly, feeling the baby move once more and rub your hands over the swell of your stomach. "I want them out of me already. I wanna see if they'll have your face." You gleamed, glancing back up at him.

Dick chuckles, "You say that now..." and turns to walk back to the bathroom.

"I'm serious, Dick."

"Mhm, yeah, sure, if you say so."

"You want them out just as badly as I do, so don't even." You stated pointedly, your finger directed towards him with a playful yet warning look.

"I do, but I'm patient about it..." He then frowns a little when you give him a look, one that asked "are you sure about that?" , "...oooorrrrr at least I think I am." He sighs, "I'm just enjoying these last few moments baby free until time says otherwise." He clears up, turning back to the sink to start washing the dirt and grime off his face.

Patience was key right now.

As much as both of you wanted to see your first child come into this world, both of you were still enjoying your time baby free. You, obviously, were in a rush to get them out of you. Dick also was ready to get them out of you, but he was enjoying his freedom.

Once he finished washing his face he started brushing his teeth, hearing the TV play lightly in the background whilst you prepared yourself for bed.

He was in his own head, thinking of who his baby could possibly look more like. Deep down inside he wanted a babygirl. Wanted her to look just like you, mocha skin, dark curls and blue eyes and that beautiful smile of yours. He had an assumption that she was gonna be bold, confident, funny, smart, stubborn and driven with determination. She was, of course, gonna be a mixture of both of you.

Just as Dick spits the paste out in the sink, he hears a sudden splash against the wooden floor. He smiles while wiping his mouth with the face towel and jokingly asks, "Did you spill water again? I swear to god, woman.." he huffs, turning the light off, "if I had a dollar for every time you spill water, I'd be richer than Bruce." Dramatic ass.

Dick was gonna say way more but when he comes around the corner and halts in place, frowning and staring at what's before him...he feels his heart drop.

"D-Dick...?"

You could barely utter a word, barely say his name above a terrified whisper. You were so stuck in shock that you barely recognized the pain shooting through your body at first, legs shaking and soaking wet...as if someone had splashed water all over them.

And like on cue, you both make eye contact.

"My water just broke." You say nervously with shaky breaths, holding onto the dresser for leverage as you feel yourself start to buckle.

And Dick, out of shock, fear and terror, utters, "I WAS JUST KIDDING!!!"

"I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN LITERALLY!!!"

After all the numerous phone calls, rushing you to the hospital and being by your side for the entirety of the process, it was safe to say the pregnancy was a success.

Mr and Mrs. Grayson welcomed a healthy babygirl.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[tpwk-formula1]

Hello! Can make an order for cauliflower crust, with red sauce, toppings of sausage, basil, banana peppers, spinach, toasted mushrooms, roasted artichokes, bbq chicken, cherry tomatoes and turkey sausage with diet coke, water and truly and yes for the dessert. Served by Toto Wolff. 🤭Thank you. ❤️

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

cauliflower crust sunshine x grumpy red sauce rough sex sausage "Better not waste a drop" turkey sausage "Only the best for my girl" basil "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" cherry tomatoes "I can't wait to watch you swell with my babies" banana peppers "Look so pretty riding my cock" spinach "Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock" roasted mushrooms “Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy” roasted artichokes “im gonna put a baby in you” bbq chicken “Gonna let me cum in you? I know you wanna have my baby” coke spanking water breeding kink truly belly bulge dessert yes served by Toto Wolff

Toto x Sunshine! gf Reader

TW - fingering, oral (f receiving), multi orgasms, belly bulge, creampie, pregnancy

WC 1800+

Y/N POV

"Y/N get back up here," I hear Toto roughly tell me making me giggle as I continue into our closet ignoring the grumpy man.

"Patience, Toto," I tell him softly before closing the closet door behind me so Toto couldn't see what I was doing.

"Liebe, you've just been grinding on me for the past 15 minutes, that feels like plenty of patience," I hear Toto groan making me giggle while I continue to strip into the new lingerie set I wanted to show to Toto.

"You'll love it," I reply back softly but still being loud enough so Toto can hear.

"I would probably love it more if you were still in my lap," Toto groaned back while I opened the door to reveal the new lingerie set I had picked up when I went to the mall earlier in the day.

"I mean, I can put my other clothes back on and get back on your lap," I joke softly to Toto making him groan and throw his head back slightly.

"Fuck, im gonna put a baby in you,” Toto groans making me smirk softly before climbing back into his lap.

"You would love that huh?" I joke slightly making Toto look at me seriously.

"No, liebe I'm being serious, you will be the mother of my children in the next year if I can help it," Toto tells me softly making me start grinding into his lap again, the thought of being pregnant with Toto's babies turning me on further.

"Fuck with the way you're grinding on me you're gonna have let me cum in you. I know you wanna have my baby," Toto groans making me pull him in for a kiss.

"Yes, cum in me tonight," I beg softly, grinding down harder into Toto's lap needing more stimulation.

"I just realized when we have a baby you're really gonna be daddy Toto," I saw with a smirk making Toto roll his eyes at my antics.

"Oh shush you," Toto teases while pulling me back in for a kiss. I was pulling at the white tee Toto was wearing needing it off.

"I wanna touch you please," I gasp against Toto's lips when he holds my hands away from his body.

"You already are," Toto says while pulling back slightly and giving me a raised brow.

"I need more," I whine bouncing in his lap slightly.

"Look like a child throwing a tantrum," Toto says with a pointed look. He wasn't wrong with the way I was bouncing in his lap and whining I looked like a child who was just told no at the candy shop.

"Please, Toto," I beg again while tugging at the end of his shirt making him roll his eyes but still sit up slightly to full his shirt off making me smile.

I'm instantly rubbing my hands up and down Toto's chest and stomach humming softly in contentment.

Toto pulls me back in for a kiss letting my hands continue to wander while I'm grinding down on Toto's hard cock.

"Please, I wanna ride you," I beg against Toto's lips where he just pulls back and smirks softly before he turns me over so my back is against the mattress with Toto between my thighs above me.

Toto is running his large fingers over the pretty lingerie set groaning when his fingers brush over my peaked nipples making me gasp as the feeling.

"Please," I whine and buck my hips trying to get Toto's face where I need him.

"Patience, love," Toto gruffs out making me whine slightly but stop my bucking.

Toto starts trailing kisses around my lower tummy and to my inner thighs before he places a soft kiss on my covered pussy making me moan softly. Toto wasted no time in pulling my lingerie set to the side and diving her tongue in.

"Oh Toto," I moan when I feel Toto pull my clit into his mouth sucking on it.

"So good," I'm gasping when Toto slips two fingers deep into my pussy.

"Fuck, I can feel you clenching," Toto groans, speeding up his actions.

"Toto, I'm getting close," I moan out when I feel my orgasm creeping up only making Toto speed up his actions on my pussy making me scream out as I fall over the edge cumming all over Toto's fingers.

Once Toto helps me ride my orgasm out he pulls his fingers out and quickly shoves them into my mouth making me lick them clean before he shoves them farther down my throat making me gag around them. He just smirks at me slightly before he pulls his fingers out letting me breath properly.

"Thank you," I gasp out once I've caught my breath.

"Only the best for my girl," Toto groans making me smile. Toto starts pulling my lingerie set off making sure to be gentle to not rip any of the delicate fabric.

"I think that is the slowest you have ever undressed me," I tease making Toto give me a pointed look before a smile breaks out on his face.

"I wanna see you in it when you're pregnant with my baby," Toto said with a smirk making me giggle softly. Once I am completely bare under Toto he climbs out of bed and pulls his briefs off leaving him completely bare for my eyes to rake over.

"God, you have no shame," Toto says making me look up at him as my face turns red.

"You look so good," I reply back letting my eyes trail over his body once again, making Toto laugh softly.

Toto comes back to where I'm lying on my back before he roughly flips me over onto my hands and knees before I feel him land a harsh slap on my ass making me whimper slightly.

"Oh fuck," I moan when I feel him send down another slap on the other cheek.

"I love this perfect ass," Toto says roughly while gripping my ass in his hands before he sends both of his hands down on my ass making me moan at the feeling, each slap going start to my core.

Once Toto has slapped and rubbed my ass enough he finally sips his cock deep into my core making me moan when I feel him push all the way in.

"Oh fuck," I moan loudly making Toto speed his thrusts up quickly turning my moans into silent screams.

"Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock," Toto teases while pounding into my harder knwoing when we first got together he was far to large to be able to fuck me like this.

"Fuck," I scream when Toto starts hitting my sweet spot over and over again.

"Can I ride please," I beg through strangled breathes.

"Fuck yes," Toto groans while flipping our bodies so I was riding his cock.

"Oh god," I moan when I'm fully sitting on Toto's cock and he's hitting all my sweet spots in a different angle.

"Look so pretty riding my cock," Toto groans out as I continue bouncing on his cock finally finding my tempo.

"Oh! Toto," I scream out when Toto starts thrusting up to meet my thrusts making everything more intense.

I could feel another orgasm building up making me start clenching around Toto in preparation.

"Fuck, how are you already gonna cum again," Toto groans now using my body to bounce him on my cock.

"Please," I cry out feeling myself right on the edge of cumming.

"Cum for me," Toto groans out making me cry out as I start cumming all over Toto's cock. I was cumming so hard that some of my pleasure even squirted out soaking Toto's abdomen.

"Fuck! God, you get impossibly tight every time you cum around my cock," Toto groans as he lifts me off his cock making me whimper at the loss. But I am quickly moaning again when Toto flips us over and shoves his cock back into my pussy once we were situated in missionary.

"Toto," I moan out when Toto starts fucking into my pussy at a brutal pace instantly stealing my breath away.

“Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy,” Toto says making me look down to notice the small bump of his cock fucking into me making me moan. After several years of Toto and I being together it wasn't an uncommon sight but fuck did it turn me on everytime I noticed it.

"Fuck, please," I gasp not really sure what I was asking for.

"Already cum twice tonight and still begging for more," Toto groans sending a harsh slap down on my inner thigh making me whimper which is quickly replaced with a moan when Toto brings his fingers down to my clit and gives it a little rub.

"So good," I whine.

"You wanna cum for me?" Toto grunts out making me moan a quick yes.

"Cum with me," Toto grunts speeding his thrusts up making me instantly fall over the edge pulling Toto with me both of us cumming together.

"Fuck," Toto and I moan at the same time. Toto made sure to ride our orgasms out before he quickly slips out of my sore pussy watching his cum start to leak from my pussy.

"I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy, but tonight I want as much as possible to stay in and you better not waste a drop" Toto tells me while pushing some of it back in with his fingers making me whine in overstimulation.

Once Toto slips his fingers back out he offers them to me making me wrap my lips around his two fingers and sucking them clean tasting mostly Toto's cum but I can also get a hint of my pleasure in there as well.

Toto quickly slips out of bed getting a rag to clean me up before climbing back into bed and pulling me to his chest.

"Do you really want a baby?" I question softly making Toto laugh softly.

"Yes," Toto simply states before pulling me in tighter and both of us letting sleep consume us.

5 weeks later

"Toto, you bloody bastard! You actually got me fucking pregnant," I saw while the both of us stare down at the positive pregnancy test.

When I look back up at Toto he has a massive smirk across his face before he's pulling me into his chest letting my back rest against his chest while he rubs small circles on my tummy.

"I can't wait to watch you swell with my babies," Toto tells me softly as I watch his hands rub across my tummy making me realize just how real this all is.

"There's a baby in there," I say softly while putting my hands over Toto's soaking in the moment a little longer.

"I hope it's a little girl," Toto tells me softly making a smile spread across my face.

"I'll be happy with whatever but I would love a little girl," I tell Toto softly making him smile with me.

[bowtiepasta]

SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWGIRL ⛰︎ ོ you know what they say… only a woman knows how to treat a woman right. “got any cowgirl in ya? want some?” — SHOKO IEIRI

smut! 𐚁 minors and ageless blogs do not interact. indulging: afab and f!reader (she/her), arranged marriage, fingering, oral, thigh riding, drinking, you wear a skirt, #wlw

word count: 1,397

romy’s note: lesbians eat what?!

tomorrow, you’d be a wife. tonight, you were just a girl with shaky hands and a good liver.

“you planning to marry that poor boy hungover?”

her tracks are muddy, faint half-moons against the floor your mother scrubbed every morning. you wipe your palms down your skirt, eyes on the swinging doors, expecting a wobbly stray to storm through.

“I’ll rally,” you say, voice rough from too many shots of your father’s gutrot whiskey. “done worse.”

shoko hums, flicks ash out the window. the cigarette tip lights her profile soft orange. she smelled like everything familiar and terrible and good — like old afternoons, salty tears, and the stale shampoo they keep in the bunkhouse showers.

“you sure?” she mocks. “he’s gonna be real happy when you puke on his boots at the altar.”

“you shouldn't be here,” your fingers twitch toward the shuttered window out of habit. sherrif’s boys were known to stay out late wandering.

she shrugs like she wasn’t a dead man’s name on a dozen bounty posters pinned to fence posts from here to god knows where.

“came to wish you well,” she counters, a white lie. “and maybe get drunk enough to forget you’re marrying that twitchy little banker.”

you smile despite yourself. it made your mouth hurt.

“why?” you ask, voice cracking at the ends. “you didn’t stay to say goodbye the last time.”

her mouth pulls taut. something like guilt, or maybe just the bane memory of it.

“you were never gonna leave this place,” she says, tipping her head upward, where the piano had faintly started up again, crooked and sad. “I was.”

she pushes off the doorframe and walks in until she stands on the other side of the bar. the heavy smell of stale beer and woodsmoke lived in the bones of the place and seeped into your skin.

you swallow. the air between you stretches thin, sticky with all the words you hadn’t said two years ago when she first rode out and never came back.

“you could’ve asked me to go,” you breathe.

shoko leans close, palms braced flat on the wood, close enough you see the subtle scar along her jaw, new since you last saw her.

“you’d have said yes,” she says in an undertone far too lonely for your liking. “I wasn’t gonna do that to you.”

with her injured horse stabled down the street and nowhere else to turn, she figured a quick stop wouldn’t hurt. and boy, was she wrong.

she looks at you, as if remembering her own name.

“c’mere.”

a beat.

“c’mere, sweetheart,” she repeats, tired, thumb dragging over your knuckles. “one last time.”

you did. stupidly fast, pressing your forehead into her shoulder and looping your fingers into her belt loops.

her fingers fit into the dip of your waist like she’d known exactly where they belonged this whole time.

you yank her belt loose with clumsy hands, the heavy buckle thudding against her thigh. she laughs into your cheek, and you swear you feel your heart stop.

one hand braces at your jaw while her thumb rubs at the hinge of it, nails short and uneven from where she’d chewed. shoko tilts your face up and examines you, checking a calf for broken bones.

she lifts you back onto the bar stool — it rattles the screws. “you’re gonna get me killed.”

you smile, starting on her buttons.

“wasn’t planning on letting you live forever anyway.”

her palms leave dry prints on your hips, and when she kneels between your legs, the floorboards creak under her knees. the piano upstairs doesn’t stop.

outside, a dog barks once, sharp and distant. the fan keeps spinning. shoko doesn’t stop.

the bar digs into your spine, her hands already up your skirt, callouses skimming up your thighs. she works fast, but not rushed — the way someone does a job they know by heart.

“fuck,” she shudders, finding you already slick when she pulls your panties down. you kick them off blindly, heels dry-scraping the tablesides.

“gonna make you forget your own name,” she mutters, almost to herself. you hear it all.

her mouth is on you before you could say anything smart, biting a line up your legs, marking you like the goddamn animal she was.

you tug her hat off, toss it onto the floor. her hair’s damp at the roots, stuck to her forehead where the night heat had decided to settle.

“thought you were here just to drink,” you gasp.

shoko grins against your hip, teeth scraping sensitive skin. “changed my mind.”

she pushes a finger into you, palm grinding the way she knew you liked — the way she remembers.

it’s filthy, the wet sound of it, loud in the quiet remains of the closing hours. someone upstairs laughs— a sharp bark — makes your heart nip at your ribs and bottom lip bleed.

“stay quiet,” she shushes, kissing up your stomach, smudging her lipstick all over. “or don’t. might be the only good story I leave this town with.”

you bite your own hand to muffle the sound when her fingers curled just right, rough and sure inside you. she watches you the entire time, catching every little twitch, every whimper.

“still so fuckin’ pretty,” she slides up, kisses you again — deep, open-mouthed, desperate. so desperate.

your hands fumble at her pants and she helps, hitching her hips to shove them down for you.

you wrap your legs around her, dragging her in. the first press of her hips against yours punched a sound out of you that you barely recognized.

you shove at her until she gets the hint, letting you manhandle her onto the other stool. it creaks under her weight, one of the legs uneven — it’s been needing fixing for months.

shoko leans back, pants open, shirt rumpled, thighs spread loose. she cleans you off of her mouth, eyes glittering under the low lamplight.

“c’mon then,” she tilts her head, ever the cocky bastard. “take what you need.”

you climb into her lap, skirt bunched up around your waist, straddling one of her bare thighs. you move once, dragging your cunt along the muscle of her thigh, and your whole body jerks at how good it feels.

shoko hisses through her teeth, clawing at your hips, locking you down onto her.

“juuust like that,” she coos, voice wrecked.

you grind down harder, chasing the friction, the bone sliding right against your clit, relentless. the room tilts around you, too hot, too loud in your own head.

shoko slips a hand between you, fingers sliding through your folds, thumb catching you right at the top. she barely had to do any work with the way you were rocking against her.

“you’re dripping all over me,” she says, smug.

you come grinding against her thigh, thighs trembling, breathing like you’d been shot. shoko keeps her hand on you, pressing through every little aftershock until you sagged entirely spent against her.

but she wasn’t finished.

shoko steadies your thighs over her shoulders like she was settling into church pews.

her tongue laps through the mess she’d already made, nosing into the soft parts, tongue flicking away because she’s cruel — always has been. you whimper, try to close your legs, and she just tightens her grip, nails digging in enough to sting.

“you’re gonna be a good wife,” she sighs, bitter while inside you. “better get used to being taken apart.”

you barely hear her — too far gone, legs trembling, toes curling in your boots.

you come again, hips bucking up off the stool. she holds you down with her whole damn body. doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow, working you through it ‘till your thighs are spasming by her ears.

when you push weakly at her shoulders, she finally pulls back with a small, satisfied noise, chin glistening. she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning up at you like the kid she still was.

you gripped the edge of the bar behind you, the wood worn smooth from years of your father’s hands, and realized hers would never be allowed here again.

“you’re an outlaw,” you said matter-of-factly. “you’re wanted in three counties.”

“four.” she pulls the gold band off of your ring finger and kisses the bruise it leaves.

“but you always did love trouble.”

hello from april 28th i’m in the trenches and seasonal depression is kicking my ass. need a hot lesbian cowgirl to lasso me up and take me away asap. hope you enjoyed xo

side note i see all the comments you guys leave on my works i swear i do </3 trying to get better at replying to them but i see them weeks after they’re put up and i get embarrassed bc i’m late lmao. but i see them and appreciate them so so so much i’m sloppy kissing you all on the hot mouth rn

do not copy, edit, or repost, any of my works on any platforms.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Impatient || Alexia Putellas

warnings : smut, somnophilia (consensual fucking while asleep), cunnilingus, anal fingering, pussy fingering, buttplugs (mentions and usage), strap-on, suggestive language.

summary : Alexia reminisces on the mindblowing fuck you gave her before she left for Paris.

Alexia sighed as she pulled the door closed behind her and locked the master bedroom. Her whole body was tired and desperate for a shower after training with the Spanish team. With the Olympics fast approaching, they were putting in extra effort to really prove themselves as the best team in the world.

Alexia undressed and brought herself to make a little effort in winding down. She lit a candle in the bathroom, turned the lights down low and started a nice, hot bath.

Getting into the warm water melted away all the struggles of the day, bringing comfort to the captain's muscles and bones.

It didn’t take long for her mind to wander, with her eyes closed and the ability to visualize your body, she made herself a nice image in her head to enjoy considering her time spent alone and far from you.

She thought about the last time you two had sex before she left for camp and Paris. It was everything she needed to last the tournament and who’s to blame her for having her waterproof sex toy conveniently charged and in the bath with her when it was some of the best sex she had ever had?

She closed her eyes and let her mind fill in all the gaps in her memory of that life-changing night.

You walked into the apartment expecting your wife to be up and waiting for you like she said she would.

“Ale?” you whisper-shout, hanging your keys up by the door and kicking off your shoes. The hospital called you in for an emergency surgery and you had to leave in the middle of date night the day before Alexia left for Paris. She was used to it, being married to a surgeon and all but it broke her heart a little that on a night before she left for a long while, you had to go.

“Oh darling,” you coo when you see her sleeping on the couch soundly, mouth a little open as she snored. She denied ever snoring but you knew better but kept up with her little secret.

You were about to turn the soap opera she was binging off when you caught a glimpse of her underneath the blanket she had over her middle.

“What the-” you begin as you pull the blanket off and you were not expecting what you saw in front of you.

La Reina was half naked and fell asleep fucking herself on the strap you knew she wanted you to use on her tonight.

“You’re such a fucking whore, Alexia Putellas,” you grin and mutter, leaving her right where she was to get yourself ready for her going away present.

Your scrubs were swapped for a black leather strap-on and some expensive black and red lingerie. You pulled your hair back and walked back into the living room feeling ten times sexier.

The thing with La Reina was, she loved a good challenge. You dared to suggest you made toast faster than she did? She was setting the record straight that very second. You’re sure you drove to her mother’s house in under 30 minutes in Barcelona traffic? She can do 29 minutes.

You knew that if she woke up during this little adventure, she’d be very disappointed with herself. Being the good little wife you are, you were going to make sure she succeeded.

Without disturbing even a hair on her head, you managed to get the toy she had been fucking into herself out of her and strapped to you. You were careful and didn’t wake her, eyes growing darker by the minute as lust took over.

She just looked so peaceful and dainty that a part of you didn’t want to ruin that for her but the idea of her waking up to an empty apartment the day after with panties still soaking wet from her arousal and that familiar pain in her thighs was too good to pass up on.

You’re just about to try and turn her over to fuck her prone bone when the queen begins to fidget in her sleep. She groans and turns over, head tilted to the side.

“It’s like you know I’m here, babygirl,” you growl a little, grabbing her ass to give it the softest knead.

Alexia grunts a little, almost pushing her ass up just a tad. You pull her legs open just enough to slip your fingers along her folds, feeling how wet she was.

There was a little bottle of lube, presumably her travel variation, beside her still open. You slip your fingers into your mouth and taste her, smiling and sighing when you taste her with a little hint of green apple from the lube.

You wet your fingers more, slipping them back into her pussy. You finger her gently, fingertips angled directly into her sweet spot. You notice a sheen of sweat on her skin and the throb of her heartbeat was stronger around your fingers.

“You feel that, don’t you sweetheart?” You whisper, thumb rubbing her asshole just a little. “Look at you, being such a needy whore even when you’re asleep.”

You’re getting giddy yourself, thumb tempted to press right into her ass. You give in and remember her desires to have anything she normally enjoyed done to her even when asleep, you spat a fat glob onto her asshole and pressed your thumb into her.

She gasped and your heart dropped, thinking you woke her up but she merely reacted in her sleep, hips almost pushing back into you.

The wet noises from between her legs were getting louder and louder so you switched your fingers out for your cock swiftly.

Alexia’s lips were ajar, the faintest snores leaving them. They looked a little too empty though.

So you filled them.

Wet fingers slipped right into the crevice and she immediately began to suckle, little whines muffled as you began to fuck her.

She took your cock well on regular occasions but there was something about her body that almost knew she loved being fucked while she was asleep that hightened her senses.

She opened up and took the big silicone appendage a little too easily, her pussy squelching was like music to your ears.

She whined a little more, asshole winking back at you just a little too easily. Your hips don’t slow down, keeping the perfect pace as your eyes scanned the room.

Foot rest? No, just Ollie’s hair.

Under the couch? Hmm, nothing there.

Coffee table? Now we’re talking.

A buttplug.

More specifically, one that had your initials engraved on the end that you had made for Alexia.

This was one of those items that she kept under lock and key, pulling them out only under special circumstances.

I guess tonight was one of them.

“Did you have a whole night planned for us, my darling girl?” You coo, pushing your cock deeper into her now also gaping pussy and putting the plug to the side for now.

Alexia begins to fidget so you slow down a little as she settles, cock buried to the hilt inside her. She whined, drooling onto the cushion a little.

Certain she was asleep again, you speed up and fuck right into her sweet spot. She whimpers as she gets close, pussy gripping tighter around your cock. You suck on your thumb and stick it back into her ass, fingering her backdoor in tandem with your strokes.

Just as she gets close to coming you pull out and turn her onto her back gently, noticing her breath go shallow and her sweat making her a little sticky. You push your cock back in, pressing down on her tummy as you fuck up into her cunt.

You swear you feel the bulge come through her thin skin, hips unable to keep a steady pace to avoid waking her.

You watch her eyes shoot wide open as she cries out your name when she comes, thighs shaking and eyes rolling into her head when you push her deep into overstimulation.

She begs and begs for you to stop but you don’t, knowing that if she really wanted you to, she would use her safe word. When her thighs stop trembling you stop, lips ravaging her neck and chest.

You pull out and push her legs back onto her chest, lips suckled tight onto her messy pussy. You eat her out savagely, two slender fingers pushed deep into her ass.

“AMOR!” She screams, squirming all over the couch as she tries to escape your hold.

She grabs your hair and grinds into your tongue, chest heaving in pleasure as you throw her head first into a second, mind-numbing orgasm.

“J-Joder! Por favor!” she begs before you pull away. Your fingers in her ass don’t slow down.

“Please what, princess?” You tease, thumb gently rubbing her swollen clit.

“Please,” she hiccups, “please let me cum.”

Your other hand slips three fingers into her cunt while the two in her ass make room for a third.

“Do you think you deserve to cum, pretty girl?”

“Yes! Yes please, please let me cum.”

“But you were such an impatient little girl today,” your fingers all slow down, dragging her pleasure out to a speed she did not like one bit.

“Couldn’t even wait for me come home to fuck your brains out, tsk tsk tsk.”

You pull your fingers out and move her to sit between your legs. Your lips sit right by her ear and you’re sure you feel the shiver go down her spine the moment you speak.

“Hold your legs open,” you say and she obeys, “thank you sweetheart.”

“Have you been using this these past few days, sweetpea?”

“Sí, just for you.”

“You love being reminded of who you belong to?”

“Sí, love feeling it inside me at training.”

“If only the girls knew what a fucking slut their captain was, what would they say?”

“Don’t care,” she slurred, feeling the cold plug circle her puffy asshole. “Only want to be good for you.”

“You’re a good girl?” You tease, pressing the toy into her.

“Ye-” she tenses, feeling the cold metal push into her, “yes, yours!”

The widest part of the plug sat inside her, the slight stretch was a welcome pain.

“My what?”

”Your good girl!”

You push the plug right into her and fill her pussy with your fingers to push her towards her second orgasm.

She squirts a little when she comes, literally melting into you when she does. You coo and hold her through it, watching as her chest and legs tremble beautifully. She tilts her head up and you kiss passionately, wet fingers holding her face close.

“I love you,” Alexia pants, fingers slipping past her cunt to pull the plug that sat inside her out in the bathtub. She grinned and placed it to the side to deal with later.

She calls you right from the bath, iPad propped up on a bench near the tub, wishing you were there to enjoy the hot bath with her. Or fuck her silly, she can’t decide.

“Hi baby,” you greet, smiling at her through the screen.

“Hola amor, how are you?”

“Good darling, training go okay?”

“Sí, it was good. I think we can win.”

“I know you can, amor. I believe in you.”

Alexia accidentally knocked the bench when she tries to turn the volume up on her iPad and the plug falls. It clangs loudly and you definitely hear it.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Alexia turns a deep shade of red in shame, her little secret now not so secret anymore.

“Alexia, you really are a cock-hungry slut, aren’t you?” You tease, watching the captain stutter to defend herself.

“Would you like some help relieving some stress, princess?”

[thehoneybeestings]

𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢𝐢

𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚 𝐱 𝐦𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

୨ৎ pt. i

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: A reflection on the events that led you to your current predicament, in which you've been caught sneaking out of your best friend's mother's room... by your best friend... oops!

Content/Warnings: major canon divergence (see author's note), nsfw, reader is referred to w fem pronouns/has fem anatomy, top!ambessa, bottom!reader, age gap, oral (r receiving), sneaky library sex fuckkkk

A/N: fair warning! i am fully aware of the creative liberty i had to take here to craft a story in which mel and ambessa have a solid enough relationship that this was not a major betrayal on reader's behalf. i'm trying to strengthen my angst writing skills, but unfortunately, it just won't be at mel's expense lol. i'm sorry if you all were hoping for something angstier, but i just can't do nhe yet, so i hope you enjoy what i did write!

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

It’d been about three months since you’d met your best friend’s mother. “She can be a bit… frosty,” Mel had warned, “but don’t mind it. She isn’t as scary as she likes people to think she is.”

That much, you would come to learn in the following months. 

At first, Ambessa refused to entertain the idea of having you; refused it in the daylight, at least. She couldn’t help where her mind wandered when her only company was the moonlight streaming in through her windows and a candle's flame dancing on her nightstand. 

Even then-even after knowing full well that she’d coaxed herself to sleep with images of you flickering behind her closed eyes and a hand in between her legs to accompany them-she refused to act on her attraction.

Ambessa was an esteemed Noxian general. Feared and respected by elites across the world. A grown ass woman. She did not “sneak around.”

And especially not with the girl seated next to her daughter at tonight’s progress day gala, who was giggling about something superficial, something childish, she automatically assumed. No- if Ambessa was going to share her precious time and affections with someone, they would need to match her wits and wisdom. They would need to be able to keep up with her. 

So, she brushes off how beautiful the young lady's berry-colored smile is, and scans the room for the nearest table of champagne flutes. 

She’d never been one for these events. There was always something better to do than stand around and make idle chit-chat, she thought. If there weren’t soldiers to command or negotiations to be made, there was at least a book that she was dying to get home to. In fact, that reminded her of the cliffhanger she left off on before she- “Not one for galas, I presume?” Annoyingly so, the sudden inquiry pulls her from the solace of her trailing thoughts. 

Her agitation is quickly extinguished when a berry-colored smile comes into view. 

Not that you can tell. She still looks as disinterested as ever.

“What makes you say that?” She deadpans, her rich voice smooth and steady. You thank the Gods that you’d chosen a long-sleeved gown to wear tonight, for if not, she’d surely see the goosebumps traveling down your arms.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, feigning a casual confidence. “The brooding, perhaps.”

She cocks her head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly at your boldness. 

You don’t miss the corner of her mouth pulling up into an amused smirk. 

“I’m only kidding,” you smile back. “I just have a knack for spotting fellow introverts.” “You seem to be enjoying yourself well enough,” she muses, gesturing to where Mel spearheads the table’s conversion. 

“I enjoy Mel,” you correct, “and when your best friend asks you to play wingwoman for the night because the object of her affections is on the guestlist, you don’t say no.”

A low chuckle escapes the general. 

“Talis?”

“How did you know?” 

“How could I not? The girl is obsessed.”

This time, a chuckle of your own.

“She’s… insistent. Decides she wants something, and won't relent until she has it. But, she utilizes her ambition to fight for what’s right,” you continue, a warm smile now seated on your lips, “and for that, I have boundless respect and admiration for her.”

Ambessa feels her heart wrench.

Guilt.

If there was anyone who deserved someone as supportive as you in their corner, it was Mel. She would not get in between that. 

Not that she had begun to humor the idea of having you, anyway.

“She’s a wonderful girl,” Ambessa remarks softly.

You look over just in time to catch the somber expression with which Ambessa watches her daughter light up the room. She’s quick to school it when she sees you turn, taking a sip of her champagne.

Your words are soft, spoken with an undercurrent of understanding.

“She speaks highly of you.”

The muscle of Ambessa’s jaw tightens for a split second.

“She does?” she asks with a raised brow, trying her best to feign indifference, but you aren’t ignorant of the tumultuous path that has led the two women to their relationship today. They had both worked hard for the bond they now shared, and Ambessa treasures that bond more than she’s ever treasured anything else. 

“She does,” you affirm. “You’ve raised an excellent girl. You’ve also raised a literature fiend, who I can assure you is currently raving about all three of the books she plans to finish by the end of the month.”

Ambessa punches out a laugh. That’s when Mel’s head snaps in her mother’s direction; when she finds that you were the source of her mother’s laughter; when she’s thrust into the crisis that would plague her for months:

“Oh Gods… why do I like them together?!”

She wouldn’t dare speak of this revelation. 

You wouldn’t dare speak of being pressed against a library door with her mother’s lips trailing down your neck.

You’d both taken to roaming the halls of whoever’s estate this was after deciding that reprieve from the crowd would be more than welcome.

The library’s doors had been wide open, its walls of books luring you in. 

“Ooh,” you’d murmured mischievously, “shall we pop in and judge someone’s taste?”

Ambessa rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but follows closely behind anyway. 

“And what is your taste, dear?” she asks. 

With bright eyes and excited words spoken a bit too fast, you go on to share your favorite books and why they'd earned the distinction. She rears her head back, brows raised. 

“I must say… I’m impressed,” she admits. “You’ve mentioned some of my favorites as well.”

“Go on then,” you urge, taking a seat in a wingbacked chair, “I know you’ve got a thesis just waiting for an audience.”

She chortles, leaning against the desk in front of you. “Do you have a knack for spotting fellow bookworms, too?” 

You shrug with a smirk. “What can I say? I’m perceptive.” 

A smirk graces her lips as she scans you, but the look in her eyes is unreadable. It’s abandoned, anyway, when she begins discussing her interpretation of one of her favorite works; and when you interject with a counter thesis that truly has her stumped, she knows she’s screwed. 

She wanted someone who could keep up with her, didn’t she?

So now, here you are, lips swollen from where they were just pressed against her own until you couldn’t breathe. Her grip is firm around your waist as she cages you against the library's tall wooden door and trails open-mouthed kisses down your throat. Her hand snakes up your figure to tangle into your hair and tugs to expose more of your neck. She leaves a nip over your pulse, slides a muscled thigh in between your legs, and when you gasp as she presses in, she finally pulls away to lock eyes with you.

Her composure sends a chill down your spine.

“My daughter comes first,” she asserts. “Always. If at any point either of us believes that this arrangement could bring her harm, we cease immediately.”

Her words are sobering. You think of what this could mean for your friendship if Mel ever found out; of how on earth she’d possibly feel, of what on earth she’d possibly say. 

You’d cross that bridge when you got there, you finally resign, because you’re already soaked through your underwear.

“Of course,” you breathe with a nod. “I understand completely.”

A wicked smirk spreads across her face. She takes your chin between her thumb and forefinger. 

“Good girl,” she croons; and when your jaw goes slack, she takes the opportunity to thumb at your bottom lip before the digit slides over its plush to rest on your tongue. 

Without thinking, you suck. 

“Very good.”

She pulls her thumb from your mouth with a pop, smearing a bit of your dark red lipstick on your chin in the process. 

“Your gown is lovely,” she muses innocently, as if she isn’t sinking to her knees and rucking up the dark red fabric. 

You stare down at her with wide, desperate eyes, your hand darting out to grab at her shoulder for support. 

“I apologize,” she suddenly chimes, slowly pulling your thin garment of lace and cotton down and out of her way, “we’ve already established a mutual disinterest in small talk, haven’t we?”

And then, she disappears underneath the gathered material of your dress. You brace yourself, hoping to the Gods you don’t come embarrassingly fast, but considering the way your legs twitch as soon as she brushes against your arousal, the odds are not in your favor. 

You feel your face heat up when she speaks up to confirm what a mess you are for her. 

“So wet for me already, darling. Do discussions on literature always turn you on this much?”

Your breathless chuckle is cut off by a whine when she presses her nose against your clit, her mouth hovering just over the slick pooling at your entrance. 

“You’re being mean,” you fuss, bucking your hips forward. 

She places a kiss upon the bud of nerves aching for attention, and a chuckle rumbles deep in her chest, sending vibrations through your core that have you clenching around nothing. 

“Oh, child,” she coos, tossing one of your legs over her strong shoulder, “You have no clue what mean is.”

You inhale sharply through gritted teeth as she finally licks a stripe up from your entrance to your clit. Her mouth never leaves you, immediately closing around your pearl to suck; hard. 

You let out a squeak, earning yourself a quick pinch on the plush of your hip where she rests her hand.

“Make another noise and I’ll stop. You need to learn to be quiet if this arrangement is what you want.” 

You nod fervently. “Okay,” you exhale, tapping her shoulder in a desperate plea for her to continue, “okay, I’m sorry.”

She drags her tongue through your slick again, draws a circle around your clit with the muscle, dips into the nectar now dripping down your thighs.

“Such a messy girl,” she mocks, mouth still pressed against you. You bite down hard on your lip as she returns to her ministrations. Her tongue laps at your clit steadily now, only stopping every few moments or so to lap at the sweet taste of your arousal. 

Your chest heaves with labored breaths, and your legs are starting to shake. You're nearly delirious on her mouth, her languid strokes coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. 

She brings a thick finger to your entrance, but doesn’t even get the chance to press into you before you gasp, urgently whispering, 

“I’m so close- I’m gonna come.”

She chuckles knowingly. That much was obvious. Her finger slides up to part you like flower petals, and when her mouth latches onto your clit once more, you throw your head back against the door, hand flying over your mouth to conceal the whimper that escapes you. 

Your breath is jagged as you come down; that is, until she stands up and splays a hand across your stomach.

“Breathe, child.” It’s a command, leaving no room for disobedience. 

You take a deep breath in, eyes fluttering open on exhale. She stares down at you with something like pride. Approval. 

“How do you feel?” She asks, gently pulling your underwear back into place. With the handkerchief previously folded up in her back pocket, she first wipes at the smudge of berry-red lipstick adorning your chin, wipes your slick from her own mouth, and then folds it over to dab at the slick on your thighs before tucking it into her bra this time. She gingerly adjusts your dress, straightens your necklace, smooths out your hair. 

“Good,” you smile. “Really good.”

“Do you need a moment before we rejoin the party?” 

“I’m okay,” you shake your head. 

Her eyes narrow as if to ask if you’re sure. 

“Really. I’m fine. Unless I still look… you know…”

“Ravished?”

You chuckle shyly. “Y-yes…that.”

For the first time that you’ve ever seen, her eyes are warm. She tucks a tendril of hair behind your ear. 

“You look beautiful, darling.”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

Another three months had passed since. Months of stealing glances across extravagant dining room tables, or staying up all hours of the night in her study to discuss the books you were currently reading, or sneaking off to her bed chambers to let her devour you like a woman starved. 

You spare one last glance over your shoulder at the sleeping woman. You both knew the drill; you’d spend your nights together, accompanied only by the high moon and candlelight, but by day, Mel came first. 

Mel, who is now staring at you with a slack jaw, wondering why in the Gods’ names you’re tiptoeing out of her mother’s bedroom.

You were usually more careful, sneaking back down to Mel’s room where she thought you’d been all night before the sun even had the chance to break the horizon. You’d been less disciplined this morning, far less inclined to leave Ambessa with empty arms after she’d officially declared that she wanted you to be hers. Still, you'd be able to play it off perfectly well, you thought. You’d just pretend to have gotten up to use the bathroom or to fetch a glass of water. Neither of which necessitated being in Ambessa Medarda’s room. This unfortunate fact hits you like a train when you lock eyes with Mel. 

Your jaw goes slack, the color drains from your face, and your stomach drops.

As much as you try-as much as you want to- you can’t say anything. You’re not sure whether to be relieved or terrified when Mel speaks first instead.

“I’ll just… right… I’ll be in the kitchen. Having breakfast. You know. As one does.” 

You watch in horror as she awkwardly scrambles away, and tears prick your eyes as soon as she’s out of sight.

“My daughter comes first,” Ambessa had said. “If at any point either of us believes that this arrangement could bring her harm, we cease immediately.”

Your mind is racing. You wonder at what point this went too far, at what point you should have called it; and then, eventually, you figure that all this wondering will get you nowhere. 

Nothing would change the fact that you’ve been sneaking around with your best friend’s mother, and nothing would change the fact that now, she knows.

There was only one thing to do: be a big girl and face the music. 

You pad down the stairs, stomach twisting in knots when you begin making your way down the hall leading to the kitchen. You swear you’re about to hurl when you round the corner to find Mel and Jayce seated on barstools at the marble island, speaking in urgent, hushed voices. 

As much as you would have rather disappeared completely in this moment, you clear your throat instead, making your presence known. 

Jayce shoots up, running a hand through his hair. 

Damn it, you think, he only does that when he’s nervous. 

“I’ll, uh, leave you girls to it...” 

Your lips press into a thin line as he walks past you, leaving you alone with Mel. You take a step forward, wrapping your arms around you. 

“Mel…” you begin, voice already breaking, “I don’t… I don’t know where to begin.”

She rises from her seat, steeling herself for the conversation with a deep breath and a clenched jaw. Her green eyes bore into you. 

“Very well, then,” she begins, crossing her arms in front of her. “You can start by telling me how long this has been going on.” 

“Um…” 

You chew your lip, brows furrowing in an anxious concentration as you parse through the past few months for the beginning of your escapades with Ambessa. 

“It’s been about-”

Mel’s hand flies up to cover her mouth. 

A confused look appears on your face. Bit of an early reaction, you think…

And then, she snorts. 

She’s laughing. 

“Oh Gods, I can’t possibly keep this up; darling, you look like you’re about to faint.”

“What?” You whisper, eyes darting across her features as you try to make sense of what on Earth is going on. 

“Y/n,” Mel begins, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I know you’ve been seeing her.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. 

“What?! How?”

“Oh, please. I know a woman in love when I see one.”

Your jaw is slack, eyes narrowing in disbelief until, finally, you exhale. Your hand flies to your racing heart, relief washing over you. 

She isn’t angry. 

“In fact,” she continues, handing you a glass of orange juice, “I’ve been harboring a bit of a secret myself.”

You raise a brow, urging her to continue as you sit down on one of the stools.

“I'm quite positive that the two of you are a great match.”

You choke mid-sip. 

“What?” You cough, clumsily wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“It’s true,” she muses. “I’ve thought so since seeing her laugh with you at the progress day ball a few months ago. My mother doesn’t laugh.”

You chuckle at the assertion, though she’s completely serious.

“Then why try setting me up with all of those different people?” You wonder outwardly. 

“Tell me you wouldn’t have gotten suspicious if I’d suddenly stopped utilizing my impeccable matchmaking abilities,” she begins. “You would have started wondering if there was something wrong, and you know I can’t lie to you, so then I would have had to admit that the person I really thought you should be set up with was my mother.”

You giggle at the thought of that conversation, and Mel takes a seat beside you, resting her chin in her palm. 

“I do wish you’d told me,” she says softly. “I don’t like this secret-keeping business.”

A pang of guilt pierces you. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m sorry, Mel. It really wasn’t ever supposed to go this far, but…”

“Here you are,” she states with a shrug and a knowing grin. 

“Here I am,” you repeat.

Mel shoots you a wink. “I know a woman in love when I see one.”

𝐄𝐍𝐃 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

Taglist: @ya-boi-v

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors With Benefits: Part 1 (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge (I will be adding more and tag the Masterlist) Thank you @hellishjoel for putting on this contest. It's a lot of fun!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: Roughly 5000

Warning: Dilfy smut, age gap (23 & 42)

Mid-June, 2024. The first summer back home upon college graduation. You knew there would be an adjustment period and while you didn't necessarily feel unhappy, there was a strangeness that left you with feelings you couldn't quite pinpoint. This was your childhood home, your hometown, your room - but still, somehow it felt foreign.

You hung up the maroon cap and gown that showed off the primary color of Texas A+M, the college where you had spent the last four years studying your ass off to get a degree in criminal justice. At twenty-three years old after spending the last few years in a little off-campus apartment with some friends, you were feeling both aggravated and nostalgic upon returning to your parents' house in the suburbs. They were great and you got along just fine; but the freedoms that had gone along with renting your own place were now reeled in a bit tighter. At the very least you knew your mother would likely stay awake on the nights you were out late. Still, you appreciated how much they cared about you.

You moved to your bedroom window and flung it open to let in some air to get rid of the stuffiness that lingered in the house. Immediately, your eyes landed on a man next door standing behind a grill as smoke filtered up above him in a faint, little cloud. He flipped a burger with a pair of metal tongs and took a sip from what looked like a bottle of beer.

"Hey, honey."

You jumped at your mother's voice as if you'd been caught doing something wrong. "Hey." You pressed your eyebrows together and motioned out the window as she entered the room. "Who's that?"

"Oh, I guess it never came up in conversation," your mother said with a shrug, "That's our new neighbor. He moved in back in January."

You glanced back out the window.

"He’s a bit too old for you,” she teased with a laugh.

You whipped around and made a face. "I'm not... I'm not checking him out. I'm just asking why there's a stranger in the Wilsons' backyard." You smirked and raised your eyebrows, "Maybe if my mother told me things I wouldn't have to play detective."

"Isn't that what you got your degree in criminal justice for?"

You chuckled, knowing she would most certainly outwit you in a verbal battle. "And I'm 23 years old. No one's too old for me anymore."

"Well, in that case I hear they just built a nice, new nursing home down the road with plenty of widowed men. I can drive you there if you'd like."

You let out a hearty laugh. “I’ll pass."

The two of you giggled and your mother continued, "Will you be joining your father and I for dinner tonight? We were thinking of just going to Chili's and then heading to a play at the little theater downtown. The kids are putting on Grease."

You smiled as your phone vibrated with a text from your best friend. "It's Holly."

"So, I guess the answer is going to be no," your mother suspected. She smirked and got the hint. “Keep in touch.”

"Okay," you agreed and then cleared your throat when she turned to go. "Mom, what's his name?"

"Huh?"

"The neighbor," you went on, "I should probably introduce myself since I'm going to be a resident of 45 Harding Drive again."

"Joel," her mother replied, "Joel Miller."

Your parents left soon after and so you wandered out to the back steps, waiting for them to take off first before popping open a beer. The ice cold beverage tasted better than normal because of the incoming summer heat that was supposed to really strike the following morning. With a content sigh, you leaned your elbows back on the top step of the set of four that led from the back door into the oversized backyard.

"Jennifer?" a deep, scratchy voice made you jump for the second time that night. You put a hand on your chest and glanced off to the side when you realized a man had called out your mother's name.

The neighbor, you thought, feeling your stomach knot up.

You cleared your throat and rose to your feet, leaving the beer on the top step. "No… I’m (Y/N)." You took a few steps in his direction though he made his way almost all the way to the steps.

"(Y/N)?" His features became clear when he stepped into a small, back light beside the door. The man flashed a friendly, boyish grin from beneath a trim beard. "Tim and Jen’s daughter?"

You looked down sheepishly and smiled before lifting your eyes to meet his stare. "Yeah."

He’s hot, your inner monologue informed you, as if your cheeks hadn't suddenly grown hot.

His eyes shifted to the beer and his grin widened even more before he extended a hand. "I'm Joel... your neighbor."

"Nice to meet you." You gave a closed-mouth smile and took in his appearance, consciously telling herself not to stare. His plain white t-shirt showed off his broad chest and shoulders

Joel cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," you assured him and then cleared your throat, "Do you want a beer or something?"

A smirk twisted onto his face., "No thanks. I was actually just coming over to see if I could borrow some butter."

"Oh..." You glanced over your shoulder at the back door and then back to Joel.

"You don't have to," he said reassuringly, unable to keep the grin from his face. "You don't even know me yet so-"

"No.” You cut him off, "No, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" Joel's voice cut through you like a knife and he kept his eyes firmly locked on yours.

You nodded, unable to look away for a moment and then waved him inside.

"Don't forget your brew here, honey." He reached down and scooped up the beer as you flung the back door open.

You smiled again, "Thanks."

Joel nodded and followed you in, before glancing around at the modest but modern kitchen. "You, uh... you even old enough to drink this shit?" He motioned to the beer.

You rolled your eyes, "I can show you my ID if that makes you feel any better." You flung open the refrigerator, "I know my parents are going to treat me like I'm in high school again."

"Well... they're just trying to protect you," Joel said. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three." You glanced over her shoulder at him, somewhat pleased to catch him staring - or so you thought. It prompted him to look elsewhere.

"Here." You removed a stick of butter and crossed the room to hand it to him. When the butter landed in his hand you decided to be bold and didn't immediately let it go, "How old are you?"

He chuckled before holding a wicked smirk and again held her captive with his playfully intense eyes. "How old do you think I am?"

You stared back, somewhat used to gaining control over the guys you had dated or been interested in in the past. Already, this time you felt a bit outmatched and part of it was your instant attraction to him. When Joel took one step in her direction, you swallowed hard and gave a random answer.

"Thirty-two?"

Joel laughed a little louder, putting a hand on his stomach. He ran the other hand through his messy brown hair and pointed. "You're so full of shit."

You smiled at him, "I was thinking more of thirty-eight, thirty-nine."

He sucked his teeth and gave you a look up-and-down before smiling wide again. When he didn't say anything in response you flat out asked, "Am I right?"

"Forty-two," Joel finally informed you after a long pause.

"Over the hill then?"

He snickered and then motioned to the fridge, "Ya know... I will have that beer if you don't mind."

You smiled before reopening the fridge to fetch one for him. When you placed a bottle of Bud Lite in his hand he used the counter to pop the top rather than twist it. When the dented bottle cap fell to the floor and danced in circles for a moment you glanced back up to find him continuing to stare as he took a long swig from the bottle.

Joel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Your dad going to notice that a few of these are missing?"

"They're mine," you informed him, "And I'm not-"

"A kid, I know..." Joel rolled his eyes now and the two of you shared a laugh, "Believe me when you're my age you'll love that someone will accuse you of being younger."

"I'm sure I will."

He reached down and scooped up the cap from the ground and then held it out in his palm. When you went to reach for it he closed his hand and smiled playfully.

"I'll take it," Joel offered, "Don't want you to get caught drinking these things when your parents come home." He continued to tease you about your age.

"You know, I could've guessed you were fifty."

He laughed out loud. "Smart mouth on you," Joel flashed his index finger at her with the hand that held the bottle, "I like it."

You looked down and laughed again, feeling your cheeks grow hot again from his remark.

"Anyway, I should be getting back." Joel continued to smile, almost triumphantly and winked. "It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you too.”

He held your gaze for an extra second, forcing him to smirk a final time before heading out the back door.

"Thanks for the beer," he said casually, "I'll see ya around."

8:15 pm - the following evening

"Sorry I couldn't make it out last night," Holly said to you. The two of you sat side by side at barstools down at one of the local bars in town. "My boss can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."

"It's fine. I had the house to myself so I kind of just had some time to chill and binge watch some old shows."

"Sounds terrible."

You laughed and shrugged. "It was alright."

"Well, here's to... summer?" Holly raised her martini glass and you tapped her beer bottle gently against it.

"To potentially the weirdest summer of my life."

"Why's that?"

You shrugged, "I don't know. Being back home doesn't feel so 'at home' anymore."

"Give it time." Holly sipped her drink, "In a month it'll feel like you never left."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Hey, it's not so bad. I'm here." She smiled and raised her eyebrows, "Jill and Molly should be home within the week too. We can get the old crew back together before we all get real jobs and have to do shitty adult stuff."

"I'll drink to that," you agreed, taking a longer swig of the beer. You sighed and began to peel at the blue Bud Lite label, letting your mind drift to the night before with Joel. You envisioned him snapping the cap off the top of the beer bottle, using the counter. A smile crossed lingered on your face.

"Ooohh... someone's checking us out," Holly commented, "Or maybe they know you..." Her eyebrows pressed together and she motioned using her head toward a table in the corner of the bar.

"Oh shit." You couldn't contain your response but realized it must've sounded out of place.

"What?" Her friend asked, "Do you know him?"

"That's my neighbor," you informed her, "New neighbor."

Joel smirked and gave a wave but quickly entertained a conversation he was having with two other men at the small, corner table.

"He's kind of a Dilf."

You snickered and shrugged, unable to take your eyes off of him. When Joel glanced back in your direction you looked away and quickly took a sip of your.

"You think he's hot," Holly suspected with a laugh.

"What?" You shook your head, "No... I mean he may have some Dilf qualities or something like you just said but…” The sentence drifted off.

"Mm-hmm..." She continued to stare at her friend with playfully accusing eyes.

"Stop," you joked, "I just met him last night."

"Last night?" Holly perked up, "And..."

"And what?"

"You tell me."

You laughed again, "He came over to the house because he needed some butter."

"More like some sugar," she winked and glanced up toward a television that had a baseball game on in front of them.

You let out a hearty laugh and shook your head.

"He keeps looking over here." Holly’s voice perked out, "Oh! He's getting up," Holly whispered, stalking him for a moment with her eyes.

You glanced over and felt your stomach twist in knots when he headed in their direction.

"So you are over twenty-one," Joel cracked a wide smile and tapped the back of her chair as he continued to walk by.

"Twenty-three," you called after him, smiling wide.

He glanced over his shoulder, winking once before continuing on around a corner toward the bathrooms.

You let out a sigh and Holly turned back around.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" her friend asked. Before you could attempt to plead your case Holly went on, "He's hot... and he's totally flirting with you."

"He's not flirting with me."

"That was a Frank Sinatra-worthy wink."

You shook your head, laughing again. "Where do you come up with these things?"

"You're glowin. You're crushing on this guy. Who cares if he's your neighbor. Get on that."

"He's forty-two," you lowered your voice.

Holly raised her eyebrows and glanced toward the doorway where Joel had just walked through before returning her attention to her friend.

"Forget it." You sipped your drink and tried to pretend like you were nterested in the game on the television.

"At least admit you're crushing."

She turned to her and shook her head, "Fine... he's hot. Okay?" You focused on the screen for as long as she could and tried to pretend not to notice when Joel rounded back into the bar. You let out a deep breath as he crossed behind you and felt a rush when he came up beside you to flag down the bartender.

"Another round?" the middle-aged bartender asked, already reaching for a beer.

"Please,” Joel said with a nod, "You can put it on the tab." He turned to you, "Any interest in playing darts over here?" He nodded toward a dart board in the corner.

"Sure."

"Don't feel obligated." He forced your eyes back to his and continued to stare into them.

"I don't." You felt that intense paralysis again and couldn't turn away. When the bartender came back with the round of beers for Joel, you felt relieved and let out a breath.

"Get these two what they want," Joel added to the bartender, "Next round's on me when you finish those."

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"It's fine. I owe you one from last night." He headed back to the small table with his friends and Holly finally snapped you out of your daze.

"I thought you just gave him butter," she whispered with a giggle, "What was last night?"

You swallowed hard and rose to your feet, prompting Holly to do the same. "I offered him a beer and he took it," she said, "It was nothing... believe me. If I had anything interesting to share I would tell you."

Your legs felt heavy as you crossed the dark bar that was scattered with only a handful of other people. While the two other men began collecting darts and erasing the chalkboard to the side, Joel stood staring with his elbow on the table. For a moment everything else was in the background and you could only focus on him.

Shit... Any wit she had going for her had betrayed her. The instant, intense attraction you had to him was completely clouding your judgment. You felt like you were about to enter a wolf den, though you didn't at all mind playing the part of Little Red Riding Hood.

The anxiety-ridden feeling you had had leading up to the game of darts diminished as the night went on. You played a few games, swapping teammates several times, beginning with a 'boys versus girls' theme and then pairing off randomly when one game ended.

"He's going to fuck it up, you watch," Joel taunted as his friend lined up, closing one eye as he released the dart, only sending it clunking off the board and to the ground. "You didn't even hit the fuckin' board." His words drew laughter from everyone and the man that missed stumbled to retrieve it, chuckling as he went.

"I'm fucked up," Skip, the older robust man, remarked as he struggled to pick the dark up from the floor.

"Ya think?" Joel joked, continuing to sip on his beer.

"It's about time I get this man home to his wife and let her deal with him," the other man, Charlie, chuckled from behind a pair of alcohol-induced crimson cheeks. "Can't hold his liquor."

Skip huffed a breath and closed his eyes with a hand on his head. "The old lady's going to be mad at me. Especially when I tell her we've been hanging out with these lovely ladies." He motioned to you and Holly, laughing at himself and making the others do the same.

"I'd leave that part out if you knew what was good for ya," Charlie informed him with another laugh. "Come on Skippy. It's past your bed time."

"Game over?" Holly asked you.

"I guess so." You raised her eyebrows and smiled.

"Charlie, you guys to get home?" Joel asked.

"It's just a quarter mile down the road," Charlie waved a hand. He smiled, "Good night ladies."

"Goodnight," you both said at the same time before Holly turned to you.

"I'm heading to the bathroom. Be right back." She raised her eyebrows, noting it would give you and Joel a moment alone and you tried to play it off coolly.

"Okay." She watched a moment as Holly made her way down the bar and around the corner.

"Hope I didn't kill your girls night," Joel said.

"No." You turned back to him and leaned an elbow on the table, "We were just bored. Had to get out of the house."

"Mmm..." He slid back down into a seat and you took upon herself to join him as you waited for Holly.

Joel leaned both elbows on the table to straddle his beer, "You're probably used to night clubs filled with young guys just dying to buy you a drink. This has to be fuckin' lame."

"I was over that scene by my junior year," you told him with a laugh as you shook your head. "They were all the same with their cheesy cologne and gelled up hair."

Joel huffed a laugh and took a sip of his drink. "Sick of that shit huh?"

"Very." You mirrored his position and continued to sip on the beer you had been milking for the better part of an hour, "I'm kind of over the party scene... and the being at home scene."

"You've been home for one fuckin' day." He raised his eyebrows, "Get over it. You're saving money."

You nodded, "Yeah... yeah you're right."

"I know I am." He smiled, a charming arrogance radiating out of him.

When your phone buzzed in your pocket you jumped and quickly removed it, finding a text message from Holly.

I'm getting in my car. Snuck out the back. Have fun. You'll thank me later.

When you looked back up Joel was grilling you with his eyes. You wondered if he had managed to read the message or not. You cleared her throat. "Holly," you said simply.

"You guys need to go?"

You opened her mouth to speak, still unsure if he had seen what your friend wrote but decided to chance it and lie. "She... got sick. She's on her way home."

"She okay?"

You nodded. “Just a little embarrassed I think and decided to go." You took a sip to buy yourself some time in case he asked any more questions. When he didn't you tried to change the subject. "This place is dead."

"What's so bad about the college scene?" Joel asked.

"Huh?"

"The young guys, the night clubs..."

"Oh... nothing, I guess." You cleared her throat feeling like he was trying to read your mind. Again, your face felt flush with heat and you continued, "They're just... all the same. There's no appeal anymore. When I was eighteen I thought it was cool sneaking into bars and all that." You smiled and shook her head before looking him in the eye. "This is more my speed."

Joel stared back and didn't immediately say anything.

You almost couldn't take the quiet stalemate. The sexual attraction for Joel burned in your chest and in that moment, in the quiet corner of the bar, it was hard to fight it. All the same, you felt like you had to be reading his body language correctly in assuming he was feeling something too. Still, the fact that he was your older neighbor, who you didn't know very well, lingered in the back of your mind.

Getting involved with Joel would satisfy your instant craving for him but beyond that you knew it could only lead to making both of your lives more complicated.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," you told him, when you couldn't contain your feelings any longer. It was the only thing you could say without leaping across the table and initiating a make-out session that played out animalistically in your mind.

"You gunna disappear on me too?" he joked, though you could see there was a hint of seriousness in his piercing eyes behind the wicked smile that hadn't left his face all evening.

"Not a chance." You felt embarrassed by the bold nature of your words, but took a deep breath and made the long walk across the bar into the restroom area. When you pushed open the door you felt relieved that no one else was in there and quickly made your way to the sink to pat some water on her face. You let out a breath, leaning both of her hands on the counter and then took in your appearance to make sure you was satisfied with the way you looked.

I'm being ridiculous, you thought. I'm too old to feel this out of control over a guy... or a man.

Joel was a man. He wasn't at all like the college boys you had been surrounded by who loved to crush beer cans on their heads, brag about how many consecutive beer pong games they'd won and worst of all when they threw the cheesiest lines at you and your friends to try to get laid. Joel didn't have to say or do anything in particular. He could simply look at you the right way and you found yourself ready to obey any request or demand he threw your way.

I’m in over my head, you thought, but I don't care.

You took in another deep breath and felt like you had the quick break that you needed to hold a sensible conversation with him without the constant interference of your out-of-whack hormones.

"Okay," you whispered to yourself and fiddled with your hair before pulling the door open to head back into the short, dark hallway. When Joel rounded the corner at the same time from the bar both of you stopped abruptly.

His eyes stalked the length of your body before finally re-settling on your gaze.

"Checking to make sure I didn't bail?" you joked, nervously laughing just after. Your tongue danced along your bottom lip, and you couldn't help but look him up and down the way he had just done to you.

Joel swallowed hard, tipping his mouth up into a half-smirk before walking past the men's room door in your direction.

You didn't have time to process all of the questions in your mind because he marched up and planted his lips against yours, immediately penetrating them with his tongue as his hands successfully shoved you up against the door to the women's room. It opened a few inches beneath the force.

You felt an explosion of adrenaline filter through your body as you kissed him back even more savagely than in your daydreams.

Joel pushed the door all the way open with one hand, not separating himself from you as he gripped your ass with his free hand and pushed his hips firmly against yours.

You tangled a hand in his hair, kissing him back with a heated passion that you didn't bother to try masking now that he had initiated the fantasy that had been playing out in your mind since you had him.

He moaned into your mouth before taking a breath and crushing his lips back against yours. Your back collided with the tile wall at the back of the bathroom, and you arched your neck as he began to ravage you, sliding a hand down the front of your pants while gripping your face with the other to kiss you hard again.

It all was happening so fast. You struggled to keep up but couldn't process a conscious thought when his first two fingers slid inside of you.

You bit down on your lip in a break in the kiss and spread your legs wider to give him more access.

Joel left a single kiss on her lips and spoke against them in a husky whisper, "Let it out honey," he kissed you again, "Let it out."

You knew the bar was nearly empty and there wasn't another woman that had been there. Even if there had been you didn't know that you would have cared. When his fingers twitched, arcing perfectly in his technique to make your entire lower body shiver with pleasure, you groaned.

"Fuck Joel," your whined his name, desperate for his tongue to dominate your again as he continued to finger you relentlessly until you felt like you were going to explode.

Joel's arousal heightened when he traced your lips with his thumb of his free hand, prompting you to take the tip of it into your mouth.

"God," he closed his eyes relished in the feeling, pushing his fingers deeper into you.

You whimpered again, writhing beneath his touch and attempted to reach for the belt buckle on his pants. "I want you."

He removed his hand from beneath your slick panties and placed his hands against the wall on either side of you as you managed to undo his buckle and shove his pants down off his hips.

Instinctively, you dropped to your knees, taking in as much of him as you could. Joel moaned and bucked his hips once as he grasped the back of your head with one hand. You looked up, watching his head fall back as his closed eyes pressed shut tighter. Joel allowed you to have your way with him as you continued to go down on him like you might never get another opportunity to do so. "Fuuucckk." He drew the word out, encouraging you to continue as he grabbed a fist full of your hair. "Ohh shit..."

Had anybody walked by the door there would have been no way to mask what was going on. Joel didn't hold back and felt an additional jolt of pleasure when you stroked him with your hand before quietly demanding him to come.

He opened his eyes, letting his mouth hang open as he glanced down, making eye contact with you as you engulfed him again.

"Jesus..." Joel's eyes closed and he felt an unmistakable buildup brewing below his waist. He couldn't ask you to stop, not when he was on the verge of exploding. "I'm gunna come." He shouted the words so loud that you thought for sure that someone had to have heard your encounter from somewhere in the bar. Still, you didn't let up and allowed him to push deep into you, gripping the back of your head with such force that you couldn't have separated your mouth from him if you tried.

He groaned, not attempting to hold back what he was feeling, alternating different curse words in between uneven breaths that ultimately left him panting as you finished him off. With a final breath he released your hair, letting his hand drop toward your face as you wiped a hand across your mouth and slowly rose to your feet.

Joel stood there for several seconds, breathing heavy with his pants at his ankles and a hand still on your face. When he finally came down off the high enough to speak, a chuckle left his mouth and ran a hand through your now-messy hair. "Shit honey... you didn't get yours." He let out another breath and then retrieved his pants from the floor and straightened out his appearance.

"It's alright," you told him with a sly smile, noting the heat that was still brewing between your legs.

He huffed another breath and adjusted himself over his pants before regaining your gaze. Joel smiled and drew his thumb gently under your eye, "Mascara's running. Sorry honey."

You closed her eyes as he continued to wipe the stray makeup away from your face. When you reopened them, Joel sported a half grin and he raised his eyebrows.

"Guess I fuckin' owe ya one."

You snickered, pleased to know that he wasn't at all expecting this to be your only encounter. "Yeah... you do."

Joel took a final, deep breath. "Well... you know where to find me."

"Next door."

"If you see me outside come on over to... borrow some butter or something.”

"Butter..." You snickered and then swallowed hard when he took a step toward her and slid a hand back down the front of your pants.

Joel touched his lips to yours as he spoke and this time gently began to massage up and down your wet center. When your mouth twisted up in a smile and you closed your eyes again he grinned and removed his glistening fingers. "It's a shame this is going to go to waste. Too bad you're so damn good at giving a blowjob. I had all the intentions of fucking you but I could just not ask you to stop.”

"Damn," she said quietly, but smiled, praying he might have it in him to continue.

Joel smiled, reading the disappointment on her face. "I'll be in and out tomorrow," he claimed, "You see me and you feel like bringing me over some butter…”

"I think you’ll definitely need some."

He looked down and made his way to the sink to wash his hands before turning to her with a smile. He ended the night the same way he had the night before, "I'll see ya around."

CLICK HERE FOR PART 2

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 15]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.2K

Chapter warning(s): Alcohol consumption, violence.

"(y/n)! There you are! Are you okay? Where were you?" Nana came to you with a worried Eve behind her.

"H-Huh? Oh yeah. Was just wandering around. Sorry, I didn't realise I was gone for so long." You forced a smile. There was a foreign feeling in your chest at how Hongjoong looked at you and spoke to you but you pushed it down.

"The big event of tonight is going on. The drivers look cute." Eve giggled as you all moved to a different spot to watch. Wooyoung was one of the drivers.

"That driver in the black car always wins. Him and his team." Nana leaned over to tell the two of you.

"They're all so good looking." Eve squealed, catching a glimpse of Hongjoong and the others who were seated together.

"Winner! Team Ateez!" The announcer yelled as Wooyoung's car passed the finishing line. Everyone cheered for him as Wooyoung stepped out with a confident smirk.

"It's getting a little stuffy. Can we go?" You asked your friends.

"Sure. The major events are over already anyway. And we can always come back." Nana chuckled as the 3 of you headed for the exit.

"(y/n)? Is that you?" You didn't expect Wooyoung to cross paths with you since the exit was near the finishing line. You could feel the prying stares of your friends on you.

"Hey..." You awkwardly waved. Wooyoung sent you a friendly smile and a wink before slinging his arm around San, who jogged over to congratulate his best friend. Before Wooyoung could tell San about you being here, San led him away. At the same time, you ushered your friends through the exit.

"YOU KNOW HIM?!" Eve and Nana shouted at you once you were outside, making you wince.

"Kind of...?" You rubbed the back of your neck.

"Ah, guys. It's complicated, I don't really want to talk about it." You sighed as your two friends threw all sorts of questions at you. But at your words, their eyes widened.

"No! It's nothing like that!" You knew what they were thinking and immediately shot it down.

"San, quit pushing me. I was gonna tell you that (y/n) was there." Wooyoung slapped his best friend on the arm.

"We know... We're not supposed to draw attention to ourselves remember? The whole secret... We cannot be seen with her when we don't know who is here." San reminded.

"You all saw her already?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow as he lit a fresh cigarette. San nodded his head.

"Damn... She must be shocked. WAIT! Did she seem Hongjoong hyung?" His eyes widened. San nodded glumly but judging by his reaction, it wasn't good. Wooyoung let out a curse and clicked his tongue as they walked to where the others were.

"But she looked hot. I barely recognised her, could have mistaken her for someone else." Wooyoung said and Mingi nodded in agreement, having almost flirted with you.

"Tell me about it. I was gonna ask her to come to the afterparty." Mingi mumbled.

"Shut up, you two." Seonghwa hissed, watching Hongjoong's stoic expression as the two talked behind him.

"Here." The organiser came over with their cut of the money. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Yeosang took their stacks, flipping through to money to count.

"It's all here. Thanks." Seonghwa nodded to the guy, keeping his money in his jacket pocket.

"Let's go." Hongjoong rounded everyone up.

"Yes, captain." The 7 got up and they all walked together, keeping at Hongjoong's pace since he had the cane. Everyone looked on in awe and slight fear of them, no one dared to approach or even make eye contact with any of them. Jongho opened the door to the passenger seat of Mingi's car for the captain.

"Thanks, Jong." Hongjoong sighed, annoyed that he couldn't even drive his own car with how busted his knee was. With that, the sports cars all peeled out of the parking area.

"How's the cane, hyung?" Mingi asked.

"The raven skull top is easier to hold than the human skull one." Hongjoong held up the cane.

"Also because Wooyoung and Seonghwa hyung bedazzled the human skull so it hurt to hold the top, right?" Jongho pointed out from the backseat.

"Exactly." Hongjoong rolled his eyes.

"They need better arts and crafts projects." Mingi laughed. And soon, the car pulled up to the back of Wooyoung's club, the VIP entrance.

"Boss, the VIP room is ready for you." The manager was out to greet them as they stepped out of their cars. Mingi handed his keys to the valet and ran to his place by Hongjoong's side.

"Slow pokes!" San stuck his tongue out as Mingi, Jongho and Hongjoong walked in.

"Not our fault grandpa takes so long to go up the stairs." Jongho snicked and Hongjoong jabbed him with his cane. Once they all sat down, in a private room, with a two way mirror to watch the rest of the club, they gave their orders to the manager.

"What's with you?" Yeosang asked Wooyoung, who was bouncing his leg as he spread his arms across the back of the couches, looking out into the club.

"Race adrenaline taking a while to wear off. I'm going for another smoke." Wooyoung stood up and went out.

"He's gonna beat someone up." Yunho chuckled.

"It's his place, he can do whatever he wants." Seonghwa shrugged. The manager brought the tray of drinks and some snacks, giving out the drinks to the respective members.

"I still can't believe we ran into (y/n) there." Yeosang shook his head as he took a sip.

"She was with friends, she said that they were the ones that brought her there. It's her first time at the races." San said.

"She shouldn't be there, it's too dangerous. It's even more dangerous that she recongised us and tried to talk to us." Hongjoong sighed with a click of his tongue.

"But hyung, she doesn't know that... We haven't told her anything so we can't blame her for not knowing. It's only natural that she says hi or talks to us when she sees us." Yunho spoke. Hongjoong shot Yunho a confused look while Seonghwa sighed, not liking where this was going.

"I never said I blamed her." Hongjoong frowned.

"I know but she just looked so hurt when you gave her the cold shoulder." Yunho shrugged and drank his drink.

"Why do you suddenly care so much about her?" Hongjoong stood up. Yes, Hongjoong got to know you first but for some reason, it irked him to see how easily friendly Yunho was with you.

"It's not that I suddenly care or anything. She's a friend, hyung. That's all." Yunho said, keeping completely calm.

"Okay, you two, stop it. Enough about (y/n). We're here to celebrate wins and relax." Seonghwa stood up between the two.

"Sorry, hyung." Yunho apologised to Seonghwa. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and grabbed his cane, leaving the room. He limped to the bar to get a refill.

"I need a stronger drink." Seonghwa mumbled, rubbing his temples.

"Woo." Hongjoong stepped out into the back alley, a filled glass of whiskey in his free hand.

"Oh, captain. What are you doing out here?" Wooyoung turned to see the leader and stood up from his crouched position over the body that was on the ground. Wooyoung shook his hands to relieve the slight ache that settled in his joints.

"Feel better?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, holding out his glass to Wooyoung to let him drink. The younger grinned and took it, taking a sip of the golden liquor.

"Yeah, the winning adrenaline wore off. Luckily we had this guy come here and stir trouble." Wooyoung nodded over to the body.

"What did he do?" Hongjoong scoffed.

"Does it matter?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. Hongjoong conceeded and didn't ask further. Like he said earlier, this was Wooyoung's place, he could do whatever he wanted.

"Is he dead?" Hongjoong asked.

"Nah, I punched his face in but not hard enough to kill him. I'll get my boys to move him somewhere." He took his phone out.

"Wooyoung sshi." A meek voice interruted them. Hongjoong didn't know the guy but Wooyoung seemed to. He gave the man a nod before he was handed something.

"Thanks." Wooyoung said and the man bowed before walking away. Wooyoung tucked the small item into his pocket.

"Looks like I got my next invite." He smirked to the captain. Finally, something that made Hongjoong smile that night. Wooyoung was doing well at the poker games, and with their reputation, he was constantly getting invited for the following games. This was good, it meant he could get information.

"I'll take San with me as my plus 1 for the next game. Take the chance to promote the casino too." Wooyoung informed, to which Hongjoong nodded.

"That's a good idea, it provides an opportunity for one of the next private games to be held there." Hongjoong said.

"Are you ready to head in? Or are you still angry at whoever fought with you?" Wooyoung chuckled.

"I didn't fight with anyone." Hongjoong rolled his eyes.

"Sure~" Wooyoung teased and held the door open for Hongjoong to walk in. The two headed back to the VIP area, where the others were. San was passed out in Yunho's lap and Seonghwa was half asleep.

"Hwa? Did you drink too much too fast again?" Hongjoong asked his best friend, who was swaying back and forth.

"You're an idiot..." Seonghwa punched Hongjoong's arm lightly before leaning his head on his shoulder.

"I know, I'm always causing you trouble." Hongjoong chuckled, patting Seonghwa's thigh as he drank his drink. Seonghwa hummed, snuggling against Hongjoong's shoulder.

"Yes! You are... You are... the worst... out of all the kids..." Seonghwa said amidst a tired yawn. Seonghwa and Hongjoong have always been there for each other, they are complete opposites but that's why they work so well together.

"Mingi, help Hwa. Let's go home before more of you pass out here." Hongjoong said.

"Yes, captain." Everyone who was awake/ sober replied. Hongjoong stayed in his spot, waiting for Mingi to come over and help Seonghwa up first.

"Careful, hyung." Yeosang helped Hongjoong stand.

"I'll call our drivers..." Jongho stumbled a little as he took his phone out. None of them were in the condition to drive.

"Alright, we should go. Make sure we have people come pick up the cars tomorrow." Hongjoong put a stack of money down on the table and they all left the VIP area to wait for the cars out back.

Once all the boys were loaded into the vans, the drivers drove them back home.

"I'm fine, help the others." Hongjoong stopped the butler from going to help him. The butler bowed and went to help the others instead.

"Ah, hyung. You should really move to one of the downstairs rooms. It'll be much easier on your knee." Yeosang said as he and Wooyoung supported each other up the stairs.

"There's no point since my office is upstairs anyway. It's easier to move between my room and office if I remain upstairs, I'm in there most of the time." Hongjoong reasoned as he went into his room, closing the door behind him. He tossed the cane aside, frankly annoyed by it already.

"Yun, I know you’re awake and sober." Mingi came crept into his best friend’s room. As if on cue, Yunho walked out of his bathroom, wiping his face with a towel.

"Mmm?" Yunho hummed and headed to his dresser to grabbed a t shirt, pulling it over his head.

"What did you need?" Yunho yawned, watching as Mingi climbed into his bed. It was such a common occurrence, they always slept in each other’s beds.

"Dude, why were you starting shit with Hongjoong hyung earlier? And don't blame the alcohol." Mingi raised an eyebrow.

"Geez, I wasn't trying to start anything. And no, I don't have a crush on (y/n)." Yunho said when he saw Mingi open his mouth, who closed it.

"(y/n)'s a nice girl and she's navigating grief just like Hongjoong hyung is..." Yunho started.

"Wait, hold on. Stop right there. Are you trying to set them up?!" Mingi let out a gasp of realisation. Yunho couldn't help the mischievous smirk that crept onto his face as Mingi gave a wary look.

"I'm not trying to set them up... actively trying, at least. I'm just trying to create opportunities for them to get to know each other better. But that aside, (y/n) is still human, Hongjoong hyung should be treating her nicer instead of treating her like us." Yunho shrugged.

"Look man, as your best friend, I just hope you know what you're doing." Mingi said, laying down on the pillow and pulling the blanket over him.

"And I'm not saying that for Hongjoong hyung. But I'd hate to see (y/n) be the one to come out of this hurt." He added.

-

"Ohhh..." Nana and Eve said in unison as you told them the gist of how you knew Hongjoong and the others. You nodded, nursing the hot cup of tea in your hands before you.

"So he's Mrs Kim's son?" Eve asked. You nodded in confirmation.

Instead of heading home after leaving the race, the 3 of you settled in a quiet 24 hour cafe to relax.

"Met him at the funeral and we've been acquainted ever since? I do gardening work at their house, that's it." You said, purposely leaving out that you and Hongjoong were 'friends'. Because after tonight, you were doubting this whole friends thing. Maybe it was all in your head and you weren't friends at all.

"But they're like... big, you know? I mean, I've seen them at the races, even thought I've only just started going. But they win, all the time." Nana said, sipping her coffee.

"Just be careful, alright (y/n)? They seem a little dangerous." Eve sent you a worried smile.

"I will, Eve. Don't worry." You smiled and finished your tea.

"And Mrs Kim was so nice! But we know she was very close with you, (y/n). It must not be easy." Nana sent you a sad smile. You let out a soft sigh at that.

Since it was a nice night out, you decided to split ways with your friends and walk home. It wasn't a far walk and you wanted some fresh air to breathe a little.

"What were you thinking, pabo?" You hit your temples with your fists as you walked home, thinking about what you did.

Maybe you shouldn't have approached Hongjoong. Who were you, compared to someone of his status?

"Ah, whatever." You let out a sigh of defeat as you entered your house. After taking a shower and changing into more comfortable clothes, you sat down and did some work. With a really big event coming up, you wanted to plan the floral designs.

You assumed that the event must be big or important because you were only given brief details about it like the time, date and location. And since you were on your own, your friends volunteered to help.

"Silver and black, huh?" You did a rough sketch of the table arrangements and floral pillars that would go by the doors.

*1 attachment sent to (y/n)'s Flower Fairies*

'I still question the name of this group chat... Why can't we have a normal name. - Jihoon'

'Shut up. It's cute! And the designs are cute, (y/n)! Also, why are you still working at this hour? Go to sleep and design stuff tomorrow! It's time to bed. - Nana'

'Yeah, sleep is important to stay healthy! - Hyunwoo'

'I will soon! I couldn't sleep so I thought I would tire myself out by doing some design work... - (y/n)'

'The designs are so prettyyyy but yes, go to bed (y/n)! And everyone else too - Eve'

You were grateful for your friends. It was a small group but you would always be ready to help each other if needed. They, along with Mrs Kim, made your world feel a lot less lonely.

With that, you put your iPad aside and tried to sleep since you knew you had to work tomorrow. You let out a sigh of relief when you realised that you were not working at Hongjoong's house tomorrow but just your own store. That would give you a few days to get over the odd ache in your chest that you felt.

Luckily work the next day was busy. On top of orders, you had to make some draft designs for the big event and send them over to the organiser for approval.

"(y/n)? Are you here?"

"Yeah, I'm at my work desk Hyunwoo!" You replied. Hyunwoo appeared from the hallway leading to the back door.

"Hey~ Is that the design for the event? It's pretty." He complimented as he took a seat across your work table. You hummed in confirmation and continued working.

"I hope you don't mind, I'm here to escape from stuffy clients and have my lunch in peace." He grinned.

"Of course I don't. Go ahead. You own the place and yet, you're running away." You giggled.

"The reality of business." He sighed exasperatedly and took his lunch box out. Since you were working during your lunch, you had packed a sandwich from home to make it easier to eat and work.

"That's not enough, (y/n)." Hyunwoo said, noticing your small sandwich compared to his huge lunch box with many layers.

"I'm not bulking like you so it's more than enough for me. You know I don't really eat much for lunch when I am distracted. Plus, I have a box of fruit in the fridge that I'll eat later." You said, nodding over to the fridge. Hyunwoo sent you a suspicious look.

"You shouldn't even be working during your lunch in the first place." Hyunwoo whined.

"I know but I'm excited to get this done. I haven't really done such a big event like this on my own before. Usually, I'm asked to be a part of an event team, never lead it." You chuckled.

"It's a great opportunity. I'm glad someone recognises your talent." Hyunwoo smiled as he ate his food.

"Thank you, Hyunwoo. I just hope I don't mess it up." You smiled.

"You won't. Have more faith in yourself. And maybe this will be the chance to get your shop's name out there. Get bigger and grow the business." He laughed.

"That's a very far dream. But I am happy where I am now too. Gives me time to work on my botany and practice it." You giggled.

"Which by the way, the recovery elixir I've added to my bone broth is super good. I feel amazing and have lesser muscle cramps, definitely quicker recovery after my work outs." He complimented.

"That's a relief. I'm glad it worked." You said, taking your journel down from the shelf and flipping to the page with the elixir recipe. You jotted down the notes and good review from Hyunwoo with a satisfied smile on your face. Then you went back to your previous task, which was photo taking.

"There, sent to the organiser. Hopefully they like it." You crossed your fingers and typed out the email with the photos attached to send to the organiser.

~

Series masterlist

[xetlynn]

arcane imagines- silco

Uptown Girl

[main page] [arcane]

prompt: in which reader is from piltover and is over the rich, everyday loop-lifestyle. sneaking out and going to the undercity to where she finds the last drop. (Inspired by the song Uptown Girl by Billy Joel)

inspiration and idea made by: @s1lc0luvr

Sitting quietly at the dinner table, tapping your foot in a bored motion. Antsy for the food to be served while your parents sit across from you. Sneakily glancing at one another due to their daughter’s incredibly dark makeup. “What happened to your new makeup kit we bought, dear?” Your father was the first to speak up which surprised you as it had always been your mother to call out your rebelliousness.

“Hm? Oh, it was too light.” You answered, peering back into the kitchen, ready to scarf down the food and head right back up to your room. “That um- that was the point, sweetheart.” His voice was sharp even with the short stammer. “It washed me out, I’m going for a darker look now.”

You weren’t really giving him the time of day, curt and simple responses as your eyes wandered over everything. As if you hadn’t lived here your entire life. The same thing every night. Dinner with your parents at 5, sometimes 6 if they were caught up in their work. Normally it’s quiet except for the few questions about your grades in school- now university.

Forced to wear neat and tidy clothing, dressed as if you were going out somewhere instead of the comforts of your own home. No elbows on the table. Posture straight, head up. Head down and it was a thirty minute lecture. “Darker is a bit… bold even for you. [Name].” Uh oh. First name. You were in for it now.

“Boldness is intriguing, I’m intriguing.” You hum, your face told them how uninterested you were. “You can be intriguing without the devilish makeup.” Your mother spoke up this time and finally your eyes snap in her direction. “Devilish? It’s just black eyeshadow.” You roll your eyes in annoyance. She always knew how to make 10 to 100.

“It’s the way you wear it, it’s not right on that beautiful face of yours.” She exclaims but you ignore her, the servers placing down the plates of food. Putting the leftovers onto the middle of the table. “Wash it off immediately after dinner.” Your mom asks- no, demands. “Planned on it. Gonna go to sleep early.” You lied, stuffing your mouth with the bland food that was similar to every other night.

“I don‘t think you understand me. You are not to wear it again.” She tells you, you look over at her for a moment, then back down to your food. “Understood.” Normally you’d argue but you knew it was a lost cause. Instead you were lying, telling her what she wants to hear and then you were to do it all over again.

At the end of dinner you excused yourself, thanking the cooks and servers for the meal before heading up to your bedroom. The same steps you take ever since you were a child. Dinner, then bed. Sleep then breakfast in silence like the night before. School, extracurricular, back home. Study, dinner, then back to bed.

A loop that was never ending.

A loop that you were getting sick and tired of.

Entering the bedroom you quickly lock the door behind you. Dropping to your knees beside your bed and pulling out a box filled with dark clothing. Carefully picking out a cute set and then shoving the box back underneath your bed. You knew tonight was going to be the night you finally snuck out.

Over this white bread lifestyle.

You needed to experience something new, something different than what you were used to.

You change out of the tight, pretty clothing. Roughly putting on the dark red tank top, ripped up black jeans with these spiked belts. Topping it off with leather boots that were a little ragged down.

•••

It wasn’t difficult to sneak out, climbing out of your window that had a small roof leading to a good ole climbing tree. Wandering into the Undercity, that was a bit more challenging. You had no idea where you were. Where you were going, no clue. But you needed to venture out. Experience more than what your parents had planned for you. Living inside a planner with no true grasp of the world outside.

And somehow, you were now standing outside of a bar. Hearing voices and clatter from the outside. Music and big booming voices of older men cheering for something.

Only time you’ve heard anything similar is when your parents threw a gathering with their work buddies. The men cheering for some sport they were into and the women gossiping about whatever… Leaving you alone with the children that didn’t have nanny’s or babysitters for the night. Anxiously you opened the door, your feet seemingly moving subconsciously further into the building.

A few eyes peered onto you, but instead of slouching you confidently lift yourself up. Steps more quicker and you sat down on the bar beside an unknown person.

You didn’t even look over at them. Staring straight ahead as if you were on some sort of mission. “What can I get for ya, lil lady.” A gruff voice comes from the rather large man in front of you. Your eyes flicker up to him.

“Surprise me?” You smile, eyes half-lidded. He snickers. “Got just the thing.” He nods his head, he glances over at his friend that was right next to you. Letting out a small snort before heading off to make your drink.

You didn’t notice that said friend had his eyes on you ever since you walked in. His eyes bulging out of his head, mouth going dry at the sight of you. You were quite possibly the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

And when you sat next to him it was as if his heart dropped to his stomach. Childishly it was like fate to him.

Now he kept sneaking little peeks your way, sipping on his own drink. Wondering if he should say something. He just couldn’t stop looking at you. Your very presence has him weak.

You fidgeted with your fingers as you patient wait for your first bar-made drink. Of course you’ve had alcohol, trying pathetic sips from your parent’s wine collection. Some of your father’s whiskey he head in his office. But never a full on drink to yourself.

Taking a deep breath you turned your head to the left, looking straight at the man who has already been staring at you for a while. His jerks a bit to look away but he fights himself. “Hi.” You breathily say, not expecting your neighbor to have been so… attractive.

Even his air was knocked out of him from actually seeing your face so close to his own. Accidentally spilling his own drink down the sides of his mouth. It dribbles down his chin. “Hello.” He rasps as he quickly wipes up the liquid.

“I’m [Name].” You stick a hand out, smiling at him. You didn’t know how to start this, this environment was all new to you. “Silco.” He takes your smaller hand into his own, giving it a firm shake. His hand was surprisingly cold but you kind of enjoyed the feeling. Letting him go felt heartbreaking almost. “Do you come here often?” It was a cliche, and common question that he had half the mind to make fun of you for but instead he answers truthfully.

“I do, the bartender, the owner is my friend. So I come in for the free drinks” He points to the large man who was talking and laughing with a customer as he continued to make your drink. “Oh, that’s cool. He’s the owner as well?” You inquire, going to lean your elbow on the counter to mirror the man beside you but stopping yourself in habit.

He catches that but ignores it, focusing back on your face. Observing every crevice and curvature of it. “Mhm, his name is Vander- I haven’t seen you around here before, you’re not from Zaun, are you?” He quizzes and your body stiffens.

“Is it noticeable?” You murmur, the corners of his lips etched upwards. “Only a little bit, to ones paying close attention.” He answers and you gaze up at him. “And you’re paying close attention to me?” It was bold.

And as he was about to respond a heavy glass smacks down in front of you.

“A good Old Fashioned.” He says, Silco lets out a small huff, glaring up at his long time friend who had a smug smirk of his own. “Thank you! How much is it?” You reach into your pocket but he shakes his head. “On the house for the first timer.” He winks at you before walking away. Leaving you and Silco alone once again.

“Oh! Your friend is quite nice.” You grin, taking a small drink of the alcoholic beverage.

Silco watches as your eyebrows scrunch together, along with your nose as you dislike the drink before quickly trying to cover it up with another smile.

“So, Silco. You were paying close attention to me?” You ask in a flirty tone. He was amused by you, the way you continued to drink down the wretched liquid you obviously didn’t like. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” He answers, taking the glass from your hand and replacing it with his own.

“You’ll like this better.” He promises, you raised a brow but decide to trust him. Trying it, your eyes instantly light up. “This is a lot better!” You say and he chuckles. “It’s a favorite of mine.” He informs you as you take another drink. “What is it?”

•••

That was the first night of many, making an effort to come and see him at least two times in the week. Silco was a breath of fresh air that you couldn’t get enough of, wanting to know more about him.

Dressing in edgier and edgier clothing, making sure to match the colors you saw him wearing the last time you saw him. And once he noticed that, he’d attempt to do the same.

You were head over heels for him, talking about him to friends from University. Telling them how sweet he was to you. How even though he’s from the Undercity he was quite careful with you. Gentle in the way he spoke.

And Silco couldn’t get enough of you, counting down the hours until he saw you. The way his heart raced thinking about you. His eyes dilating each time he spoke of you to his best friend. He didn’t even mind being teased by the big lug.

He knew you were out of his league but he didn’t care. He selfishly kept talking to you. Entertaining the thought of being with you.

•••

“Silco!!” You sang, placing down a box. His face scrunched in confusion, looking down at what’s in front of him. “Open it.” You excitedly beam, clasping your hands together. “You don’t have to get me anything, [Name]. This is the fifth gift you’ve given me.”

The way your name rolls off his tongue makes you want to melt right then and there in the spot. The feeling making you giddy. “Open it.” You repeat, ignoring his words. He lets out a short breath through his nose. Doing as told. It was a bracelet.

Lately it’s been things he’s told you he’s been meaning to get from the market. Never having the time to get them so you’re sure to make your own time and grab them each time your parents make you go out. And every time you gift them he’d say the same thing. “[Name], you didn’t need to do this.”

This time it’s a bracelet. This shocked him, he lifted it out of the box. Admiring the black leather that had yours and his names engraved into it. “I hope it’s not too bold of me. But I really like you.” You take the bracelet from him, unsnapping it open. “We even have matching ones.” You show him your own wrist. Waiting for him to give you his own wrist to snap on the leather.

“It might be a little childish, if it is. I apologize. I can understand.” You sheepishly say, fiddling with the bracelet in between your fingers. Instead of saying anything he shoves his wrist out in front of you. Seemingly speechless. “You like it?” You tilt your head.

“Put it on.” He says and you giggle, taking his wrist and gently placing the bracelet underneath, bringing each side over and snapping it. He watches as you do so. His eyes filled with admiration.

“Perfect.” You tap it three times, your eyes now catching his.

“Perfect.” He repeats softly.