#and every time I watch it I wish there were more :(

[shomatoriashi]

11/26/24; 10:00pm

sylus x fem.reader (non mc)

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

notes: once a sylus girly, always a sylus girly…

admittedly, your first meeting with sylus occurred in a more… unorthodox manner.

that night, you had just gotten off a late shift at work, feeling the cool air cause slight shivers to course through you. you hug your coat tighter to your form all while taking in your surroundings.

as you kept walking, you became aware of a suspicious pair of footsteps that seemed to follow your every move.

when you stopped, the same lingering steps would stop as well.

each time you would turn a corner or dash to the other side of the street-

you swore you could feel the hairs raising at the back of your neck at the strange sensation of being watched and followed.

not wishing to lead this bastard straight to your apartment, your eyes take in the sight of the neon lights that flash above you, reading the name of the bar as you entered crow’s haven for the first time.

the bar was dimly lit with a surprising number of patrons all scattered throughout the area. as your eyes take in the lavish furniture and the expensive alcohol everyone was consuming, you slowly began to realize just how out of place you were while in this high class bar.

the sounds of doors opening makes you stiffen, with you looking back to see an unfamiliar man walk in, dark eyes scanning the bar before landing on your frozen form. letting out a string of curses, you turn away from the entrance and began heading deeper inside of the bar, your gaze finally landing on a tall man with silver locks of hair.

you take in the sight of his pristine, black and red suit and make a beeline toward him. your hands reach out to grab at the ends of the expensive fabric, earning you a momentary look of disdain from the man as he acknowledges you with a narrowed, crimson gaze.

“what’s this? has a kitten gotten lost and found her way into a crow’s lair?”

shivers were felt running down your spine at the sound of his rich voice felt reverberating in your ear. “s-sorry, but, i need your help. can you pretend to be my boyfriend, at least until that fucker backs off?”

the man immediately straightens his posture, towering over you as he stood well past 6 feet in height. he places a hand on your shoulder, already seeing the unknown man making his way toward you.

“didn’t i tell you how dangerous it is to talk to strangers, sweetie?” you allow him to take a protective stance in front of you, gazing at the man who stalked you with a bored expression.

“hey man, i don’t mean no harm, just wanted to talk to that pretty lady over there.” the man gestures at you, yet before he can take another step a sudden click was heard, causing your stalker’s eyes to go wide when he was suddenly faced with a barrel of a gun.

“she’s mine.” those final words rang with such finality that you nearly fell to your knees. have you ever met a man that exuded such confidence before in your life? a man who’s beauty could rival that of gods themselves-

no, absolutely not.

the man backs away while stuttering out excuses, and to add insult to injury, your savior merely snaps his fingers as several men surrounded your potential stalker before physically escorting him out of the club.

relief courses through you, and you watch as your savior returns his gun back into the confines of his suit. the bartender already tends to him, refilling his shot glass of whiskey. as you take a moment to calm down your rapidly beating heart, you carefully step aside, “ah, thank you… for helping me back there. i should… probably head home-“

he stops you from moving forward by gently gripping at your wrist, “i don’t think that’s a good idea, kitten. after all, if you leave my safety, then there’s a chance that he’s standing out there, waiting for you.” crimson eyes now shone with amusement while he downs his shot of whiskey in a single gulp, not even fazed by the burn of the alcohol, “and i’ve already told him that you’re mine, kitten.”

unable to speak, you watch as he leans forward to take your hand in his, pressing a kiss at the back of it before telling you, “the name’s sylus… and i don’t mind keeping you under my protection until things settle down. what do you say?”

truthfully, you would be a fool not to take him up on his offer.

which lead you to where you are now, where sylus has been your “fake boyfriend” for close to two years now.

and that fact made you feel so giddy and stupidly in love with him.

sunlight streams through the window, painting your shared bedroom in brilliant hues. too happy to sleep in, you had woken up first to prepare some breakfast in bed for sylus in celebration of your anniversary. with several breakfast items on the tray, you tiptoe into the room, your smile breaking into a grin upon seeing sylus sleeping on his chest.

setting off your tray of breakfast to the side, you crept closer to the bed, wishing to tease your beloved a bit this morning. doing a countdown in your head, you land against sylus’s back, earning a grunt from him as you littered his skin with a plethora of kisses.

“hehe, morning sysy…”

sylus lets out a series of grumbles, slowly turning around so that he was lying back in bed while taking you within his embrace. “hmph… you’re up early. and you’re hyper, too.”

you gasp, “i am not hyper! i’m just incredibly happy today… and you know what today is, so don’t even pretend.”

a rich chuckle fills your ears, making you shiver once more in response. despite the millions of times you have basked in his voice, you couldn’t seem to get used to it, as it still sent pleasant sensations to course through you.

“truly… thinking back on that night when we first met- i was scared. i didn’t want some creep to know where i lived-“

“and so the lost kitten made her way inside a crow’s lair, seeking shelter.” a devilish grin spreads across sylus’s lips when he presses a quick kiss against your lips, “and the crow took pity on her and made a promise to keep her safe.”

“yeah…” you trail off and smile at the memory. deep down, you knew you were drawn to sylus and could sense that he was more than capable of protecting you.

you didn’t regret meeting him at all.

shaking your head, you break out of your reveries and smile back at sylus, “that’s why, i really wanted to celebrate our two year anniversary together. i decided to start off by making some breakfast in bed for you.”

you gesture towards the desk, earning a pleased hum from sylus. “i must say, that’s very thoughtful of you, kitten. however… i hope you won’t be too upset when i tell you that the type of hunger i have cannot be satiated by something as simple as food.” he frames at your face, smirk seeming to widen when he captures a lock of your hair and twirls it against his fingertips, “in fact, what i crave for is something far more decadent.”

“huh? what do you mean?”

sylus simply shakes his head, “instead of answering with words, why don’t i show you with my actions?”

“oh… okay…?”

you trail off, feeling your lips turn dry when sylus moves down your body, settling himself between your legs as he pushes up the fabric of your oversized shirt. his crimson gaze focuses solely on you while he breathes in your scent, settling his lips against your inner thigh. keeping his eyes shut, he basks in your scent before using one of his hands to grip at the waistband of your panties.

already, you felt the moisture beginning to pool between your legs, your breathing slowly turning labored when sylus pulls your panties down the rest of the way using his teeth alone. amusement and desire paints his gaze as he meets your slicked core, taking in the scent of your honeyed arousal before delving into your walls with his tongue.

the wet muscles was felt pushing inside of you, giving you such a hedonistic friction that had to be sinful with how good it felt. your hands automatically go into his hair, and you found yourself pressing your aching sex even deeper against him. sylus was relentless when it came to tasting you, drinking up all you had to offer as he made sure that not even a single drop of your arousal fell against the sheets.

playing your body with a familiar expertise, your back arches against the mattress as your climax rushes out of you in waves, your gasps quickly morphing into broken moans of his name, earning a pleased grunt from the onychinus leader.

your mind was in a daze after such an intense release, yet you remained in such a muddled state even as sylus pulled you closer to him by your ankles. rapid movements were felt below you, and when you blearily looked to the side, you felt your walls clench in response to sylus rapidly stroking his cock to full hardness before he presses his mushroom tip against your entrance.

“you drive me crazy, kitten. ever since the moment i laid eyes on you, you were truly mine.” he completes his statement by fully thrusting into you, bottoming out while setting a rapid pace. your legs wrap around his waist as you felt a newfound urgency at reaching your completion with him. the squelching sounds of your lovemaking echoes throughout the room while sylus continues to press lingering kisses against your damp skin all while hotly whispering into your ear-

“happy anniversary, sweetie… let’s celebrate by never leaving this bed.”

end notes: an unedited thirst post that needs to be written for all of the sylus girlies out there (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[charminglygrouped]

Charlotte did suspect something, but I wouldn't go so far as to say she definitely saw it coming. At Rosings, we read:

“What can be the meaning of this?” said Charlotte, as soon as he was gone. “My dear Eliza, he [Mr. Darcy] must be in love with you, or he would never have called on us in this familiar way.” But when Elizabeth told of his silence, it did not seem very likely, even to Charlotte’s wishes, to be the case; and, after various conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to proceed from the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was the more probable from the time of year. All field sports were over. Within doors there was Lady Catherine, books, and a billiard table, but gentlemen cannot be always within doors; and in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied by their aunt. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he had pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of course recommended him still more [...]. But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage it was more difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice—a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom appeared really animated. Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s occasionally laughing at his stupidity proved that he was generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told her; and as she would have liked to believe this change the effect of love, and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself seriously to work to find it out: she watched him whenever they were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success. He certainly looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often doubted whether there were much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but absence of mind. She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of his being partial to her, but Elizabeth always laughed at the idea; and Mrs. Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from the danger of raising expectations which might only end in disappointment; for in her opinion it admitted not of a doubt, that all her friend’s dislike would vanish, if she could suppose him to be in her power.

Then again, Charlotte of course knows less of the situation than Elizabeth does.

i love how a big part of elizabeth bennet’s character is that she is obviously very smart, she is very observant, but she can easily be led astray by her preconceived notions, by things that she already has convinced herself of believing. and this is most obvious by her not seeing mr. darcy’s proposal coming at all, because girl that man was openly flirting with her. i don’t think this is shown a lot in the movie or the tv series, but he keeps teasing her, answering her witty remarks with a smile, the whole “i am not afraid of you” thing. like, charlotte saw it coming, colonel fitzwilliam definitely saw it coming, the gardiners knew as soon as they saw them together later in the book, mr darcy was not as subtle as he thought he was being

seriously, god bless you jane austen for giving us this romance of two fucking idiots constantly misunderstanding each other’s actions and intentions. god bless you for giving us mr “aha so like what do you think of your friend’s marriage? you wouldn’t mind living away from your family when you marry right? oh, no reason, no reason, just a random thought. and what do you think of rosings, you know if hypothetically you were ever a guest there, no, no reason hehe”, and miss “i wonder why i keep coming across mr darcy during my walks, i even made sure to tell him that this is where i usually take my walks so he can avoid me but we are still??? running into each other???? and he keeps asking me all these strange questions too, what a weirdo”

just, two idiots that were made for each other

[rue-isabelle]

Aphrodite of Formula 1

Yn had never imagined working as Toto’s personal assistant would put her in the spotlight. Her days were filled with managing schedules, coordinating meetings, and ensuring the smooth running of the Mercedes team. She loved her job—it was busy yet calm, a perfect balance for her. But what she didn’t realize was how much her presence had captivated the entire Formula 1 paddock.

She was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t just her looks. Yn was gentle, intelligent, and kindhearted, with an easygoing demeanor that made her magnetic to everyone she met. Her ability to handle pressure while keeping a warm smile never went unnoticed—especially by the drivers.

---

Charles and Alexandra

Charles leaned against the wall of the Mercedes hospitality, watching Yn chat animatedly with Toto. His lips curved into a soft smile as he took in her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with genuine interest in every conversation.

Alexandra stood nearby, fuming. “I don’t get it,” she muttered under her breath.

“What’s that?” Charles asked, not looking at her.

Alexandra crossed her arms. “What’s so special about her? She’s just… Toto’s assistant.”

Charles finally turned to face her, his smile gone. “Don’t talk about Yn like that.” His tone was sharp, protective.

Alexandra blinked in surprise. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just saying—”

“She’s kind, she’s smart, and she doesn’t need to try. She’s perfect just the way she is. She isnt.tge one.getting jealous about every tiny thing. And to be honest, she is a better person than you will ever be. At least she doesn't use me for fame and my name. She would never be a gold digger and has never done anything to you. You are the one acting fragile and shy, while we both know you are just jealous. Yn has always been a sweetheart to you and i wont let you talk liek that to her.” Charles said firmly.

Alexandra felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She had tried everything to mimic Yn’s effortless grace, from her style to her mannerisms, but it only made her feel more inadequate. The problem was that she didn't have Yn big heart and good soul.

Charles sighed and walked away, disappointed to call her his girlfriend, leaving Alexandra standing there, humiliated. Her cheeks were a deep shade of red. Some people nearby were giving her dirty looks. She glanced back at Yn, who was now walking towards the drivers’ paddock, blissfully unaware of the tension she had caused.

---

Carlos and Rebecca

Rebecca wasn’t blind. She could see the way Carlos’s eyes followed Yn every time she entered the room. He would light up like a kid in a candy store, his usually suave demeanor crumbling into something boyish and endearing. Sometimes, he would even beg his cousin to take a picture of Yn, just so he could see her every day. She was his wallpaper on his phone after all.

“Carlos,” Rebecca said one evening as they sat in their hotel room.

“Hmm?” he murmured distractedly, scrolling through his phone, looking at Yn Instagram. Oh, how he wished to be there right now. He was the one sending her flowers every week, paying her rent, and sending her random gifts.

“You’re in love with Yn, aren’t you?”

Carlos froze, his thumb hovering over the screen. “What? No! I mean… she’s great, but—”

Rebecca laughed softly, cutting him off. “It’s okay. I get it.”

Carlos looked at her, guilt written all over his face. “Rebecca, I—”

She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t blame you. Yn is… amazing.” Her voice softened as she spoke.

Rebecca’s thoughts drifted for a moment, imagining herself with Yn, walking down an aisle, just the two of them in some intimate, fairy-tale wedding. She could see it in front of her, their beach house in Malibu. They would go shopping every day, she would dress Yn in the finest clothes. She could imagine Yn pregnant, carrying their child. She would kiss her breathless, lead her into their bedroom and...

She snapped back to reality and cleared her throat. “I’m not mad. I just wish…”

“Wish what?” Carlos asked cautiously.

Rebecca didn’t answer. Instead, she turned away, her mind swirling with thoughts of Yn’s gentle smile. Oh, how she wished to finally leave Carlos. She played often with the thought about breaking up with Carlos and running away. Oh, what a beautiful dream, a life without Carlos obsession over Yn, while she obsesses over her.

---

Max and Kelly

Max was leaning against the Red Bull garage, trying—and failing—to look casual as Yn walked by. Kelly noticed the way his entire demeanor changed when Yn was around. It was infuriating.

“Max,” Kelly said sharply.

He tore his gaze away from Yn and looked at Kelly. “What?”

“You’re staring at her again.”

Max frowned. “I wasn’t—”

“You were.” Kelly’s voice was bitter. “You act like she’s the only person in the world when she’s here.”

“She’s nice,” Max said defensively. “And she works hard. What’s wrong with that?”

Kelly scoffed. “You’re obsessed with her. Everyone is.”

Max didn’t deny it. Instead, he looked back towards Yn, who was now chatting with George and Oscar. “It’s not like she’s trying to get anyone’s attention. That’s what makes her… different.”

Better, was what he was thinking. There were so many moments where Max knew Kelly was just using him for his fame and that he could be a father to Penelope. He told everyone the age difference didn't matter, but it did. He felt like he was in a relationship with his own mother.

Kelly’s jealousy bubbled over, but she bit her tongue, knowing any outburst would only make Max more defensive. Oh, how she wanted that little disease called Yn to vanish forever from her life.

---

Oscar and Lily

Oscar was shy by nature, and his crush on Yn only amplified it. He could barely string a sentence together when she was around, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red whenever she smiled at him.

“You should talk to her,” Lily said encouragingly.

Oscar shook his head furiously. “I can’t. What would I even say?”

“Anything! Just be yourself,” Lily said with a laugh. “She’d probably find it adorable.”

Oscar groaned. “Lily, she’s way out of my league.”

“Everyone feels that way about her,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “But she doesn’t act like it. That’s why everyone loves her. Including me, by the way.”

Oscar’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

Lily grinned. “What? I can’t appreciate Yn too?”

---

George and Carmen

Carmen adored Yn like a little sister. She often invited her to lunch, bought her small gifts, and even shared personal stories about her relationship with George.

“She’s like family,” Carmen said one evening as she and George prepared for a gala.

George forced a smile, adjusting his tie in the mirror. “Yeah… family.”

Carmen didn’t notice the wistful look in his eyes or the way he always seemed to find excuses to spend more time with Yn. The way he always had to walk up those stairs behind her, to make sure she didn't trip (and to admire her ass). Or his need to always show her how to do every training workout right (imaging her sweaty skin underneath his rough palm for a different scenario)

“You should invite Yn to the gala,” Carmen suggested. “I think she’d enjoy it.”

George’s heart skipped a beat. “You think so?”

“Of course! I’ll text her now,” Carmen said cheerfully. Oh, how excited she was to see her baby again. Her beautiful innocent angle.

George nodded, hiding the turmoil inside. He loved Carmen deeply, but Yn… Yn had a way of making the world seem brighter.

---

Pierre and Kika

Kika and Pierre didn’t hide their admiration for Yn. They often joked about being in a polyamorous relationship with her, though there was a hint of seriousness in their laughter.

“She’s perfect,” Kika said one evening as they lounged in their hotel room.

Pierre grinned. “I know. But don’t get any ideas—she’s mine.”

Kika raised an eyebrow. “Yours? I don’t think so. If anything, she’d pick me.” Deep down, she wished Yn would pick them over anything.

Pierre laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.” Hoping, to one day call this woman their wife.

Despite their playful rivalry, they both knew Yn was oblivious to their feelings—and to everyone else’s, for that matter.

They didn't need to talk about the things they imagined doing with her. If it could just be easier.

---

Yn hummed to herself as she sorted through some paperwork in Toto’s office. She loved the quiet moments when she could focus on her tasks, unaware of the chaos she caused outside her bubble.

When Toto walked in, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re always so calm. It’s impressive, considering how much you have to deal with.”

Yn smiled. “I like keeping busy. It makes the day go by faster.”

Toto chuckled. “You’re something else, Yn. Don’t ever change.”

She didn’t notice the knowing look Toto gave her or the way the drivers seemed to hover outside the door, hoping for a chance to talk to her. To Yn, it was just another day at work—a job she genuinely loved, with people she genuinely cared about.

Little did she know, the entire grid worshipped her.

Part 2. Part 3

[sceletaflores]

well, all right i’m bad, but then you’re no prize either…

pair: joel miller x fem!reader

wc: 8.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, no ellie, general violence (only referenced), age gap (56/26), swearing, so many spacers lmao, not quite friends to lovers and not quite enemies to lovers but a weird other thing, kinda mean!joel for a good sec, dressing wounds, joel miller TUMMY, loss of virginity (reader is a virgin but she's not completely oblivious and weirdly infantile about it lmao), fingering (fem!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex whoops, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, porn with a tiny plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: well, i finally caved y’all. baby’s first tlou fic! this literally took me forever to write and even longer to post cause i was so terrified LMAO so please give me some grace if it’s shit and he’s ooc and timelines are a little fuzzy cause i barely know what i’m doing. thank you chickens love you mwah mwah mwah. kisses!

dividers by lovely @saradika-graphics!

joel found a lodge house…

You don’t know what you did to make Joel Miller hate you so much.

He's never outright said it, but you know it’s there—in every sharp glance, every clipped word, every deliberate avoidance.

Besides, his silence is worse than anything he could say. A quiet condemnation that settles in your chest like stone.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that you don’t care what he thinks, but the truth is harder to swallow.

You do care—more than you want to admit. His approval, his respect, hell, even a sliver of kindness from him feels like an impossible prize you’ll never win.

And you hate yourself for wanting it. For needing it.

It's not just the weight of his disdain that eats at you, it's the not knowing why. God, do you wish you could ask him why.

What did you do to make him look at you like you’re some necessary evil he has to tolerate. Why does he hold some unspoken grudge that's manifested itself into something you couldn't dream of ever comprehending.

But the thought of confronting Joel feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into a void that might swallow you whole.

So instead, you do what you've always done. You keep your distance, try to match his indifference with your own, and tell yourself it’s better this way.

You were young when the outbreak hit, six years old.

You’re sure that’s part of it. That that’s how Joel sees you, as some bumbling, naive child who’s more of a hassle than anything else.

Another mouth to feed, another back to watch, baggage.

You've been with him for almost seven months now, traveling side by side when you may have well been miles apart. Trekking through abandoned cities, overgrown highways, and every godforsaken patch of wilderness in between.

In the beginning, you did everything you could to prove him wrong.

You pushed yourself past your limits, hunted, scavenged, fought, kept up. You did everything that needed to be done without hesitation.

All to show that you were more than what he made you out to be. It never seemed to matter much.

After you lost your parents in the early days of the outbreak, it was just you and your sister. She taught you everything you know, taught you how to survive.

It's because of her that you know how to shoot a rifle, how to skin a rabbit, how to start a fire with nothing but sticks and dried moss, how to snap bones and locate which vital arteries bleed out the quickest.

It's because of her that you've been able to hone some sick skill in the maiming of clickers.

A skill you never thought you'd need to use on her.

You were supposed to be safe in the QZ. You weren't supposed to be fifteen years old, aiming a gun at the one person you had left.

Your own flesh and blood wasn't supposed to be the very first in a long list of red tallies under your belt.

It’s been years and you’ve still never forgotten that day. December 19th, 2012, the date burned into your brain like someone took a branding iron to the tissue.

You can’t count the amount of times you’ve been ripped from your sleep drenched in a cold sweat with the tail end of a scream tearing at the skin of your throat.

The image of what was left of your sister, slumped on the ground lifeless as her blood painted the wall behind her flashing behind your closed eyelids. The sound of her last labored breath ringing in your ears louder than any shotgun blast.

You ran that same night, with the weight of her death on your shoulders.

Your entire world spinning out around you as you clawed through barbed wire fencing, not caring where you were going or what would happen to you—just needing to escape.

There was nothing left for you to do after that but survive. And that’s what you did, for years, scraping by in a world that had already chewed you up and spit you out a mangled mess.

You learned how to be ruthless because of it.

How to harden yourself against the loss, the pain, the brutality. But there were cracks, too. Cracks you hid well, buried deep beneath layers of stubbornness and distance.

The endless days blurred into each other. Empty houses, hollow streets. A life reduced to scavenging, hiding, and the occasional, fleeting moment of human connection that inevitably ended in loss. 

And then you found yourself with Joel.

You hadn’t exactly found him, though. More like crashed into his orbit by accident.

A few desperate days spent scavenging through the ruins of a small town, a chance encounter that left you both wary and unwilling to turn your backs.

But, inexplicably, you somehow became part of his traveling routine.

He wasn’t like any of the others you’d met before. At first, you thought he might be different. A man who seemed broken, but different nonetheless.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, you began to see the truth. Joel Miller wasn’t concerned with you. He didn’t need you. And, more than that, he didn’t want you around. 

You didn’t know what to do with that.

It’s a bitter kind of irony. You’ve survived all this time completely on your own, fought tooth and nail to stay alive, but with him, you might just crumble.

Joel found a lodge house. It's a small, weathered place tucked away in the dense trees of the wood surrounding it.

He only deemed it suitable after an extensive perimeter check and a thorough sweep of the interior.

It's not much—just another run-down place in the middle of nowhere—but for the first time in what feels like forever, it’s a roof over your head for the night.

The walls are sturdy, though the windows are cracked and half of the floorboards creak like they're about to give out at any moment.

You explored the second floor alone, creeping through the desolate rooms and taking in all that was left behind.

Old family photographs covered in thick layers of dust, worn clothes riddled with holes still hung in the few closets you stumble across.

The oddest of all was an old jewelry box tucked away in a dresser draw, tarnished silver dull and muddy.

The sound of familiar footsteps comes from somewhere behind you. The door creaks open slowly.

Joel. Of course.

He clears his throat, the sound abrasive in the quiet of the house.  

“Fire’s low,” he says, voice rough from its lack of use today.

You don’t turn around, not yet. You take the box in your gloved hand, running your fingers across the intricate design of the lid, touch trailing over winding vines and small roses.

“Okay,” you mutter, your voice coming out quieter than you intended. “I’ll grab some more wood later.”

Another beat of silence. Then, “It’s gettin’ cold out, I’ll go.”

Your fingers pause their ministrations, moving to flip the lid open. Empty.

“Suit yourself,” you reply after a moment, your tone just as neutral as his.

Joel doesn’t leave right away. You hear the floorboards groan beneath his weight, his presence lingering in the doorway. 

You wonder what he’s waiting for, or if he’s waiting at all.

Finally, he speaks. “Don’t touch anything.”

With that he turns and leaves the room, you wait until you can’t hear his footsteps trailing down the stairs anymore to let out the scoff festering in your chest.

You snap the jewelry lid shut with a little more force than necessary. “Asshole.”

Joel's been gone for a while now. Longer than it takes to chop a few logs for firewood.

You came down from the upstairs a few minutes after hearing the tell-tale sound of the heavy door opening and closing. The main room is quiet, save for the soft crackle of the dwindling fire.

You're perched on an old armchair near the entrance, peering out the dirty window that has the best view of the treeline as you nervously pick the skin around your nails.

You tell yourself not to worry. He’s probably fine, he’s been doing this a lot longer than you. And if Joel is anything, it’s annoyingly competent.

Still, a nagging doubt itches at the back of your mind. It's been at least half an hour, maybe more.

You’re just about to grab your own pack and go looking for him when the front door creaks open.

Joel stumbles inside, the frigid evening air rushing in behind him before he slams the door shut. At first glance, he looks fine—no more haggard than usual. 

But then you notice the way he favors his left side, the way his free hand is pressed against his ribs, blood seeping through his fingers and staining his torn undershirt.

You’re on your feet in an instant.

“Fuck,” you say, voice sharper than you expected. “What the hell happened?”

“Raiders.” Is the only explanation you get as he tries to brush past you like it’s nothing. The stiff way he moves and the tightens of his jaw betray him. “S’just a scratch.”

“Bullshit,” you snap, stepping in front of him and blocking his path to the fire. “Sit. Now.”

He gives you a look, one of those deep, withering glares you’ve seen him use to intimidate countless others into submission. But you stand your ground, chin raised and jaw set–defiant. 

His stubbornness finally meeting its match in your own. 

Finally, with a low growl of frustration, he drops onto the couch. “Happy now?”

"Not until you let me take care of that." You motion toward his side, where the blood is still spreading.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, lolling his head back to rest more heavily on the couch.

“Sure you are,” you snap, crossing the room to rifle through your bag. “And I’m the fucking Queen of England.”

"Said I’m fine," he bites through gritted teeth, but you’re already moving, heading back to him with the first aid kit from your pack.

"You want to bleed out on this ugly-ass couch? Be my guest," you shoot back, dropping to your knees in front of him. "Otherwise, shut up and let me help."

Joel surprisingly doesn’t argue any further, just sighs heavily and reluctantly sinks further into the couch cushions.

You push the front of his jacket open to slide it off his shoulders as gently as you can, peeling back the layer of his flannel next.

The smell of blood hits you immediately.

The gash is about five inches long, trailing the span of his ribcage. It’s deep—but not fatal—just an angry red and oozing blood.

Definitely not the simple 'scratch' he made it out to be.

Your stomach churns at the sight, but you push it down. No time for that.

“Jesus, Joel,” you mutter under your breath, reaching for the alcohol in your kit. “You really know how to underplay a situation, huh?”

He doesn’t respond, just watches you with those dark, calculating eyes of his. Always watching, always assessing.

It’s unnerving, but you focus on the task at hand, grabbing a clean cloth and soaking it with alcohol.

“This is gonna hurt,” you warn, though there’s a part of you that doesn’t mind the idea of causing him a little discomfort.

A petty, vindictive part that still stings from all the scorn he’s thrown your way.

“Just get it over with,” Joel grits out, his voice low and gravelly.

You don’t give him any more warnings as you wipe the soaked cloth over the wound. He flinches, a harsh curse slipping through clenched teeth, but he doesn’t pull away.

You work as quickly as you can, wiping away the blood and dirt with steady hands, your movements as gentle as possible given the situation.

You let out an annoyed huff when the torn fabric of his shirt gets in the way of your hands for a second time.

You lean back on your heels, glancing up at Joel. “You need to take your shirt off.”

Joel raises a brow at you, his lips pressing into a thin line. “That really necessary?”

“Yes, it’s necessary, Joel,” you huff, already losing patience. “Unless you want me to sit here and cut around every thread of this ratty thing while you bleed out, then by all means—”

He sighs heavily, cutting you off as he shifts forward and grabs the hem of his shirt. He tugs at the fabric, grunting in pain each time it strains his ribs.

You roll your eyes at how slow he’s moving, and your patience—already worn thin by the day's events—snaps.

“Jesus Christ, let me help,” you huff, reaching forward and grabbing the fabric.

Joel jerks back slightly, his hand shooting up to stop yours mid-motion. “I got it,” he growls, a sharp edge in his voice.

You glare at him, your hand still caught in his grip. His palm is calloused, his hold firm enough to make your pulse jump unexpectedly. 

For a moment, the two of you just sit there, locked in a silent standoff.

Then he releases your hand and pulls the shirt over his head himself, wincing as the movement pulls at his side.

You wait with your arms crossed, trying to ignore the awkward flutter of nerves in your stomach as the fabric peels away to reveal his chest.

Joel’s broad, solid frame isn’t new to you. You’ve seen him shirtless before—brief glimpses when bathing in rivers or changing in run down houses between stops.

But this time feels different, more intimate somehow.

You’re staring, and you know it.

The firelight cast shadows over his skin, illuminating old scars, faint lines of muscle, the barely there jut of his stomach over the hem of his jeans.

You had been getting more game kills recently, two hunters are always better than one.

Joel clears his throat, dragging your focus back to the present. “You gonna gawk all night, or can we move this along?”

You snap out of it, scowling to cover your embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

You finish cleaning the gash and grab the small needle and thread lying next to you.

“This’ll hurt worse than the alcohol,” you say, threading the needle easily.

Joel snorts, a rare sound. “Figures.”

The needle pierces his skin, and this time, you catch the smallest hitch in his breath. He doesn’t make a sound, but his jaw tightens, the veins in his neck standing out like cords.

His hands grip the edge of the couch hard enough that his knuckles turn white with it, but he doesn’t tell you to stop or slow down.

He’s too damn proud for that.

You shift closer, your knee brushing against his leg as you position yourself to work from a better angle. You feel his eyes on you, that intense, scrutinizing stare that makes your skin prickle.

“You’ve done this before,” Joel says after a moment, his tone less sharp than before. It’s not quite a question, more of an observation.

You shrug, keeping your hands steady. “Of course I have.”

“Who taught you?”

The question catches you off guard, Joel’s never shown much interest in what your life was before you met him. You glance up briefly, catching his gaze. There’s no malice there, no judgment—just curiosity.

You swallow hard, dragging your eyes back to stitches, half way done now. “My sister.”

You don’t elaborate and Joel doesn’t push.

Maybe it’s the sudden tightness in your tone or the look you know must be clouding your face that keeps him quiet.

You finish off the stitching, tearing the thin strand of thread with your hands before you’re leaning away again.

“Good as new,” you say, dabbing some more alcohol on your own hands to disinfect. “Try not to tear these open anytime soon.”

Joel leans back, strong arms spread across the back of the couch, his face unreadable as he peers down at the fresh stitching on his side. 

“Could’ve done it myself,” he mutters, but the edge in his voice is gone, replaced with something softer, almost resigned. 

You roll your eyes with a scoff, not even trying to hide your irritation as you rise from the floor. “Sure you could’ve, right before you passed out. You’re welcome by the way.”

You gather your supplies and turn to head back to your bag, but Joel’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“You’re always like this, y’know,” he says, and the words carry that same gravelly drawl, but there’s something new there—something heavier.

You pause, your hands tightening around the kit in your grasp. “Like what?”

“Pushy. Stubborn,” he replies, his tone cutting, though it lacks the usual venom. “Like you’ve got somethin’ to prove all the damn time.”

You whip around, your patience officially gone. “You think I’m stubborn?” you shoot back, your voice rising. “Coming from the guy who would rather bleed out on a fucking couch than admit he needs help?”

Joel’s jaw tightens, and his hands flex against the couch cushions, but you don’t stop. Not now. Not after months of this.

“I’ve been busting my ass since day one to prove that I’m not dead weight to you. I’ve fought for us, for you. And for what? Just to get more of your bullshit attitude?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” Joel snaps, pushing himself upright despite the obvious strain it puts on his freshly stitched wound. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me.”

“Because you won’t let me!” you fire back, stepping closer, your voice rising. “All you do is look at me like I’m some burden you can’t wait to get rid of.”

Joel’s glare sharpens, his lips parting as if to respond, but you cut him off.

You really can’t stop yourself now that you started, all the anger and frustration reaching a fever pitch hot enough to burst the tight lid you’ve kept on your emotions.

“If I’m such a hassle, why didn’t you just leave me back there, huh? Why didn’t you just walk away like I know you wanted to?”

Joel’s breathing is heavier now,  his broad chest rising and falling as his dark eyes bore into yours.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, he stands, and the sheer size of him forces you to tilt your chin up slightly to keep your glare fixed on his face.

“You think I wanted this, kid?” he growls, his voice low and strained, like he’s barely holding himself together. “You think I wanted to be responsible for someone else? To have someone else’s fuckin’ life on me?”

“Don’t call me kid,” you spit, shoving a finger into his chest, ignoring the way his jaw ticks at the contact. “I’m not a fucking kid.”

He scoffs, casting his eyes to the ceiling disbelievingly. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Fuck you, Joel,” you growl, fists clenching at your side. “If you hate me that much, why the hell are you still here? Why didn’t you tell me to fuck off the second you met me?”

“Because I couldn’t!” Joel snaps, booming voice filling the small space.

The confession slips out like it pains him. His fists clench at his sides, and for a moment, he looks like he might break something.

You’ve never been scared of Joel, even though you’ve seen first hand just how scary he can be.

Now, as he looms in front of you, eyes blazing and jaw working furiously beneath his skin, it’s the closest to scared you’ve felt.

“I’ve seen you out there,” he continues, tone low and dark. “You’ve got a fuckin’ death wish. You’re too damn stubborn to just stop, and I’m not gonna let you go so you can run off and get yourself fuckin’ killed.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, his words hitting far too close to home.

“I’m just trying to survive, Joel,” you snap, your voice shaking. “That’s what we do, isn’t it? Survive.”

“Survive,” Joel repeats bitterly, his gaze burning into yours. “That what you call it? Throwin’ yourself into every goddamn fight, gettin’ stabbed and shot right fuckin’ in front of me and expecting me to brush that shit off?”

You let out a humorless laugh, nodding your head exasperatedly. “Yes, yes I do expect you to just brush it off, because that’s what you always do.” 

“Well I can’t,” he grates out, taking a step closer. “I can’t ‘cause despite whatever it is that you may think about me, I don’t hate you. I care about you too damn much and that's my goddamn problem.”

That shuts you up, your mouth snapping closed with a sharp click of your teeth as you stare at him, shocked.

Joel holds your gaze, lips pressed into a thin line. “That what you wanted to hear?”

It’s in that moment that the fire finally fizzles out, the dull hiss of it the only sound left in the room.

You’re quiet for a beat, stunned into silence. The heat of his anger, his frustration, it radiates off him, and you realize suddenly that this isn’t just about you. 

It never was.

“Then show me,” you challenge softly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Show me that you don’t hate me.”

Joel’s eyes darken, his head cocking to the side as he searches your face for a sign. You don’t say anything, you only square your shoulders and raise your chin, your eyes just as hard as his own.

“I want you to prove it.”

The tension snaps like a rubber band stretched too far. 

You shouldn’t—this shouldn’t—happen. Not like this. Not after everything that’s been said.

But when Joel’s lips crash against yours, hot and desperate and urgent, it makes everything blur into nothing. 

It’s not gentle, not soft—this is anger and longing and frustration all wrapped into one. It’s messy, frantic, like a fight that’s been brewing for too long.

He grips your arm, pulling you closer, almost too roughly, but it feels like it’s everything you’ve both been avoiding.

His other hand moves to cup the back of your neck, grounding you as his lips press harder against yours, like he’s trying to pour everything he can’t say into this single moment.

You respond just as fiercely, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you kiss him back with all the pent-up emotion that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

The coarse hair of his beard scrapes against the skin of your chin deliciously, the scent of blood and firewood filling your senses as his arm wraps around your waist, dragging you impossibly closer.

Close enough that you can feel the wild beat of his heart booming against your chest.

You pull away for a second, breathless, both of you looking at each other, your eyes wide and pupils blown.

“Goddamn it,” Joel mutters, his voice thick with frustration and something else you can’t place. He presses his forehead to yours, the deep brown of his eyes dark than before. “What the hell are we doing?”

You don’t have an answer. You’re not sure if you even want one.

You reach for him again, arms looping around his neck to drag his mouth back to yours.

This kiss is nothing like the first, it isn’t a clash of frustration–it’s filthier, rawer. A near feral thing, all teeth and tongue, a surge of hunger and need that borders on violence. 

Joel groans into your mouth, a low, guttural sound that sends a shiver racing down your spine. His teeth catch your bottom lip, pulling just hard enough to make you gasp.

He takes advantage of the sound, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to slide against yours with wet, messy desperation, like he’s trying to claim every inch of you.

The taste of him—salt and iron and something distinctly Joel—makes your head spin. 

Your fingers knot into the chocolaty curls at the nape of his neck, surprisingly soft to the touch. His own hands roam the soft curves of your body, rough and insistent, like he can’t decide where he wants to touch you most.

“Joel—” His name spills from your lips like a plea, and he answers with a deep, guttural noise that sends heat pooling low in your belly. His tongue follows the path of his teeth, soothing the bites with lazy, deliberate strokes that make your knees weak.

You’re moving before you even realize it. Joel dragging you across the room and down onto the couch with him, using the strength he’s built up after all these years to manhandle you until your thighs are spread wide on either side of his lap.

“Joel,” you gasp again, rearing back enough to break the kiss. “Your stitches–”

He cuts you off with a sharp nip to the sensitive spot behind your ear, tearing a high whine from your throat. “Can hardly feel ‘em.”

You make a displeased sound, but it’s undermined by the way you tilt your head to give his wandering lips more room. His hands find a home on your hips, one slipping beneath your shirt to press against the soft skin of your stomach. 

His fingers splay wide across your skin, his palm callused and rough. His pinky just barely brushes the underside of your breast, and you’re suddenly rearing back. 

“Wait,” you say, your voice barely a whisper.

Joel’s hands immediately loosen their grip on your hips, his brows knitting together in concern. “You okay?”

You nod quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. “I just...I need to tell you something.”

His jaw tightens slightly, but he stays quiet, waiting for you to speak.

You take a beat, chewing at the skin of your bottom lip nervously.

“I’ve never...” You pause, swallowing hard as your cheeks heat up. “I’ve never done this before. I mean, I’ve never been with anyone like this.”

Joel pulls back slightly, his expression unreadable as he processes your words. For a moment, you think he might pull away completely, but then he exhales a long, slow breath.

“Christ,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re tellin’ me this now?”

“I didn’t exactly plan for this to happen,” you snap back, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “It’s not like I had the luxury of a high school sweetheart to pop my cherry out here.”

Joel’s gaze softens at your tone, and he reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Hey, hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”

You glance away, suddenly feeling self-conscious under the weight of his stare. “I just...I wanted you to know. But I want this, Joel. I want you.”

His thumb stills against your cheek, and he swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing as he considers your words.

“I don’t...” He pauses, the most hesitant you’ve ever heard him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been around you, round eyes shining with something so raw and so earnest it makes your heart ache in your chest. 

“You won’t,” you insist, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach. “I trust you.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, and for a moment, he looks like he’s going to argue. But then he nods, his shoulders relaxing as he cups the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your foreheads touch again.

“At least let me do this right,” he murmurs, his voice so soft you almost don’t hear it. “Not here. Not on some goddamn couch.”

You blink up at him, surprised by the tenderness in his tone. “What?”

“Upstairs,” he says, his thumb tracing lazy circles against the side of your neck. “There’s a bed up there. It ain’t much, but it’s better than this.”

You can’t do anything but nod, your pulse racing beneath your skin fast enough to combat the cold night air seeping through the walls.

“Okay,” you say softly, voice barely above a whisper. “Upstairs.”

Joel stands, gently pulling you to feet and taking your hand in his. He leads you upstairs, each step feeling heavier with anticipation. The small bedroom is dimly lit, the faint glow of moonlight filtering through a broken blind. 

The bed isn’t much—an old mattress on a worn frame, covered with a patched-up blanket—but it doesn’t matter.

Joel shuts the door behind you, the sound of the latch clicking into place sending a shiver down your spine.

“Last chance,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “You say the word, and we stop. No questions asked.”

Your throat tightens at the sincerity in his tone, the way he’s giving you an out even though you can see the strain in every line of his body, the way his hands flex at his sides like he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you.

But you don’t hesitate.

You step closer, placing your hands on his bare chest. You bite back a smile at the goosebumps that break out all along his skin at your touch. 

“Jesus, Miller,” you mumble teasingly, nails lightly scratching through the salt and pepper hair scattered along his chest. “How long are you gonna drag this out before you get it through your thick skull that I want to fuck you?”

"Christ." Joel huffs, shaking his head as the corners of his lips turn up in a small grin. “Like I fuckin’ said,” he starts, big hands kneading the meat of your hips. “Pushy.”

Joel walks you backward until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you fall onto it with a soft gasp.

He follows you immediately, crawling over you, his body covering yours, his weight a comforting pressure. “I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours. “I’ll make it good for you, I swear.”

His fingers are everywhere, unbuttoning your shirt with a practiced ease that has your pulse racing. His lips follow the path of his hands, each touch a branding mark, each kiss leaving you wanting more.

“Pretty girl,” he mutters softly, pressing a kiss right between the valley of your breasts.

You feel his cock stirring against your stomach, and it makes the ache between your legs flare to life, the weight of it, the hardness of it, driving you crazy with need. 

You want him so badly you can barely think straight, but when his lips graze over your collarbone, you can’t stop the quiet whine that escapes your throat.

Joel growls in response, a sound that resonates deep in his chest, and you know then that he’s as far gone as you are. His hands slide down to the waistband of your pants, tugging them down your legs with urgency. 

As your skin is exposed to the cool air, you can feel the heat of his gaze on you, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

“You’re fuckin' perfect,” he mutters, his voice thick with desire.

Joel's hands find your thighs, parting them with a deliberate slowness that makes your breath catch in your throat. He positions himself between your legs, his body weight pressing you into the mattress, his chest rising and falling with the same frantic rhythm as yours. 

The anticipation is almost unbearable as his fingers trace the line of your panties, the fabric damp with want.

“Jesus, she’s drippin’ for me already,” he mutters, voice rough, as he slides the material to the side, his thumb brushing over the sensitive swell of your clit.

Your body jerks at the contact, a desperate sound escaping your lips, but Joel doesn’t relent.

“You touch yourself down here, baby?” he asks, working tortuously slow circles over your clit.

"Please," you beg, your hands grasping at the sheets, pulling at them as if they can anchor you to the moment.

He looks up at you, his gaze dark and filled with an intensity that makes your stomach tighten. “Asked you a question, honey.”

You whine, high and loud in your throat as your thighs clench desperately around his wrist. “Yes, I touch myself.”

Joel’s lips curl into a satisfied grin, sliding his thick index finger through the messy wetness to slip inside your clenching hole, making you gasp. Your hands grasp at the sheets, pulling at them as if they can anchor you to the moment.

“Good girl,” he breathes, eyes darkening at the broken moan that bursts from your lips. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

Your brain feels hazy as you search for the answer, pleasure clouding your mind slow and sweet as molasses. “A–a few nights ago.”

Joel hums idly, slipping a second finger alongside the first. The stretch has you whining, his fingers a lot more to take than your own.

Your hands come up to claw at his shoulders, relishing in the way his broad muscle ripples and shifts beneath your greedy palms.

“Joel,” you whine, hips canting down against his hand impatiently.

He just shushes you softly, free hand brushing soothing circles along the skin of your inner thigh. “I know, honey,” he mutters, the pace fingers speeding up. “But I gotta get her nice and ready if you wanna take my cock.”

The gush of your pussy around his fingers is loud in the stillness of the room, a filthy wet noise that burns your ears each time he plunges them into your aching hole.

“I am ready.” Your breath hitches as your body begins to tremble beneath him. “Please, Joel—fuck—please, I need—”

“Need what?” His voice is thick with dark amusement, but there's a hunger in his eyes that has your stomach twisting. “Tell me, baby. What do you need?”

“I need you,” you rasp, your nails digging little crescent moons into his skin, your body pleading for release. “I need you inside me.”

Your hands grab at his hair, pulling him back up to meet your lips in a feverish kiss. 

The pressure of his body on yours, the way his hard cock grinds against your trembling thigh, drives you to the brink of madness. 

Your hands trail down his chest, past the waistband of his jeans, finally reaching the bulge straining against the fabric.

Joel groans when you rub him through his pants, feeling his cock twitch in response. He pulls back, breathing heavily, his lips curling into a smirk. 

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice thick with lust. “You want my cock in this pretty pussy? Want me to show you how good it feels to be fucked?”

“God, yes,” you answer, desperation lacing your tone as your hand moves to unbuckle his jeans. “Want it so bad.”

He lets you push his pants down just enough to free his cock, and you gasp, your eyes drawn to the way his length stands, thick and hard, just waiting for you. The tip flushed an angry red, drooling pre-come onto the scratchy sheets.

Joel pulls his fingers from you, using his hands spreading your legs wider, positioning himself between them with such careful precision that you can barely stand it.

The head of his cock drags through the mess between your legs, slipping all the way down till it catches on your soaked entrance.

Joel pauses, looking down at you, waiting for your signal, but the only answer you give is a pleading whimper, your hands pulling at his shoulders, urging him to move.

His mouth captures yours once again as he slowly slides into you, the stretch of his cock filling you steadily, making you gasp into his mouth. 

The slow burn of him carving a place for himself inside of you is almost too much, your body trembling as you adjust to the feeling of him.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel mutters against your lips. “You’re so tight, so fuckin’ perfect for me.”

As he sinks deeper into you, his thick cock finally buried to the hilt inside of you, the feeling is overwhelming. You gasp, nails digging into his back as the pain slowly shifts into pleasure.

Joel groans into your mouth, his hands moving to your hips, guiding you as he rocks gently against you. 

The rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, as if he's savoring every inch of you. Your body quivers beneath him, every inch of your skin tingling with sensation. You clutch at him, your legs tightening around his waist, needing more, wanting more.

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Take it, baby."

You screw your eyes shut tightly, trying to steady yourself as he thrusts deeper, harder. The angle shifts just enough to make your breath catch in your throat. 

Every stroke feels like it’s hitting the deepest part of you, sparking heat in places you never knew could burn so hot.

"Fuck," you gasp, the sensation too overwhelming, too much in the best way. "Joel... please..."

"Please what, sweetheart?" He pulls back slightly, teasing you with a slow roll of his hips before driving back in with a grunt.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, urging him to move faster, harder. "Don’t stop," you breathe, your voice trembling. "I need you to fuck me, Joel. Faster. Harder. Please."

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as Joel finally picks up the pace, each thrust harder and deeper than the last.

Your back arches off the bed, chest pressing flush to his as your body coils tighter and tighter, already so close to the edge.

Joel reaches up to take your wrist in his, dragging your hand down to press flat against your lower stomach.

“Feel that?” he asks breathlessly, the speed of his hips knocking the dingy bed frame into the wall with every thrust. “You feel how deep I am?”

His own hand blankets yours, pushing down so you can feel the way his cock punches up against your palm on the next thrust.

Your pussy clenches desperately around him at the feeling, your slick lips dropping open on a loud moan.

You can barely hold on. The heat in your stomach tightens, coiling painfully as your free hand scrambles to find purchase on his skin. "I can't—I'm gonna—"

He grits his teeth, his jaw clenched as he drives deeper, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Come for me, baby," he growls, his voice dark and commanding. "Let me feel it."

With a strangled cry, you finally release, your body clenching around him, every nerve igniting in a white-hot explosion of pleasure. 

You’re lost in it, your world spinning, your senses overwhelmed by the sensation of Joel’s body pounding into yours, the way his cock brushes against that sweet spot behind your clit enough to make sparks go off behind your eyelids.

Joel pulls out of your velvety warmth, hand coming up to fist his dripping length until he’s bowing over you tightly and coming with a deep groan of your name.

His release paints your stomach with milky strands of white, rope after rope of warm come claiming you in a way no one has before.

He finally collapses against you with one last shuddering breath, both of you breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling together in the quiet aftermath.

For a few moments, neither of you speaks, the only sounds are the soft creak of the bed and the quiet hum of your racing hearts. 

Joel rests his head against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, and you can feel the tension begin to slip away, the weight of everything that’s happened between you both settling into something new—something different, but still there.

Your hand slips down the sweaty expanse of your stomach, your fingers swiping through the sticky mess of his release curiously.

“Christ, quit that,” Joel groans, tearing his eyes away from the sight to press his forehead against your shoulder.

“Why?” you hum, brow raised in amusement as you drop your hand back to the mattress. “Can you even get it up again?”

Joel pinches your side hard enough to make you squeal, your body flinching away from him as a surprised laugh bubbles from your chest.

“Watch it,” he warns, though there’s no bite to his tone. You only laugh in response.

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, wrapped in each other as crickets chirp from outside the window.

Then Joel clears his throat, fingers idly tracing different shapes on the skin of your hip as he gathers the courage to speak.

A circle, a square, a diamond, a circle, a heart, a heart, a heart.

“I’m…” he starts, trailing off softly. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a real fuckin’ prick, and you didn’t deserve it. You never did.”

You turn your own gaze to his chest, hand coming up so you can trail your fingers along the jagged scar decorating his shoulder. Your touch featherlight over the rough patch of skin.

All the anger seeps from your body, a heavy weight gone until you feel so light you could float off the mattress and into the cold night air.

“It’s okay,” you whisper softly, so soft you think it gets lost in the quiet darkness of the room. “I understand now.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you both just lay there, tangled in each other, not worrying about the world outside, about the chaos that waits. 

Just you, him, and the soft glow of moonlight.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini nat's note: should i add joel to my taglist...i do kinda want to write more for him in the future but i'm not sure yet...lmk chickens <3 bee tee dubs sorry the ending absolutely sucks i could not for the life of me figure out how to end this LMAO

[lustspren]

Enchanted

Male reader x Loossemble's Gowon (playing Ashley).

tags: harvard student gowon, public sex, bathroom sex, blowjob, facial, pussy eating.

word count: 8.2k

━•✦•━•✦•━

━•✦•━•✦•━

Settling in a new state was a pain, especially if you were a college student who had just entered Harvard, no less. But that bar on the outskirts of campus had become your little refuge every weekend after doing your homework.

Not knowing anyone and not having any friends yet had led you to inevitably look for some entertainment on your own. That's how you found that gem: a wide three-story building—one of them underground—made of red brick and adorned with narrow colonial-style windows with pale wooden frames.

From the first moment you walked in there you were enthralled by the faint aroma of old wood and the freshly made coffee. There were spaces for all kinds of activities, mainly bars of course. But there were also tables to eat at, pool tables, dart boards, and even reading spaces with bookshelves where students like you could go to simply relax while doing their stuff.

Despite all these mini-ecosystems designed so that everyone could choose their preferred environment, all the activity was concentrated in the main bar on the second floor, where you spent most of your time and where you were at that very moment, on a cold Saturday at 8 pm.

The night was particularly quiet, lacking the usual crowds that there were at that time. It was probably due to the weather; you understood that many preferred to be in their rooms, warm under their blankets and enjoying their free time in a calm way. But you weren't doing too bad there, sitting on one of the stools in front of the semi-circular bar while drinking a beer and watching a Celtics game, well wrapped up in your windbreaker and winter hat.

There were few people around you, some watching the game as well and others just chatting among themselves at tables in the corners. The floor below, however, was and sounded busier since a birthday was being celebrated, and the drinks were slowly making the chatter blossom. You wouldn't have liked to be there at that moment; mass social events made you anxious, even more so when you had no one to talk to.

In any case, both places were better than being out there in the snow. Your gaze occasionally strayed to the window to look at it. The flakes floated slowly in the air, falling unhurriedly on the roofs and branches of the trees. It was late November, and the snowfall had only just begun, so there was still a while until Massachusetts looked like the North Pole itself. For now, however, it was nice.

But it wasn't all Christmas fantasy and candy and happiness. Unfortunately, final exam season was approaching since the end of the semester was in mid-December, and that meant doubling the effort and stress in equal measure. You were taking it easy, since you had practically every subject under control except for Molecular Genetics, but of course you wouldn't get too confident. In fact, you were enjoying that moment of relaxation since you would have to spend the whole next day studying without a break.

You had to admit that everything would have been easier if you belonged to one of the common study groups that were formed for these situations, but being a new student, you sadly had to settle for what little you had. That is, yourself. At least for now. Because you wished with all your heart that the situation would change soon.

Who was going to say that it would. Maybe not in the way you expected.

"Nah but I swear to god bruh, JT is kinda dumb sometimes," said the bartender, Jordan, while cleaning a glass. He was one of the ones watching the game with you.

"I mean, at least he tries," you said. "But in this game he needs to stop taking the shots."

"Oh god bro, they put me in the game and I'm making more threes than him."

While you, Jordan and two other guys were commenting on the game, another person sat down in the empty chair to your right. You didn't pay attention, as just like you, the person also started watching the game until the end of that quarter.

"Damn sorry Ash, I didn't see you, hi," Jordan said to the person who had sat next to you. "What are you doing here today?"

You turned to see this Ash person, not knowing that you were going to be completely dazzled by what your eyes were going to see. She was an Asian girl, with beautiful dark brown hair, pretty full cheeks and small bright eyes. You searched through your memories to see if you had seen her before, but it was unlikely that you had seen a girl that pretty and not remember her face. But she was really fucking adorable, wearing a blue jacket that looked like it was going to eat her up because of how petite she was.

"Hi Jordan," the girl replied, her lips slightly curved into a smile. "I was at the birthday party down there but well, I got overstimulated and my social battery got drained."

You didn't want to seem like a weirdo, so before she noticed, you looked away from her and acted nonchalant as you watched the commercials.

"Oh I can understand why," Jordan said, leaning his fists on the bar. "Those motherfuckers are loud as fuck. Same as always?"

"Nah, pour me something mild this time, I have to study tomorrow and I don't want a headache," Ash replied.

Jordan let out a laugh and stepped away from the bar.

"Him too," he pointed his index finger at you before turning his back to you. "And he's on his fourth beer."

You were flabbergasted. He definitely hadn't done that shit. You were forced to look at the girl and him with an embarrassed chuckle, shrugging.

“Oh, you’re a Harvard student too?” Ash asked, turning to look at you. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I am,” you nodded. “And I haven’t seen you either. What faculty are you in?"

"Data Science, and you?"

"Biomedicine," you replied.

"Cool!" She raised her eyebrows, and turned her body towards you to give you her full attention. "So how's that going?"

You sighed and took a sip of your beer, which was almost empty.

"I'm a new student," you set the glass down on the bar. "So I'll know after this semester."

"Oh, new student huh?" she raised an eyebrow. "I guess that's been the hardest thing so far."

Jordan then came back to you and gave her a glass as well, from the color and bubbles you guessed it was vodka and lemon soda. You hoped it was more one thing than the other, because if not, there was absolutely nothing mild about that drink.

"Don't even remind me," you said with a sigh, as she drank from her glass. "It's been a shitty three months."

"Why?" she cocked her head. "I mean, I really don't mean to be nosy, but Harvard always does a good job of integrating new students with the others."

"Yeah, but that doesn't guarantee that people will like you," you then locked eyes with Jordan, who you motioned for another beer.

"But you don't seem like a bad guy, why wouldn't people like you?"

You shrugged, taking the freshly opened bottle of beer that Jordan had given you.

"I don't know, I think it's because I look at everyone like I want to kick their butts."

She giggled, and it was so adorable that you couldn't help but smile too.

"And you want to do that?" she asked.

"Sometimes," you brought the beer close to your mouth. "With some pampered jerks." You drank.

"Ah yeah, there are plenty of those here. I'm Ashley, by the way," she extended her hand towards you.

"I'm Mason," you accepted her hand and shook it with a small smile. "And you're one of the few people I've told my name to."

The last quarter of the game had already started, but it was impossible for you to pay attention to it, because you and Ashley were engaged in a conversation that flowed like the flow of a river downhill.

She told you interesting things about her life, like for example that she no longer lived on campus and had her own apartment not far from the bar. She also told you that she lived for a few years in South Korea with her mother, and that she had returned to the United States exclusively to study her degree. You didn't have too many things in common, contrary to what usually happens in romantic movies, but you could tell that chemistry arose between the two of you. She listened to you happily while you talked about your interests and hobbies, and you listened to her too. You laughed, and a lot, which seemed unreal to you since you had counted the times you had laughed with someone since you arrived at that place.

And damn, she was so, so pretty when she laughed that it made your inner self giggle and kick. Everything about her was adorable: her voice, the way she expressed herself, her smile, her hair, and even something as silly as the way she arched her eyebrows when you told her something slightly crazy.

Calling it love at first sight was downright stupid, because you were sure that to her you were just a friendly guy to have a nice chat with, but you were smitten. It was perhaps hasty to feel that way, but you couldn't just ignore that she, apart from being beautiful, was the first person your age that you had talked to for more than half an hour without feeling like you were bothering her.

And considering your situation, well, that was quite a lot.

"I swear to god!" you said, telling her about a time you had to chase your dog for almost two streets. "If it wasn't for..."

"Ashley?" a female voice said, coming from the stairs.

You and Ashley turned around. At the bottom of the stairs were two girls, both tipsy looking. One of them walked towards you.

"We thought you had gone home!" she said, standing next to you. "You coming? We're gonna continue the party at Riley's. place"

"Oh, sure," Ashley looked at you for a moment and then back at her. "Can you wait for me downstairs? I want to say goodbye to Mason."

"Who the fuck is Mason?"

You just held up your hand with an awkward smile.

"My pleasure," you said.

"Oh, my pleasure too," she nodded and then looked at Ashley. "Hurry up then, we're about to leave!"

"Yeah yeah go Vivian," Ashley dismissed her with a carefree wave of her hand.

Vivian turned around and walked with the other girl back down to the first floor. Ashley then looked at you.

"Sorry about that, I would have loved to hear more of that story," she said with a giggle.

"Don't worry," you shook your head and looked at your watch. "I'm actually running late too, I don't want to sleep that late."

"Oh, come on then?" she asked, standing up while pointing to the stairs. "We can give you a ride to campus if you want."

"Nah no need," you said with a chuckle. "I'll finish this beer and walk, but thanks."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah yeah," you nodded. "Worse distances I've walked."

"Alright!" she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets as she took steps backwards. "It was nice meeting you, Mason, really."

"Same here. Will you be back here next weekend?"

"Mmm maybe, maybe not," she shrugged. "I don't know, it all depends on my schedule."

"I understand," you nodded. "Well, I'm here every Saturday after 6."

"Good to know," she nodded with a smile. "See you later!"

She turned to walk back down the stairs, but you couldn't just let her leave like that. Who knew when you'd see her again?

"Hey, Ashley!" you called out to her, and she stopped with one foot on the first step.

"Huh?"

"Uhm... I don't mean to be intrusive, but can I have your number?"

Ashley chuckled, and you thought you'd made a fool of yourself and she'd leave, but instead she walked back up and walked towards you.

"I don't give my number to just anyone," she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. "But we can follow each other on Instagram."

Well, a start was a start.

"Yeah I'm cool with that!"

Ashley showed you her Instagram, and you quickly went to yours to follow her. She then followed you back.

"There ya go!" she put her phone back away, and walked backwards towards the stairs. "Well, now I really have to go, my friends are going to kill me."

"Absolutely. Take care, okay?"

"You too!" Ashley said, then turned around and walked down the stairs.

"Uhm... I don't want to be intrusive, but can I have your number?" you heard Jordan scoff behind you, followed by a laugh. "Oh my god."

You sighed and turned back to the bar.

"Shut up bro," you said, and took a long drink of your beer.

After finishing that beer you finally asked for the bill and paid before leaving. The snowfall had gotten worse outside, so you spent the whole way back to campus with your head down and your hands in the pockets of your windbreaker, but most of all, thinking about her.

You couldn't help but feel like a complete idiot. She was a girl you had just met and she already had butterflies in your stomach. But how could she not? Every time you remembered her smiling it was like seeing a cute picture of Kirby, she even sounded like him when she laughed. She was unpleasantly cute.

When you got to your dorm the first thing you did was sit down and check her Instagram. She didn't have too many posts, but the few she had were 15 photos or more. Without realizing it, you spent about ten minutes absolutely mesmerized by her beauty, but because of that you missed a damn like on an old post that you quickly deleted.

You dropped the phone and brought your hands to your mouth, staring into absolute nothingness, thinking of the possible repercussions that would have, the worst being that you were going to look like a fucking stalker. God, you were a complete idiot.

You had no choice but to try to forget about it. Pretend it hadn't happened. Instead of thinking about it, you focused on attending to the needs of your stomach, which had been growling for a couple of hours, and after that, you took a shower and went straight to bed.

Despite being constantly aware of your surroundings, you didn't see Ashley during that entire exam week. It was kind of odd: your schedules would really have to be too different for you to never see her, even from a distance, and yet, at least once at some random hour you had to see her; Harvard wasn't that big.

She did upload the occasional story to her Instagram from time to time, many of them being things from her daily life and rather few of herself, whether in mirrors or selfies with her friends. There was one day when she even uploaded a story drinking a cocktail. Who knows where. Questionable, but certainly not your problem.

However, you didn't have time to be focused on what she did or didn't do. The week had been hard as hell, as had the exams you were prepared for but still felt like constantly walking a tightrope over an abyss. You were sure you had done well in each one, but there were several study sessions that had you with a severe headache that didn't go away until it was all over.

It was an exhausting week, and emotionally one to forget. But on Friday night something happened that you didn't expect, something that had you doing backflips and running up and down the walls of your bedroom. A like from Ashley on one of your old posts.

There were a couple of ways to interpret it. It could have just been a mistake, like yours had a few days ago. But that was ruled out when you realized that she hadn't unliked your post. The other way to interpret it was that she was making fun of you and wanted to let you know that she realized what you had done.

And of course, the last way to interpret it was that... Nah, that wasn't possible. Or was it? How the hell was the human version of Kirby going to be interested in you? That was impossible. You had only talked to her once, and you didn't remember being Prince Charming exactly. You had just been you, and that wasn't enough to make a girl like you after just an hour of conversation.

Or maybe it was? Thinking about it had you stressed out. You wanted to DM her, but doing so right now would make you look like a desperate weirdo. Maybe you lacked balls, but you wanted to do everything you could to not really scare this girl away, so you were going to take things slow and not make any risky moves.

Right now all you wanted was for Saturday to come. She had been clear with you, and you knew she could just not show up at the bar tomorrow. But you were still excited about the possibility that she would. You wished she would. And you had to think back to see if you had ever been this excited to see a girl in the past few years.

When the day came you went to the bar without any expectations in order not to be disappointed if something happened. When you got upstairs Jordan greeted you with his usual cheer, and you started your evening with the usual cold beer before the start of another Celtics game.

"Ayo bro what's wrong with you?" Jordan asked an hour later, frowning. "You're acting weird as fuck."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You've been looking back like you're going to shoot the fuck out of this bitch and moving your leg this whole time. Look, you're doing it right now!" he pointed down.

You looked where he was pointing, and sure enough, you were moving your leg without realizing it. You also noticed that every so often you looked over your shoulder.

"First of all, I'm not going to shoot anything," you said, forcing yourself to stop your leg. "And... fuck, it's because of her."

"Her?" he raised both eyebrows. "Her who?"

"Fuck you mean her who?" You frowned.

“Ohhh! Ash?” he said, and let out a giggle.

“Aha.”

Jordan laughed and handed a ready-made drink to one of the customers near you.

“Right right,” he nodded. “Can I have your number?” he mimicked you in a silly voice. “Look, talking about Helen of Troy.”

You were two milliseconds away from turning around like the girl from the Exorcist, but you had enough self-control to turn your head like a normal person.

Ashley had just walked up the stairs, and she looked just as pretty as the last time you saw her, with her hair down, a white college sweater, and a grey scarf that still had traces of snow on it.

And as soon as she saw you, her face lit up with a smile, causing the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy.

“Uhhh you got her in your pocket bro, look at that smile!” Jordan said from behind you, close to your ear so Ashley couldn't hear. "Aight so hear me out, I'll give you a hand, you'll see."

You frowned.

"Wait what?" You turned to look at him, but he had already played dumb and gone on to serve another customer.

Ashley came to your side at that moment, taking the free seat to your right, just like last time.

"Hi Mason! Hi Jordan!" she greeted you both, but focused her attention on you.

"Sup," you greeted back, turning to her. "I'm glad you came."

"Yeah well, I finished all my homework early and also studied enough to be free today."

"Oh really? Free to see someone, maybe?" you raised your eyebrows and took a sip of your beer.

"Mmm, I don't know," she shrugged, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I was really in the mood for a drink on a Saturday."

You chuckled and nodded.

"Aight, you want a beer then? It's on me, and I insist."

"Yeah I'm cool with that!" she nodded.

"On my way!" Jordan said.

"Thanks bro," you said, then looked at Ashley. "So? How was torture week for you?"

The smile on Ashley's face faded, and her eyes wandered to an empty glass on the bar.

"I mean..." she cocked her head and made an awkward face. "Well, I think? I don't have too many hopes for myself, but I don't feel like I did a bad job either," she looked at you. "What about you?"

"Exhausting," you sighed. "But I feel like I'll pass everything with flying colors. Do you feel like you didn't study hard enough or what?"

"Something like that. Let's just say I got a little too confident."

Jordan came over with your beers and placed them in front of each of you. You both smiled at him in thanks.

"Why do I feel like that cocktail drinking story has something to do with it?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.

Ashley was about to drink from her beer when she burst out laughing, having to set the glass down on the table so she wouldn't spill it. You looked at her with a smile, gobsmacked by her cuteness.

“Hey!” she snapped between laughs. “That was just an hour!”

“But it was enough to distract you,” you said before sipping on your beer.

“Nah, I’m good at dividing up my schedule.”

“6 hours of drinking and another two for studying?”

She laughed again, and this time she gave you a small, friendly punch on the shoulder.

“No, silly. You’re really into my stories huh?”

“I spend a lot of time on Instagram, so I end up checking them all the time and accidentally,” you shrugged.

“Accidentally, I see,” she nodded slowly. “Same as that like, right?”

Your hand froze around the glass of beer, where you looked with a smile of being on the ropes.

“Yup, same as that like,” you looked into her eyes. "And yours? Was that accidental too or what?"

She gently shook her head, holding your gaze.

"Nope, that was completely on purpose."

A smile escaped you. Things were flowing smooth as butter. It was up to you not to screw up.

"So you did come here today to see someone huh?"

"Maybe," she brought a hand to a lock of her hair to play with it. "And you seemed to be waiting for someone today."

"You," you said, not really thinking about it beforehand, just a shot in the air.

"Oh really?" she raised both eyebrows, now curling her lock of hair. "But you always come here, not this day at this time?"

"Yeah, but the difference is that now I've been waiting all week for Saturday to come."

Ashley giggled and looked away, now playing with her fingers in her lap.

"To see me?" she asked, and looked at you again.

"To see you," you nodded.

"What if I didn't come?"

"Eventually you would," you shrugged. "Pure statistics. But the odds increase if you wanted to see me too."

Ashley was quiet for a moment, just like you had been when she brought up the subject of you liking her post, a half smile on her face and her gaze on her glass. She then shrugged.

"You got me, I guess," she said.

"It wasn't that hard either. Hey, do you want to get something to eat?" you asked, changing the subject.

"Like what?" she said, and took a long drink of her beer.

"I don't know, they make some pretty tasty stuff downstairs. Maybe something sweet?"

"Mmm, nutella waffles?"

"Oh hell yeah, and they make some amazing cookie sandwiches too."

“That’s a yes then!”

“You wanna go sit over there?” you nodded behind her, towards one of the tables in the corner.

“Sure, let’s go,” Ashley replied with a smile as you both stood up from the bar. 

As you passed, you glanced at Jordan, who was watching you with a mix of expectation and complicity. In response, he winked at you and discreetly dimmed the lights in the bar. The atmosphere changed instantly: the shadows lengthened, the warm lighting accentuated the textures of the brick walls and created an intimate space at the table you chose.

You owed that guy one.

The table in question was a cozy booth, with a brown leather corner sofa and high backs set against the brick wall. Ashley slid into the seat and sat right in the corner.

“I’ll go place the orders, wait here, will you?” you said, setting your glass of beer down next to hers.

Ashley just nodded with a cute smirk on her face, and then you hurried downstairs. You placed the order as quickly as you could, with a couple of milkshakes on top of the waffles and sandwiches, and then returned to her, sitting down to the side.

"I hope you like the lemon pie milkshakes, they're delicious," you said, arranging the plates and glasses on the table.

"I love lemon pie," she said, picking up one of the milkshakes to drink from the straw. "Did the stalking pay off or what?"

A laugh escaped you.

"Sweetheart, as much as I tried, I haven't been following you long enough to know that."

"Oh, you're calling me sweetheart now?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Uh... I'm sorry, does it bother you?"

Ashley then moved closer to you. It was really something very subtle, but you noticed it by the closeness of your thighs.

"It's cute, why would it bother me?" she said, holding your gaze.

You were closer than you'd ever been at that moment. It could happen, and you had a feeling she wanted it, but after looking at her lips a few times you decided not to push your luck too much.

"I don't know," you shrugged. "Some people find it uncomfortable, and I wouldn't want to make you feel that way."

She stayed quiet as she looked at you. You frowned in confusion.

"What?" you said.

"You're really cute, Mason," Ashley replied, in a lower tone. "I don't know if anyone's ever told you that."

The way you folded yourself into seven separate pieces was a bit hard to hide, but you were sure it had to have shown on your cheeks as they felt warm from the blush.

“I-I… ah…” you felt like an idiot getting stuck on your own words; your brain had short-circuited for a few seconds. “No. At least not here.”

Ashley placed a hand on your thigh, near your knee. A statue could be more alive than you at that moment.

“That’s a shame, because you really are.”

You once again tried to say something, but only a silly stutter came out of your mouth that ended in silence. It was your chance.

“Shall we eat?” she said, before you could lunge in and kiss her. She didn’t notice your intentions, so she didn’t have to have done it on purpose. Still, it was pretty inopportune.

“Ah… yeah,” you nodded, turning back to the plates and milkshakes. "Sure, sure."

There was silence between you as you began to eat, but not an awkward silence, rather a peaceful one, which made it clear that both you and she were comfortable with each other. Only after a couple of minutes passed did you resume the conversation, which this time was oriented towards anecdotes and interesting facts about your lives. Needless to say, you felt like you could talk to her about anything and she would be just as happy to listen to you, as you would to her.

But you needed to kiss her. You really, really needed to.

"Gosh those waffles are really crazy stuff," Ashley said with the milkshake in her hand, once you had finished eating.

"What about the cookie sandwiches?" you asked with a smile.

"I wasn't that big of a fan, but they were good too," she shrugged.

You chuckled.

"Fair enough, we can't all have excellent tastes."

Ashley laughed and nudged you slightly. You stared at her. Noticing this, she tilted her head and frowned.

"What?" she asked.

"You're so fucking cute, Ashley," you said, admiring every detail of her pretty face, dimly illuminated by the warm light of the bar's spherical lamps. "You really are."

That took her by surprise. She blinked several times, visibly stunned by such a sudden statement, but as she processed the information, her lips curved into a small smirk.

"You think so?" she asked in a low tone, and brought her hand back to your thigh, now closer to your crotch, awakening in you thoughts that were no longer so innocent.

"Yeah, I think so," you said, and put your right arm in front of her abdomen to grab her waist. You couldn't tell from the baggy clothes the weather forced you two to wear, but she had a small waist and a tummy that you found extremely sexy.

"So what are you waiting for?" She squeezed your thigh with her fingers.

"Waiting for what?" You pressed her closer, your faces now inches apart.

Ashley leaned in close to your ear.

"To take me downstairs to the bathroom and fuck me," she whispered, and pulled back to look you in the eyes again. "And kiss me, of course."

W-h-a-t?

You blinked a few times, confused by what you had just heard. Was she the same Ashley? Had you gotten distracted and she had switched with her evil twin? It wasn't like it bothered you, but it was such a drastic change that it seemed unreal.

"Wow," you said with a chuckle, and brought the hand on her waist up to her thigh to brush the side of your finger against her crotch. "In that order?"

Ashley moved her hand up and placed it on your bulge to give it a single, firm squeeze.

"As you prefer," she said, biting her lip as she looked down at yours.

And then you kissed her.

From the beginning, it was difficult for you to control yourself from making a scene in front of everyone's eyes, because her lips had a delicious pineapple flavor that drove you crazy and made you want to devour her like a maniac. For the moment, you had to settle for that slow, discreet kiss, like the one any couple shared at a bar.

Ashley was forced to remove her hand from your bulge, and you were forced to remove yours from near her crotch. Instead she left her hands still in her own lap and you just continued to squeeze her thigh with your hand. As the seconds passed your breathing became heavier, and by the way she shifted in her seat you knew that it was enough of kissing and it was time to move on to the fun part.

"To the bathroom downstairs then?" you asked against her lips.

"The one on the basement floor," she clarified. "There won't be anyone down there at this hour."

"Do you scream a lot or what?" you teased.

"Take me there and find out."

You smiled and took her hand before standing up. You both walked out of the stall and straight to the first floor, where Ashley stepped away from you.

"Let me go first," she said, steps away from the exit. "I wouldn't want us to be so brazen either."

"Aight go," you nodded.

Ashley walked out of the bar and headed down to the basement. You waited for about five minutes before heading in that same direction, leaving the bar to go left and down the stairs that led to the basement. Just like Ashley said, there were like four people down there counting the bartender, so it wouldn't be a problem.

Absolutely no one paid you any attention as you walked through the room. Good for you, because you were able to enter the ladies' room without any opposition. Inside it wasn't hard for you to guess where Ashley was: she was in the back stall, with her hand sticking out of the half-open door.

Rushing in there you found her waiting patiently for you, leaning against the wall with her other hand behind her back.

"You're late," Ashley joked with a mischievous smirk as you locked the bathroom door.

"I'll go if you want," you pointed with your thumb.

"Nuh-uh, come here," she said, and grabbed your face with both hands before crashing her lips against yours.

With no potential stares now, you two were free to let loose, your tongues now entering the equation just seconds into the kiss, which was becoming more and more wild and sloppy. Ashley lowered one hand to the side of your neck, and brought the other to your cock to squeeze and massage it over your pants. You, for your part, were met with a pair of firm, round buttocks as you lowered your hands and squeezed them. She let out a small moan against your lips, and brought her other hand down to unbutton your pants, unzipping them, and reaching into your boxers to cup your cock with her delicate fingers and slowly stroke it.

"You must be freezing from the weather," she murmured after moving a few inches away from your lips. "Maybe I can give you some warmth."

With that Ashley dropped to her knees in front of you and pulled your pants and boxers down to your ankles. With your cock released in front of her face, she placed wet kisses on the underside, moved down to your balls to lick them, and then back to your tip to catch it between her lips and suck on it.

"Fuck Ashley..." you gasped, bringing a hand to her silky brown hair to push it out of her face.

She gave your tip a couple of sucks and pulled you out to slowly jerk you off.

"Still cold?" Ashley asked. "Don't worry, I got you."

With that she placed her hands on your thighs and opened her mouth to take your cock inside her. Now her lips went further, slowly going millimeters past the middle of your shaft to come back up and start sucking you off. She made eye contact with you, which made your cheeks feel hot since until a few hours ago you only saw her as a giggly adorable princess, and now that cute princess was giving you a sloppy, sensual blowjob.

"Fuck that's perfect Ash," you moaned, watching as she pumped her head at a steady pace, slurping up the saliva she left behind and also using her tongue to lick the underside of your shaft.

"Warm enough?" Ashley asked after pulling you out, now kissing the sides of your cock while rubbing her fingers along the first few inches of it. "I still have a little magic trick."

She put her hands on your thighs and took your cock back into her mouth. This time, after a few sucks halfway down your shaft, her mouth went further and further until it reached your base, where her nose rested for a few long, fascinating seconds as your tip brushed the walls of her throat.

And yes, it was fucking warm. Overwhelmingly so, you dare say.

“Shit…” you moaned, letting your head fall back and bringing your hand to the back of Ashley’s neck.

A couple seconds later she released your cock with a couple of coughs and heavy gasps, and continued to jerk you off while wiping her spit-stained chin.

“Better?” she asked.

“Ashley… what the fuck was that,” you managed to say, now looking into her eyes. “The last thing I would think when I saw your face is that you give amazing blowjobs.”

“And I have a pretty tight pussy too, just so you know.”

You were officially going crazy.

“May I taste it?” you asked.

Ashley smiled and stood up, turned around and bent over with her hands braced against the wall of the stall. She then looked over her shoulder at you and looked down at your cock rubbing against her ass. You immediately got on your knees behind her, grabbed the hem of her sweatpants and pulled them down.

“Oh fuck,” was the only thing you could think to say. Her ass was a complete beauty: it was small, but the shape of her buttocks and how soft her skin looked made it look like a whole snack.

“You like it?” she asked, slowly swinging it from side to side.

"I have a way to answer that," you said, and placed both hands on either side of her hip before you began kissing every spot on her pretty ass, not stopping until both pale cheeks were covered in your saliva and your teeth marked on the fleshiest areas.

With your entrance already covered you wanted to move on to the main course as quickly as possible, so you grabbed her light blue panties—already with a wet spot in the middle—and pulled them down to her ankles along with her sweatpants, rolled around her feet. Her pussy was as pretty as her face, shaved, smooth, pink and shiny from how wet it was. You plunged your mouth in there without a second's thought.

"Mmmgh," Ashley moaned, pushing her hips back to bury your face between her ass cheeks, which you parted so you could easily taste her delicious, silky folds with your tongue.

The bathroom stall was soon filled with cute, low moans. You ate her pussy slowly at first, not wanting to look like a desperate fucking lunatic. But it was clear that wasn't going to last too long, not when her wet flesh was this delicious and her hips moved in such an adorable way as the pleasure built in her.

"Oh fuck I knew you'd be good with that fucking tongue," she gasped, her legs suffering from spontaneous tremors.

"You do?" you asked with an incredulous giggle, and squeezed her ass cheeks. "Apparently I was the only one with innocent intentions then."

"Don't get me wrong, me too," she looked over her shoulder at you, biting her lip. "But I also wanted you to eat my pussy really bad."

"Slutty behavior if you ask me," you said, and sank your mouth back into her pussy before she could protest.

Ashley moaned louder and pushed her hips back. Hard, to smother you with her ass. You contently let her do it at this point, more focused on licking between her folds and giving you a treat than your own breathing. This paid off a few seconds later, when the muscles in her thighs contracted and she burst into moans, grinding her ass into your face.

“Oh fuck!” she squealed under her breath, holding back from screaming louder. “Hurry up and fuck me for god’s sake!”

You stood up and bent over your pants bunched around your ankles to pull your wallet out of your pocket. Only to realize what a fucking problem there was: you hadn’t brought a fucking condom.

Were you fucking stupid or what?

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, eyeing the wallet.

Ashley turned to look at you with a scowl.

“What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t bring… well, you know.”

“A condom?” She raised an eyebrow. "Mason fuck the fucking condom fuck me already!"

Well, if things were that way you weren't going to refuse; you were too horny to think of the most responsible decision at the moment.

"Yeah you're damn right."

You dropped your wallet to the floor and focused entirely on her. Your left hand went to her waist, and with your right you grabbed your cock to bring it between her ass cheeks and rubbed the tip between her folds just a couple of times before pressing forward. You and Ashley moaned as you took the first few inches inside her.

"Oh fuck slow slow slow," she said, and you slowly took every inch of your cock inside her. "Oh yes that feels so fucking good!"

"You weren't lying about having a tight pussy, fuck," you panted already balls deep inside her, her pussy walls squeezing your cock.

"You like it huh?" she asked, looking into your eyes. "Then you better fuck it properly."

"Bet," you said, and began to rock your hips back and forth, patiently increasing the pace so as not to hurt her. Before long the thrusts became consistent, your cock going completely in and out of that smothering pussy and your smacks against her ass reverberating through the empty bathroom.

Ashley bent lower on her back, leaning with her forearms against the wall of the stall as you fucked her faster, clinging to her small waist and making her buttocks jiggle. The bubble of pleasure you were both locked in made you quickly forget you were in a public place, so it got to a point where you were making a downright shameless fuss.

Until you heard voices approaching. 

Ashley's eyes widened and she looked at you. You stopped, and your first instinct was to push her away from the wall, wrap an arm around her body and sit on the closed toilet lid (which thankfully didn't break). She was smart enough to understand what you wanted to do, so she grabbed her sweatpants and panties, pulled them off her ankles and pulled her feet up onto your knees at the exact moment two girls walked in talking.

"Yeah I don't know why he acts like that," one of the girls said, and you heard a sink turn on. "But then her fucking bitch of a best friend comes and says I'm the toxic one!"

You covered Ashley's mouth, and with her hands resting on each wall of the stall, she slowly went up and down on your cock, while you, with your free hand, rubbed her clit at the same discreet rhythm.

"Bitch cut it with that son of a bitch already!" said the other. "You've put up with too much shit from him lately."

"Fuck, should I?"

"Fuck you mean should I?! He spent a night with that hoe!"

If you didn't have Ashley moving up and down on your cock in that delicious way you would have laughed. But you did have to reinforce your fingers in her mouth, because she let out a moan that was luckily drowned out by the sound of the sink running.

"But he has a big dick!" The girl protested.

The other girl growled in frustration, and this time you did manage to let out a smile that almost turned into a chuckle.

"I can't stand you bitch, I swear to god."

The faucet turned off, and now you and Ashley were helpless if they stayed any longer and paid attention to where you were.

"I still want him to break up with me, not me him. I don't want any trouble with that damn bitch," the other girl said, and now her voice was fortunately heard further away.

"Are you chickening out or what?" the other girl replied, already out of the bathroom.

The conversation was no longer understandable to you, indicating that they finally left the bathroom. You took your hand off Ashley's mouth, and she was free to let out a relieved sigh followed by a moan.

"Fucking annoying bitches," she hissed, then slid her feet off your knees to replace them with her hands and bounced on your cock harder. "God that cock feels so good I wanna cry."

You brought your hands to her waist and reveled in the sight of your cock fully entering and exiting her pretty little body. Ashley bounced hard and fast, filling the bathroom with clapping sounds and inconspicuous moans. Her ass cheeks looked so pretty doing it that you couldn't help but squeeze both together and leave a spank on one, and she responded with a cute squeal.

"Turn around, I wanna kiss you," you panted with your hand on her lower back.

Ashley complied, and immediately rose off your cock to turn around and straddle you, her legs hanging over the sides of the toilet. You wrapped an arm around her waist, crashed your lips against hers and made her impale herself on your cock again.

With a moan against your lips she began to move on your cock as fast as she could, because the position wasn't exactly the most comfortable for her. For you, however, it was more attainable since you could simply plant your feet firmly on the floor and fuck her up and down. Ashley, relieved by this, wrapped her arms around your head and held onto your hair as you fucked her.

"Oh god I'm gonna cum so hard," she gasped into the kiss. "Fuck keep going!"

You brought your hands up to her ass to squeeze and grope it again before cranking up the engine. Ashley let her head fall back and held onto your neck with both hands, quickly being dragged into an orgasm that had her writhing and grinding her hips on top of you.

As she was riding out her climax you took the moment to kiss her pretty pale neck and under her chin, arms wrapped around her petite, quivering body to keep it pressed to yours at all times. Then, when you felt like you could continue, you used the strength in your legs to stand up with her carried. Ashley had a little scare, but still managed to hold on with her legs to your torso until you pressed her against the left wall of the stall, spread her legs wide, and with your hands behind her knees continued to hammer her pussy.

"You know I'd love to?" you asked, peppering the side of her neck with kisses.

"W-what?" she managed to reply despite her ragged breathing.

"Seeing your pretty princess face painted white," you said, and moved up to her jawline.

"Let me finish you off then, handsome," she panted with her hands on your back. "I could use a hot load for my skin."

You immediately pulled out of her pussy, lowered her, and she got on her knees in front of you, her head resting against the wall behind her. She caught your tip with her lips, sucked on it, and gripped her fingers to your shaft to stroke it at full speed. The eye contact was more intense than you expected, as Ashley's eyes went from being two pretty, shiny orbs to the eyes of a feline predator eager for its prey. If that wasn't enough, the girl was naughty enough to also grab your balls and give them such a good massage that you exploded without even warning.

Feeling a drop of your load inside her mouth, Ashley quickly pulled you out of it to masturbate you fiercely and receive every jet of cum on her pretty face. Every corner was covered in thick white liquid, in a perfect work of art that was deeply contrasted by the place you were in.

She moved her wrist slower as you stopped shooting jets, and finally took you back into her mouth to suck and clean every possible inch of your shaft.

"Fuck... so beautiful," you managed to say between gasps, admiring her face covered in cum all over.

"And if you behave from now on you can have this as many times as you want, baby," she said, and blew you a little kiss. "Pass me some toilet paper please."

You did so, and first helped her stand up before helping her wipe her face. Then you got dressed, and spent at least another five minutes just making out. It was she who pulled away from you with a small smile on her face.

"Do you want to spend the night with me?" she asked.

"Yes!" you replied embarrassingly quickly and nodded. "I'd love to."

Ashley giggled and opened the stall door.

"I'll go first, but first, your phone," she held out her hand.

"Huh, for what?"

"Just give it to me."

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and handed it to her already unlocked. She then typed for less than a minute and handed it back to you.

"Here, you earned it," she told you, winked at you and walked out of the stall and out of the bathroom.

You looked down, and what you saw was her contact with her damn number.

━•✦•━•✦•━━•✦•━•✦•━

Spren Notes: Consider this just a starter to welcome the best time of the year, hehehe. Btw, with Gowon there are already 2 of the 12 LOONA girls. Hope to be able to write all of them sooner or later. As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

[half-shadowgalra]

I just found out about this recently and just wanted to reblog so if anyone in my circle hasn’t seen it can

I’m not native and I’m not from New Zealand, but I still get chills every time I watch this

Fuck colonialism

people deserve to live on THEIR land and people who are outside of what is “Normal” get to FUCKING exist

I wish more politicians were like this

Yesterday was the first reading of the Treaty Principles Bill and it passed. It is one of the most disgusting pieces of legislation to ever be introduced, it is racist and another act of colonial violence.

Hana-Rawhiti Maipi-Clarke, is the youngest MP since 1853 in Aotearoa's parliament, she is from Te Pāti Māori (Māori party) and is the MP for the Hauraki-Waikato electorate. Know her name, she has faced so much discrimination and violence especially since campaigning and continues to lead with power. She ripped up this disgusting bill and started a haka. The House was suspended after.

This is what the haka is. This is why us Māori do it.

I am so glad we have an opposition with a proud young wahine Māori like her. That we have a whole opposition who STOOD up in solidarity with Māori or who joined in this haka, MPs from Labour, Green, and Te Pāti Māori joined in.

Other MPs were kicked out, a very senior politician here, Willie Jackson was kicked out for rightly so calling Seymour a liar. And this haka is being called inappropriate by the right. It is not. You can't call the haka inappropriate only when it has brown bodies doing it as an act against colonial violence.

Fuck Seymour and as Rawiri Waititi said, see you next Tuesday. Ake ake ake!

[obxsummer]

i still need you // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: late night conversations turn ugly, jj sets off on an adventure with his dad, and an SOS text leads to a life stopping moment for john b.

warnings: nothing you haven’t seen in obx before

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything or support me via a ko-fi

--

JJ Maybank loved you. 

If everything else in the world was suddenly a lie, that statement would remain true. JJ Maybank loved you so much, he swore it was the only thing he was good at. 

He never realized how valuable it was to have someone so in tune with his every motion, his every thought and reaction. You were always there no matter what was going on, and you always knew how to handle it.

He was trying. He was trying really hard to give you that same effort, that same love and attention you gave him every time, but he had to admit that he was struggling. What was supposed to be a simple trip to the bathroom was slowly turning into the worst conversation of his life, and as he watched your walls crash in front of him, he didn’t know what to do.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question had you flying out of the hammock and back into the bedroom before you could even get a word out. JJ was standing in the bathroom doorway, Sarah’s capped pregnancy test in his hand. Your heart fell to your ass and you just stared at him.

“Babe?”

You shook your head, tears forming faster than you wished when you realized you’d been so unfair to him. “JJ, I gotta talk to you.”

“Are you pregnant?” He repeated the question much quieter, his tone still soft and careful as he approached. 

You shook your head again. “No. It’s not mine.”

JJ nodded, his gaze dropping to the two lines on the test as he stared at it. “Then…?”

“Sarah’s.”

There was a sense of relief that overtook him, but part of him was also sad. Starting a family with you is something JJ had been hesitant about, especially with his own paternal history. He didn’t know if he could fix the curse of his dad’s behavior. Both of his so called fathers' behavior, actually. 

“Would… Would you-”

“I can’t have kids.”

JJ blinked and looked up at you. “Huh?”

You crossed your arms over your chest protectively. “Because of everything… with- with Rafe. They said there’s…it’s not impossible but it’s extremely high risk and unlikely.” 

When he was silent, you knew this was a dealbreaker. You should’ve told him, given him a chance to run before he put a ring on your finger and gave all this effort to you.

“I know I should’ve told you, so if…if you want this back, it’s okay. I don’t blame you if you wanna act like this never happened, but I’m sorry and-”

“Shut up.” The command sent you silent as you stopped pulling the ring from your finger, eyes going wide in shock. JJ shook his head in disbelief and you were somehow so terrified of what he was going to say. This could very well be the end of everything you’d been through all because you couldn’t be honest with him. 

“You… you think I would leave you? Over this?” JJ’s emotions were getting the best of him now and he couldn’t pull his gaze from your teary one. “I have your initials inked into my skin. Do you really think I would do that?”

You shrugged. “I’m not… I’m just giving you an out. Incase you want it.”

“Why would I ever want that?” He was much louder now and you almost took a step back before reminding yourself that this was JJ, your JJ. “Why would I ever leave you over something you can’t control? Sweetheart, I love you more than anything. If you wanted kids, fine, we would have them. But if you didn’t, or you couldn’t, that’s okay. I’m not willing to risk losing you over some annoying ass toddler that messes up all my shit for a handful of years.”

He pointed the small pink stick in your direction, his own eyes wet as his frustration carried into his tone. You knew it wasn’t directed at your actions, rather the way your head had been handling everything, but it still felt weird. “Don’t you ever, and I mean ever hide something like this from me just because your head is telling you, I don’t want you. Because-”

The door slammed open at the worst opportunity possible, both you and JJ turning to see Sarah and John B looking back. You gasped at them, knowing everything probably looked and sounded so wrong. “Oh, fuck.”

“It’s mine!” Sarah practically yelled, running forward to grab the test from JJ’s hand as she stood in front of him at her full height. “It’s mine, okay? And drop the fucking tone with her, JJ. You have no idea what she’s been through and-”

“Hey, it’s-” John B held a hand in front of you when you went to intercept Sarah. JJ’s eyes were wide at the words coming out of the girl’s mouth but he didn’t argue back with her. 

“Sarah, he didn’t-” 

She turned to hold a finger to you before continuing to lay into JJ. “If you so much as think about saying another nasty word to her, I’ll cut your dick off in your sleep. I swear to God, JJ, you have-”

“He wasn’t doing anything!” You blurted out when her threat became a little too realistic for your liking. “We were talking, okay and-”

“He was yelling-”

“Because I was being selfish!” You snapped at John B, frustration and emotion boiling over. “I should’ve told him everything a while ago, and I didn’t. This is on me, okay? Leave him alone.”

Three sets of eyes watched you carefully as you laid the most vulnerable pieces of you out for them to see. 

“It’s my fault,” You nearly broke there, a breathy hiccup escaping as you tried to keep it calm. “I don’t want the pity. I don’t need it. I should’ve fought back against him, tried to defend myself more but I-”

John B shook his head, his voice breaking as he whispered your name. 

You ignored him and looked straight at JJ. “He ruined the best thing I could ever give you. You deserved the chance to correct all the things your dad did to you, the things he put you through. All I wanted was to give you everything you never had, to be everything you never had because you deserve that and so much more. And I let Rafe Cameron of all people ruin me… I’m ruined for you.”

You felt like you were witnessing a slow motion car crash. All of your nightmares had consisted of one thing: losing. Losing JJ, losing your friends, losing yourself. You felt like it was coming to life in front of you.

“I can’t do this.”

Stabbing you in the heart would’ve hurt less than JJ’s statement, but you had to accept it. You gave him an out and he was taking it. Part of you wanted him to blame you because it would at least give you some confirmation on what he was thinking. All you could do was nod and look at the floor. You’d finally done it, you’d manage to push away the one person who knew you inside and out and you only had yourself to blame.

“I can’t sit here and let you think a single word of that is true.” JJ pulled at his hair. God, you looked so broken in front of him and he couldn’t believe this whole night was turning in this direction. He crossed the room to hold your face in his hands, heart breaking at the tears on your cheeks and the way you shivered from his touch.  “I’ve told you time and time again that you’re everything to me. I don’t give a flying fuck if you walked out of that whole nightmare with one eyeball and four fingers on one hand. You walked out and you’re still here. That’s what matters. You are and you will continue to be my entire world. I told you tonight, and I will continue to tell you every single day if that’s what you need.” 

“And you’re the furthest thing from ruined.” Sarah reminded you that she was in the room, John B crying behind her as they watched the scene from a small distance. “God, you’re literally perfect. A great boyfriend, a great brother, amazing friends. You’re so kind and selfless, and you’re so dedicated to each and every one of us in ways that nobody else is. I give you one look and you’re already on the same wavelength as me without a word. I’m not going to stand here and watch the future godmother and favorite aunt of my child think so negatively about herself when she is easily one of the best things in each of our lives.”

JJ was there to catch you when you sobbed, your whole body nearly collapsing in relief that he knew everything now, that you weren’t carrying what felt like the weight of the world on your shoulders. 

“I suck at sappy shit, everyone c’mere.” John B managed to pull a laugh out of the group, the four of you hugging each other tightly in the middle of your bedroom like the world around didn’t exist. Sarah, John B, and JJ had seen the worst pieces of you and still loved you unconditionally. It was time to get out of your head and embrace it, no matter how much you wanted to hide away. 

“Now that that’s over with… you’re fucking pregnant?!”

--

The chaos of the night finally settled down enough after JJ expressed his excitement for John B and Sarah. He didn’t hesitate to guide you to bed shortly after, mumble apologies being shared that tonight didn’t go differently, but you reassured him you had forever to celebrate it. Sarah eventually curled up next to you, the two of you in a fitful sleep for as long as you could while the boys stayed up to keep an eye on Groff.

Sarah was scrolling on her phone when you woke up a few hours later. She looked over her case to smile at you as you groaned loudly and stretched. 

“Are you and John B actually going to apply for a marriage license?” Your voice was raspy as you spoke, your eyes meeting hers as you shifted on your side to look at her.

She dropped her phone to the comforter. “I think so, unless he changed his mind from yesterday. That was the plan.”

You nodded, a small smile growing on your face. “Are you nervous?”

Sarah let out a breathy laugh. “Hardly. I just can’t believe all the shit that happened in the last 24 hours.”

The two of you conversed for a few moments longer before climbing out of bed to get ready for the day. While Sarah busied herself finding a cute white dress (one of her own, this time), you quickly changed and did your morning routine before settling in to help her curl her hair.

“Ready?” You asked as she slipped her shoes on and turned off the light. She nodded, grabbing your hand to pull you down the stairs. Cleo was eating a sandwich in the kitchen and looked up as you entered.

“Don’t tell me I’m losing another one today?” Her eyebrow raised in curiosity as Sarah practically skipped outside.

“We have to share the same last name for a little bit, right?” You winked in her direction, the pieces falling together before she shook her head jokingly.

JJ, Pope, and John B were already outside, apparently packing the Twinkie to head to Larissa’s grave with Groff. Your brother was literally pacing a path into the grass, his head snapping up as Sarah stepped off the porch with a tiny squeal.

“Let’s make this quick,” JJ was oblivious to the couple next to you and rubbed at his face to wake himself up. 

You hid your smile behind your hand as John B and Sarah stared at each other for a moment, both of them red in the face as she finally reached your brother’s side.

“Hey, we’re gonna get out of your hair, actually,” John B’s voice was so absentminded as he kept his eyes on Sarah, completely disregarding JJ’s confused look. He pointed in your general direction as he took her hand. “Love you, see you in a few. Don’t do anything stupid.”

You shifted into your fiancé’s shoulder, his arm falling around you as he took in the duo for the first time this morning. Pope gave you a confused glance to which you just held up your left hand and pointed to the ring on your finger. He nodded, much easier to communicate wordlessly with than JJ would be. 

“I, uh, okay?” JJ’s confusion made you laugh as Sarah and John B disappeared around the side of the house without a word, small talk being shared between the two of them as they made their way down the dock. He turned to look at you and clocked the smile on your face. “Something to share with the class?”

You shook your head, pushing up on your toes to kiss him. “Not in the slightest. You ready to go?”

JJ glanced between the Twinkie and the porch where Groff was getting to his feet. “How about you stay here with the girls and Pope? I… this is my mom. I feel like it should be personal, you know?”

You glared at him. “What did John B say?”

The way he took a step back already told you the answer. “No, nothing. Nothing, I just think I should give this a shot, on my own, you know?”

“JJ, I swear-”

He grabbed your shoulders carefully. “I love you. And if shit goes south, I can’t risk having you in danger with me not being able to help. So, please. Stay here, with them, and I’ll be back. Okay?”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” You admitted quietly, your hand grabbing on his wrist. You weren’t so convinced by his reasoning and with Groff giving you weird vibes, you really didn’t like this idea. “Be careful? I know he’s supposedly your dad and all but…”

JJ nodded in understanding, his eyes catching on someone behind you. “Told you I’ll always come home to you, and I mean it. Love you, sweet girl.”

He kissed you softly, hand slipping from your shoulder to hold your neck gently. You hummed in satisfaction, your fingers grabbing his flannel to pull him slightly closer. 

“Alright, lovebirds.” Groff’s voice ruined your goodbye as he stopped next to you. Pulling away from JJ, you gave the man a sharp glare, unamused by his comments and whatever assumed power he thought he had over JJ. 

Rolling your eyes, you gave JJ one more kiss. “Love you, please be careful.” 

You stepped away from him to head back inside, but an unfamiliar hand landed on your shoulder, stopping your retreat. You turned back to Groff, looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and removed his hand, pointing down at the ring on your finger. “I…um. I always wanted a daughter, Larissa did too. I’m glad you’ll be joining our family one day.”

The disgust on your face was very evident as you stared back at him, forcing a nod. “Yeah, considering you gave away your own son, I’m finding that hard to believe.”

Groff gave you a short nod before turning to climb into the Twinkie’s passenger seat as JJ slammed the door of the driver’s side. You shook your head as the van started and drove away, the sinking feeling in your stomach building with each passing moment. 

“You feel the same way I do about this?” Pope asked as he joined your side, the two of you watching the van disappear out on the road.

You sighed, “We shouldn’t have let him go alone. That man is the biggest manipulator if I’ve ever seen one.” 

“Now all we can do is wait and hope he comes back, preferably without that pathetic excuse for a man.”

--

While JJ busied himself adventuring with his dad, Pope and Cleo went out to grab gas for the boats with the remainder of the five grand down payment Wes Genrette had given. You and Kiara busied yourselves trying to get some items together for the potential trip to Morocco (if it happened) but mostly trying to downsize to what could be taken to Ward’s rental condo. The property was left in Sarah’s name, thankfully away from Rose’s evil claws, so your group could try to wiggle in as best as possible, but the three bedroom condo was no match for your family of seven, and soon to be a baby.

“I’m gonna grab supplies and shit from outside,” You said with a huff, brushing the sweat from your forehead. “Be right back.”

Kie was head first in making sandwiches and food to take along, so you dipped out of the room by yourself. The wind was refreshing, blowing across your skin as the two of you headed into the store area to collect your items. 

You grabbed a handful of first aid items, shoving them in your worn backpack with as much organization as you could muster. 

Humming along to the music on your phone, you moved fluidly to grab random supplies from the walls, figuring the store wouldn’t need them much anyway considering the property wasn’t yours soon.

Something moved in your peripheral and you turned to see the Twinkie parked outside again. A small frown formed on your face; you didn’t think JJ and Groff would be back that quick. Walking out, you glanced to catch sight of the blond boy but came up short. 

“Babe?” You called out, heading toward the driver side in case they were still talking inside. Except, they weren’t. Nobody was inside, actually. “JJ?”

You spun on your heels in hopes of him popping out, but still no sight of him. Setting your course to the house in hopes that he’d be there instead, you were met with Chandler Groff popping out of the side door in what looked like a hurry.

Stopping, you crossed your arms and glared at him. “Can I help you?”

He had the tube containing the scroll in his hand, and motioned toward it. “Uh, hi. I uh, I just came to grab the scroll to make sure it’s not just the artifact from the mausoleum.”

His rushed tone told you there was more to the story but you nodded. “Mhmm, um. Where’s JJ?”

“Oh, he stayed behind at the family plot. He sent me to retrieve this. I thought I’d give him some time alone, you know?” He took a few steps toward you, that you immediately repeated in the opposite direction to put some distance back. Any further and you’d be against the Twinkie and out of options.

You dug your fingers into your arm. “He certainly got his lying skills from Luke because I don’t believe you in the slightest.”

Groff laughed but you could tell it was forced. “Well, you hardly know me, of course you aren’t going to believe me. You can ask your friend in there… uh Kiara is it? She seemed fine with the idea.”

“Oh so you won’t mind if I just call him, then?” You reached into your pocket where your phone was still playing music.

“Yeah, yeah you should. You should call him. He’ll confirm. Go ahead.”

Your back hit the metal of the van as Groff continued to push into your space. You glanced down, swiping for the FaceID to activate and unlock before completely bypassing checking JJ’s location and instead pressing the lock buttom twice. Times like these you really thanked Sarah for helping you set up the shortcuts she did.

All it took was that one split second before Groff’s hands were shoving you and your head collided with the window of the Twinkie, glass shattering from the impact. Your phone slipped from your hands and you gasped, knees giving out as you grabbed your head in pain.

“Kie!” The scream tore through your throat but was cut off as Groff grabbed your throat and yanked you off the ground. 

Panic set in instantly, all of your senses blurring as images of Rafe flashed in front of you. You struggled to get air in your lungs and gasped, hands shoving and feet kicking like it would do you any good.

One last hit to your head, and the sweet dark relief took over.

Then silence.

--

You weren’t sure if you were awake.

There had been moments like this in the past when you were at the Camerons’, so blissed and drugged out that you couldn’t tell the difference from reality or hallucinations. Like a sensory tank, there was no light or noise. Just you and your racing thoughts and the loud thump of your heart in your ears.

Here you were, all over again. No sense of where you were, what had happened, or who was around. You could barely breathe and the hefty duct tape on your mouth stole your inability to speak. The sharp bite of pain when you tried to move was thanks to zip ties that were too tight, and you realized how utterly stuck you were.

The tears came first, followed by the hyperventilating. You tried running through the methods they taught you in therapy, the counting, the timed breathing. JJ’s voice was echoing in your head to keep your airways open and not clench your hands but JJ wasn’t here, you couldn’t move, and one of your main airways was not an option.

An attempted cry left your body, but you doubted anyone could hear it. It was so muffled and quiet that it might as well have been a whisper in a concert arena. 

You were going to die. You were going to die here, alone, with nothing but the thoughts in your head to keep you company. You hoped Kiara was okay. Hoped that none of your friends would be the ones to find you, if they even could. 

The tears were unstoppable now, small sobs escaping as you tried to pull air in your lungs but it was getting harder. It felt like someone’s hand squeezing around your throat.

Tighter, tighter, tighter.

Gone.

--

Kiara was a stranger to what it felt like being knocked unconscious. Hell, the closest she’s ever gotten was because of Pope nearly concussing her with an ore a couple of weeks ago. It was never from being punched in the head and colliding with the table.

The headache was killer, enough to send her vision swaying but she forced herself to her feet. “Ah, fuck.” Her fingers poked the area where the pain was radiating, but no blood came back so she considered that a good sign. 

“Kie!” 

John B’s scream was not a good one, and it was enough to get her moving out of the house to see him sprinting across the yard with Pope, Cleo, and Sarah close behind. 

“What’s happening?” Her voice was much quieter than she expected as the all moved toward her. Pope’s hands were gentle as they hovered her face, taking in the bruising on her cheek.

“What happened to you?” Cleo asked, wincing at the injury.

Kiara shook her head, “I can’t… just give me a second.”

“Where is she?” John B asked, eyes scanning the entire ground. He was on the verge of screaming or crying, or shit maybe he needed to throw up. “The SOS text came from her phone, fro-from the shortcut, where is she?”

“John B!” Sarah picked up the device in question that was resting in the grass near the van, the music still playing from it loud enough that she could hear.

The sight of your case made his heart drop. “Shit, stay here. Check the house,” He directed toward Pope and Cleo, practically sprinting toward Sarah.

“It seems fine,” She commented, “Music still on and everything. Maybe she did it accidentally?”

Except, John B wasn’t looking at the phone in Sarah’s hand. His eyes were locked on the nearly shattered window behind her head, a window that hadn’t been fucked up before. Sarah noticed his silence and looked over her shoulder, the broken glass answer enough that no you didn’t do this accidentally.

John B yelled your name again, nothing following his call, so he took off running into the shop with hopes that maybe you would be there. If Kiara was in the house, chances were, you weren’t.

Except the shop was empty, besides your backpack resting on the counter with various shit scattered around it.

“Is she in here?” Sarah asked as she ran up behind John B, her eyes scanning the room for any sight of you. “John B?”

“What the fuck?” You brother tugged at his hair and moved to where your bag was sitting as he tried to look for any clue, anything, that would tell him where you were. “No, no, no. We can’t do this again. I-I.. I told her I’d never let something like this happen, what if-”

“John B, John B, hey!” Sarah grabbed his face as gently as possibly. “Do not lose your shit. Not right now. She needs you, okay?”

His hands were fucking shaking and suddenly, this was too scary for him. Something had happened, and now you were missing.

“Look, look. I’ll get you a water and we can see if Kie remembers anything okay? It’s probably a miscommunication and-” Sarah turned toward the red Coca-Cola cooler that usually housed the ice for cold drinks and stopped short at the screw driver wrenched between one of the closures. “Did you lock this?”

John B pulled his hand from his face to look at what she was referring to. “What? No, we never…”

Sarah ripped the screwdriver out in a second, flipping the latch to unlock the lid so she could pry it open. “John B!”

The Routledge boy jumped forward to look and nearly threw up his breakfast. “Move, move!”

Reaching down, he grabbed ahold of your unmoving body, your skin so pale and cold that he didn’t know what to do. His knees hit the ground hard as he laid you down, hands moving to shake you. “Wake up, hey. Wake up!”

Sarah called your name, her touch gentle as she pulled the duct tape off your mouth, but you still didn’t move. “John B, she’s not breathing!”

“Pope, help!” 

Like a series of deja vu, John B’s hands went to your chest to push down harshly, the rhythmic movement too familiar for comfort. Sarah had been in this same position under his hands before, a gunshot wound to her hip and barely enough blood to keep her alive. John B never wanted to do this again, and he sure as shit never wanted to do it to you.

“Pinch her nose, and breathe in her mouth,” He gasped out in an attempt to keep the sobs at bay. “Pope!”

Sarah followed the directions, pinching your nose and opening your mouth to push air back into your lungs. She was shaking, barely able to see through her tears. 

A series of footsteps came seconds later, and Pope swore his whole world stopped at the sight ahead of him. You, his practically adopted sister, lying still on the floor as John B attempted CPR. Kiara nearly screamed, and Cleo stood in shock as Pope flung forward to take over the compressions with more confidence and precision.

“Go, again,” He directed to Sarah as John B tumbled back against the counter in shock. Pope started his compressions again, keeping his count outloud. 

Kiara stumbled to your brother’s side, wrapping her arms around him as they stared on, horrified. Cleo moved to grab scissors, her careful movement cutting the zip ties from your ankles as Pope continued to put pressure on your chest.

And then you coughed. 

And Pope fell into a fit of tears. Removing his hands from your chest, he fell back on his ass in what felt like exhaustion. 

“Aye! You okay?” Cleo was trying to keep a level head but the way her heart was pounding against her chest told her otherwise. She’d never been so close to losing someone, not like this. She carefully snipped the remaining ziptie and your hands instantly reached for Sarah, who cried into your hair and helped you sit up.

Despite your wishes, you couldn’t get your voice to work and opted for nodding instead. Your throat ached and your head felt like it was going to shatter into pieces, and you were so, so cold.

“Holy shit,” Pope choked out as he watched you blink and your own chest move air into your body. Your head was reeling at all of their concern and voices so you closed your eyes and continued to focus on just evening out the flow of air. 

John B ripped himself out of Kiara’s arms and next to Sarah the second he got a grasp on what the fuck just happened. “Hey, hi. You’re okay. It’s okay now.”

You reached out to grab John B’s hand, squeezing enough to let him know you could hear him and were responsive. Sarah’s warmth left your side a moment after and John B easily took her place, his arms cradling you against him like you were a small child as he cried into your hair. 

Wrapping your arms around him, you blinked your eyes open to see Pope sitting in front of you with Cleo rubbing his shoulder soothingly, Kie leaning against his side. He quickly brushed the tears from his cheeks but it already told you everything. 

You mouthed a thank you and cuddled in closer to John B’s chest, opting to just breathe breathe breathe.

You weren’t sure what the fuck had just happened, but it seemed like your friends were about to have one crazy ass story to tell. 

-- 

John B did not let you out of his sight. 

After carrying you back to the house and directing Sarah to help you into your warmest sweatshirt and sweatpants, he looked to Kiara for answers.

The girl’s brainfog had thankfully cleared and she was about to recount Groff showing up, claiming he and JJ found the lens and needed the scroll. When Kiara asked where her friend was, Groff knocked her out, which meant her intercepted you next.

Nobody wanted to ask questions, but the SOS text on their phone screens was hard to pull their eyes off of.

When everyone had phones replaced following El Dorado, Sarah had made sure to set up a shortcut that sent an SOS text with a location to the group chat in case of an emergency. She hoped it would never be used, but she was so thankful you thought quick enough to use it in this situation. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen if not.

“Here.” She handed you an warm cup of tea with honey in hopes that it would help soothe the soreness in your throat but the handprint outside on your skin told her otherwise. After helping you crawl under the covers, she sent a quick text to John B that you were settled before the group came tumbling in. 

Your brother instantly threw himself next to you near the top of the best, shifting so you could lean against him and he could keep a hand on your arm at all times. Kiara took your other side, sitting crisscross as she held an ice pack to her head. 

“Y’all are dramatic,” Your voice was practically gone as you joked with them before taking another sip of your tea.

“And you sound like you smoke six packs a day,” Cleo chimed back with a teasing smile on her face. “Save your voice, girly. We got you.”

You gave her a weak smile.

The next twenty minutes consisted of everyone sharing what the fuck had happened in the past few hours. Pope and Cleo nearly got wiped out by Kelce which caused them to collide with Sarah and John B who had been running from Topper and Ruthie. Kiara took a gnarly blow to the head like you did, and JJ was still absent from the group.

Splendid. 

“So, what? Groff left with the map and lens and JJ’s still with him?” Pope recounted as he started to pace the floor. 

Your calls to JJ had been ignored and considering he didn’t show up with the SOS text, you were really worried Groff had gotten to him. Your fingers moved across the screen to pull up his location again and you dropped it on the center of the bed so your friends could see his location pinging from the middle of the ocean.

Turning to John B, you tried to communicate with your hands that you all needed to leave, but he was unamused. “No, no. You’re not leaving this room, let alone this house any time soon. You hear me? Grounded.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the comforter to open your notes app and type away. 

Then you guys need to go. If something happens to him and I’m the reason you didn’t go, I’ll never forgive myself. 

You shoved the device in John B’s direction, watching as he skimmed the words before shaking his head slightly. Annoyed by his silence, you moved it over so Sarah could read it instead.

“She’s got a point, John B. We need to go.”

John B took a look around the room, everyone’s expressions matching Sarah’s as they read the message on your phone. He hated this, the thought of pulling you out of a safe space after he just nearly broke your ribs from the force of his own hands because you weren’t breathing.

“Fine, fine,” He admitted defeat when even Cleo nudged her head in the direction of the water. “Go get your shit. I need to talk to this one first.”

Your eyes were going to get stuck in the back of your head if you rolled them again so you just sighed and flopped against the pillows as everyone scattered. Sarah patted your knee through the covers, reassuring she’d grab your backpack and everything before slipping out the door, leaving you with your brother.

You quickly typed on your phone as John B watched you.

I’m not arguing with you via notes app, bro.

He laughed and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Don’t wanna argue. Just um…” He let out a breath, tears filling his eyes faster than he intended. “You really scared me, out there. And I don’t like the idea of you getting thrown back into danger, but the idea of leaving you here is even worse. So I need you… I really need you to promise me something.”

John B shifted to sit where you could see him easier and not strain your neck looking up at him. He grabbed the phone from your hand and let it fall, taking both of your palms into his. “I need you to promise me that you’ll stick with Sarah. And you won’t go throwing yourself in front of anyone if it comes to it. You… you both mean way too much for me to lose you to a stupid fucking treasure hunt. Okay?”

You squeezed his hands and nodded, because it’s really all you could do. So you did.

And now, you needed to find JJ… but nothing was ever that simple for you all, was it?

--

a/n: did i redeem myself??? also john b is not over what just happened and i think another crashout is coming

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything or support me via a ko-fi

[puck-luck]

Congrats on 1,000! You deserve it times a million 💞 ! I was wondering if you could do Quinn, diamond, 26

thank you!!

"Want me to fill you up?"

Warnings: trying for a baby so... unprotected p in v wc: 630

You’ve been trying with Quinn for a couple of weeks now, ever since the party where you drunkenly held a baby and practically begged Quinn for a baby of your own. He’d been true to his word, fucking you bare just the next day, and he’d been insatiable ever since. Sex is almost a nightly occurrence when Quinn is home. When he’s not home, he always sends you a message about how he wishes he was there to fuck you until he’s dripping out of you. He’s been particularly persistent ever since Garland’s baby was born and he was named godfather– Quinn has been fucking you every chance he gets. You’re astonished that the two pregnancy tests you’ve taken so far– one for each week– have been negative. 

Quinn’s in the shower now, fresh out of practice. He’s got a game tomorrow night and they fly out in the morning, so you’re expecting him to fuck you well tonight. 

He doesn’t. He tells you that he’s just not feeling it right now, which you can understand. Sometimes you get like that, and as much as you want a baby, you’re not going to force Quinn to fuck you when he doesn’t want to. Instead, you have a nice dinner and you lay in bed together, lazily intertwining your legs and exchanging kisses. 

When you wake, Quinn’s already shuffling around the room, throwing clothes into a bag. You watch him, eyes hooded and blinking through the pull of sleep. He notices that you’re awake after a few minutes, looking up from the beanies in his hands. He was trying to decide which to wear with his suit, the navy one. You point at the cream colored one, then bring your hand to your mouth to stifle a yawn. Quinn puts the black beanie down, then places the cream one on top of his bag, and crawls back onto the bed. 

He hovers above you and kisses you good morning. “Thought you were going to sleep through me leaving,” he teases quietly, knowing that you’re still adjusting to being awake and would hate for him to speak at a normal volume when he’s so close. “I’ve got fifteen minutes before I have to leave. Want me to fill you up before I go? Maybe you’ll have a surprise for me when I get back, hm?”

You hum, shuffling out from under the covers. You touch the back of Quinn’s neck and kiss him. Your other hand pulls your panties to the side, baring your entrance to Quinn. You’ve taken to sleeping in just your panties and a sleep shirt, even though the weather is getting chillier. His easy access is worth the cold.

A ghost of a smile touches the corners of Quinn’s lips before he kisses your cheek. He works a hand into his pants, only unzipping them and shoving the fabric that left him covered to his knees. He strokes himself as you kiss, moving slowly. There’s no rush, really. You’ve had quickies that went much faster than 15 minutes, so neither of you are worried about taking too long.

Once Quinn is hard enough, he starts to press into you. The sensuality is enough to make your brain go fuzzy.Quinn’s gotten much more vocal since you’ve started fucking with a purpose– his little hums, grunts, and moans are like treasures when they fill your ears. “Oh,” he breathes when you clench down, lifting your left leg to notch it over his hip. He presses forward until his cock is fully engulfed by your pussy. He stays in place for a minute while he licks into your mouth. “Love you,” he murmurs. “I can’t wait for this to take. You’re going to make the prettiest babies for me.”

[leoascendente]

PAC/ Intuitive messages III 🔮

Hi my loves and welcome to this new PAC! This time we have the third edition of intuitive messages. As always, take a moment to check what pile calls you the most, you could have messages in more than one too. Take only what resonates and leave the rest 🩷

* Don't make life decitions based on a general reading online, use your discernment. Minors dni 🔞

For private readings click here

My blog in spanish here

All pics are from pinterest, credits to their owners

Pile 1/pile 2/pile 3

Pile 1:

🫧 You need to focus on your career and long term goals, things are changing and you need to be ready

🫧 There's a blonde woman around your age you must be careful of, she could be in your same work enviroment or friend group

🫧 An unexpected amount of money is going to land in your lap as a work of magic, buy yourself something you enjoy as a sing of gratitude

🫧 You have a lot of sexual energy, keep it healthy and for singles, use it wisely to manifest your true love

🫧 There's a secret admirer that is planning to approach you with a nice surprise, be open to receive

🫧 Don't worry about those who don't wish you well, you are protected and they are being watched by karma

🫧 A commitment is about to happen, it could be in love or in career, so take it as resonates but I feel it's more related to love and romance

🫧 You'll be more in tune with your spiritual nature, you'll understand better the signs from your guides in your daily life

🫧 Some complications could appear, keep grounded and trust that you are being guided, you'll overcome every obstacle with grace and divine protection

🫧 Your guides will communicate through numbers 1222 or 1212 to tell you that everything is going in your favor, foxes and the scent of flowers will be signs too. Angelic beings are very present in your life, you'll see references to them very often, especially cherubims

Pile 2

🎀 Mercury retrograde will be an amazing time for you, it will bring you unexpected good luck. Check your Mercury's natal placement to know what areas will be impacted positively

🎀 I see a trip or vacations of some kind, maybe it's just having more free time to relax and invest in yourself. It could also mean that something special will happen during the holidays

🎀 Money will be entering your life, if you were scared of not being able to pay debts just know that you'll receive the money you need

🎀 You'll get invited to a night out with friends or a celebration, accept that offer because you'll have an amazing time

🎀 A massive change is about to happen in your life, I think you can sense it too. Rest as much as you can and do things that keep you grounded

🎀 Good things will be happening as a Dharma for something good you did in the past, it's a reward from Universe

🎀 You could loose an important object but it will be a sign that you have overcome a major challenge and the worst is left behind

🎀 You'll receive a major piece of advice from an older woman, for some I see a passed loved one communicating through dreams

🎀 Change your daily routines, there's something about it that no longer works for you and needs to be reorganized. Also, rest more often, your health needs it

🎀 Your guides are showing me grapes, it could be a sign to eat them more often or a sign of material abundance. Dolphins will be signs of upcoming luck and sharks a sign of divine protection. For some I'm hearing to develop your connection with the sea or the water element

Pile 3:

💖 Love is in the air for you my dear! Get ready because you are about to enter into the relationship of your dreams

💖 All your problems are going to get solved, don't stress that much. Your guides announce a triumph over troubles so there's no need to worry

💖 You are on the right path, stop doubting yourself honey, you really need to work on self sabotage or negative thinking

💖 You are about to get invited to a very romantic date, someone is really in love with you and wants to show it 🤭

💖 You'll be getting extra money, your guides are telling you to don't hold too tight to it and simply use it with gratitude. You could have some messages in pile 1 too

💖 There's an spiritual lesson you'll be learning that will feel like a hug to your soul, something you've experienced is going to make sense after receiving this info

💖 Someone with prominent Sagittarius placement will be a benevolent force in your life. I'm also hearing something about the house sagitarius is in your natal chart too, it could be an area of luck

💖 Don't resist change, simply embrace it and remember that it is happening for you to achieve your greatest outcome

💖 Do things your own way, don't force yourself to fit into a label you don't resonate with. Also, doing things different doesnt mean being making them wrong, you are on your own path

💖 Your guides really want you to focus on your confidence and inner power because you have more than you what to acknowledge. Lions and elephants are your animals, 777 your sign that your manifestations are becoming real and you'll see rainbows as a sign of joy and love

[seasprincess]

cowboy!rafe x mayors daughter!reader

part 1 here

Warnings: smut, mdni, unprotected s3x (wrap it), praise, nicknames, nippl3 sucking, degrading if you squint sweaty man

Rafe had spent his evening in a east he usually does when being around you.

His hands in his pants touching himself to the thought of you in that dress.

That god damn dress.

He loves when you wear dresses, which is most of the time if not all.

He loves the way they flow on your body, the way they stop just on your thighs or the way that when you sit down and it rides up a bit it shows him what colour panties you’re wearing. God does it get him hot and flustered knowing what the panties he should be taking off look like. Jesus does he want to take them off. See that pretty pussy of yours.

But he know it can’t happen, he knows he can’t do that.

So he has to stick to his hand.

For now at least.

The sun beams down on your skin as you make your way to your porch. Sitting in that swing seat you got for your birthday. You practically live there.

It’s calming to sit there and just swing back and forth. And it also gives a great veiw of Rafe when he’s chopping up wood for your fire for that evening. Your father really does make that poor guy work. Working any job at this point. But Rafe doesn’t care. He wants this job.

He looks so good with that axe in his hands. Muscles flexing as he cuts the wood. His biceps on show due to his white tank top. Which he decides to take off in that moment. Like he wants to tease you more.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his abs, the way they glisten from the sunlight and sweat. You could just lick them. Maybe when he’s less sweaty. He looks so good, you could just-

“Darlin’ it’s rude to stare.” Rafe’s voice brings you out of the trance and you look up at his face rather than his other body parts. He just smirks as he watches you swing back and forth. Back and forth.

“I wasn’t staring.” You were.

“Mhm sure.” He says as he takes his hat off to rub his for head of any sweat. Guess he does take the hat off.

“I wasn’t!” You say with a small pout, acting like a spoilt child. Well you are spoiled so that parts right at least.

“You know it’s okay if you were. I don’t blame you.” He says as he places the axe on the ground and starts making his way over to you. His boots clacking on the wooden planks of the decking as he reaches in front of you. He towers above you when you stand up, so when you’re sat down. It’s like a mountain and a rock. He leans against the wall as he puts a toothpick in his mouth and fiddles with it. Looking at you. “So when we riding again sweetheart?”

The nickname makes your heart skip a beat as a small blush forms on your cheeks. Making them pink and rosy.

“Oh um, I don’t know. Don’t mind.”

Rafe chuckles and rolls his eyes as he pushes off the wall.

“God you do give up fast.”

“I’m not giving up!” You retaliate as you sit up straight, defending yourself. “I’m just busy.”

“Doing what?” Rafe quickly says back as he gets closer to you. So close his knees are touching the chair you’re sat in. “Cause you look like you’re just sittin’ down to me, darlin’.”

Rafe’s hand comes to your chin as he makes you look up at him. Eyes taking in every feature of your face as his rough thumb rubs your chin.

“Do you know how wild you drive me baby?” Rafe says as he smirks down at you. He’s decided he’s had enough of your back and forth flirting with no outcome. He needs you.

Bad.

“Hmmm no.” You smirk back. Yes you did know. Of course you knew. But you didn’t think it was that bad. “My dad is out.”

“I know.” He replies before he leans down and kisses you. Softly and passionately. Hes wanted to do this for so long and now it’s finally happening. He’s finally getting his wish.

And of course you kiss back. You’ve been waiting for this hair as long as he has.

“Why don’t you show me that pretty room of yours baby?”

Immediately you spring up and slot your hand in his. Leading him to the room.

He wastes no time to push you up against the door as soon as you shut it. Hands finding the hem of your dress and pulling it over your head.

“So pretty f’me.” He says as his kisses move to your neck, biting and sucking. Causing you to whimper and moan as you squirm in his touch. You’ve needed this so much.

His hand slithers down your body before reaching your panties, earning a gasp from you as his finger brushes over your clothes clit.

“So wet for me huh?” He smirks. Almost like he’s proud of himself for making you like this just from kissing you. “Needy girl.”

Both his hands travel to your hips as he looks at you.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks as he scans your eyes for any doubts.

You quickly nod your head and reply a small “Yeah.”

He smiles before picking you up and laying you on the bed. Undoing your bra.

“Fuck you’re so pretty doll.” He says as his lips attach to your nipple.

You’re just a whimpering mess as you play with his hair. Tugging on it slightly as his hands slowly pull down your pants.

“Gonna fuck you so good sweetheart.”

Rafe discards your panties somewhere in the room before working on taking his jeans and pants off. And in a few seconds he’s naked like you. He climbs onto the bed as he holds out his hand.

“I told you I was going to tech you how to ride.”

You pick up on his words and start straddling him. Looking at him as he places his hands back on your hips.

You slowly lower yourself down onto him with a moan. You’ve imagined this for a while. And he is definitely bigger than how you imagined.

“Fuccckkk baby.” Rafe moans out as you start moving up and down. That good feeling building up every time you go back down. “Taking me so well.”

Rafes hands help you move as he watches where he enters you. This is so much better than he imagined. And gosh has he imagined this. A lot.

Your movements get more difficult as you keep trying to ride him. But it’s just too much for you.

“Rafey.” You say with a slight whimper. Immediately he picks up on it and nods.

“Shhh baby. I’ve got you.” He says before flipping you over and getting on top of you. Smirking above you as he renters you.

You moan again as he kisses the corner of your mouth, his thrusts fast and deep.

He needed this so of course he’s not holding back. “Good girl.”

He places a kiss on your forehead as you grip on his bicep. Steadying yourself as he just watches you.

Rafe lets out a moan as your legs start to shake. His finger slowly rubbing your clit, he wants you to cum. He needs it too.

“Cum baby. Cum on my cock.” Rafe says before placing another kiss on your neck.

It doesn’t take you long to cum after that. Just like Rafe wanted.

His thrusts slow down slightly as his dick twitches before painting your walls with his seed.

“Fuck baby.” He says as he kisses your soft lips. Smiling as he lays down next to you, arm wrapping around you as he pulls you closer.

You may regret this decision later.

a/n: there will be a part three 🥳 Divider- @anitalenia

tags: @littlelamy @maybankslover

[yuyusshinelight]

Friends feat j.wy

⚠️ Advertisings ⚠️

♪ This does NOT represent Wooyoung in any way, it's just fiction.

♪ NSFW! I should say that minors can't read this but I can't stop them from reading this so read at your own risk.

♪ English is not my first language so sorry if there's any mistake.

Note: I wanted to write something special for Wooyoung because of his birthday 🫣. I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it and enjoy your read! Love you my stars!

Neither of you knew how it happened in the first place. It just happened one movie night at Wooyoung's apartment in which your best friend's dick decided to get hard for no apparent reason.

Neither of you felt something romantic for the other, and it seemed to be a bit annoying for your friend so, without malice, you offered to help him calm it down. It was just a harmless handjob, no? It wasn't like seeing his dick was going to trade your friendship or something like that. But what started as a simple handjob ended with you taking his full length in your mouth, willingly swallowing everything Wooyoung had to offer. His hands pressed your head down his length while yours played with his sensitive balls as you wished.

When the idea of helping him came up, you didn't think that your panties would get as wet as they ended. Nor was it in your mind either that you would end up legs wide open on the sofa with Wooyoung devouring your needy cunt so deliciously. Moaning like a bitch in heat every time his fingers fucked sinfully your clenching moistened hole while his tongue swirled playfully around your clit.

Of course, neither of you could ever have imagined that your usual movie night on Friday would have ended with his cock deep inside your pussy, piercing your cervix for hours in different positions.

That night woke up an intense burning desire that has gradually turned into an unhealthy obsession. A dirty, depraved spiral of unfiltered, unchecked sex where you just want to be full and Wooyoung just wants to get his cock wet. You are just two best friends using each other whenever your bodies call for it. No matter where, no matter what time. Just one call and you two will be a mess of moans, saliva, sweat and semen. You really are like animals in heat.

The sexual need of being with each other is such that you even have skipped classes at university. It's true that classes are important, of course they are, but being pinned against the door in the bathroom with Wooyoung's hand in your mouth to keep you from making more noise than necessary while this horny boy whispers all kinds of unblissful things in your ear are way too much better than to hear some boring old teacher explaining who knows what.

"Although I love those angelic sounds of yours too much I need you to keep that little mouth shut, babe. Can you do that for me? Or do you want us to be discovered? Does the idea of the whole faculty watching me piercing your little naughty pussy turn you on? Is that it?".

And how not to mention those naughty and entertaining evenings in which Wooyoung tries to keep his composure while playing with some friends online because you are cockwarming him so deliciously. You don't give a shit about his game, either his friends at the other end of the call. You just want his cock inside you. On more than one occasion Wooyoung has had to mute himself for how much you were clenching around him, making him moan in such a shameless way.

There is not a Friday night in which you two don't end up fucking after watching a movie. Although, lately you have been starting with the foreplay while the movie was still running in the background. Wooyoung sliding his naughty hand under the sheet that covers you both only to grope for the edge of the miniature piece of fabric you supposedly call a skirt and which you have clearly put on to provoke him, successfully finding your clit underneath the already wet fabric of your panties and starting to play with it.

But when you try to do something similar to him, suddenly your hands are held by his free hand. On his face reigns that triumphant smile that you have so often wanted to tear off but that now makes you clench your thighs tightly because a trickle of your sticky arousal decides to run all over your pussy.

"Only half an hour of film left, babe. If you cum before the movie ends I will edge you for another half an hour".

Half an hour of being a victim of Wooyoung's torturous game is hell but you're too stubborn to lose against him so you barely make it through those damn credits where you don't even give him time to take the movie off. In the blink of an eye you're already in his lap, jumping like a rabbit in heat on his cock in search of your precious, long-awaited orgasm.

"Only half an hour, kitty. If you cum before me just one time I will edge you for a whole hour".

[miupow]

CRAVE。⧼ PROLOGUE ⧽ ─── 투모로우바이투게더

stay away from the woods。

★ pairing。txt ot5 x fem!reader‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎g。⧼ 📖 ⧽ fantasy , romance , comedy , angst , eventual smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎cw。descriptions of personal injury and blood ・animal attacks ・mentions of illness and death ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎wc。2. 1 k | to library。

★ includes。。。heeseung from enhypen

notes from lia。finally!! happy thanksgiving everyone, i'm thankful for every single one of my amazing readers!! i hope you enjoy the prologue to my very much anticipated crave series!! look out for the first chapter in the beginning of december!!

all your life, you had been told to never step foot into the woods. that there were monsters lurking just below its dark canopy, hiding just out of sight and patiently waiting to strike. and yet the whistling of the pines has never been this entrancing. the trees taunt you from your safe little cabin, their outstretched branches waving and creaking in the wind as if they were beckoning you closer and closer.

you can see them just as perfectly from the bakery as you can from your bedroom window. they feel inescapable.

the shrill, tinny ringing of a bell snaps your attention away from the open window, your thoughts having consumed you as you laid out fresh loaves of bread to cool in the frosty air. you brush your floury hands off on your apron and turn to welcome your customer, your polite smile growing into a warm grin when you recognize the lanky boy standing by your workbench.

“that’s an awful lot to be doing all on your own.” he comments with a sideways smile, running his fingers through his auburn hair.

“i open the shop by myself every morning, hee.” you reply pointedly, rising to your tip toes to give him a quick hug before brushing past him towards the towering stone oven. “you know mother can’t work this early anymore.”

“couldn’t you ask one of your siblings to help?”

“they’re too young to use the oven or mill the wheat, they’d be no help at all. it’s not even that much work, really, just baking and cleaning. i don’t want to burden them with all of this on top of everything else.”

nothing has been the same since your father fell ill. the bakery was his and your mother’s, a humble way to support their family and their quaint little village for decades. you were never particularly wealthy, but you had enough to get by. consumption, the village doctor had called it. it was a truly fitting word for the disease that slowly consumed your poor, frail father whole. nothing was left, not even the bones. a mere shadow laid in bed all day, a ghost whose coughs have began to sound like rattling chains. none of the medicines the doctor prescribed ever worked, they only seemed to be making him sicker. he said that there was a hospital in the royal city, but your village was days away by carriage, and you and your mother had nowhere near the means to fund the trip. part of you were certain he wouldn’t survive the journey either way.

your mother now spends her days caring for him, an apothecary’s daughter clinging on to the last shreds of hope that her remedies will ward off the hands of death. you desperately wish you could feel the same, but you’ve already begun grieving… until recently.”

“mother said she’d stop by to help this afternoon.” you assert, leaving no more room for discussion. you can feel his eyes on your back, watching you as you stoke the firewood and slide trays of dough into the oven. “you worry about me too much! i’m not a little girl anymore.”

“i worried about you then and i’ll worry about you now.” heeseung chuckles endearingly, erupting a swarm of butterflies in your belly. “you’ve always been a little too brave.”

his words remind you of your mulling thoughts, pulling your gaze back to the window. “heeseung, have you ever known someone who went into the woods?”

heeseung is quiet for a worryingly long time. “the blackwoods? not anyone who made it back… why?”

your mind is screaming at you to keep your mouth shut, but you just can’t keep it all bottled up inside anymore. you’ve never hidden a single thing from your best friend, except this. “i was reading my mothers books the other day.” you admit softly, unable to look him in the eye. “in one of them it said there is a plant that grows in the blackwoods, a type of flower. it can cure any illness, save people from the brink of death…”

“y/n.” heeseung warns, his face dropping. “you’re not seriously considering going in there, are you?”

you hesitate for a second too long— he cuts you off with a scoff, stepping forward to grip your shoulders with his rough carpenter’s hands. “there’s no way that flower is even real, y/n. don’t be childish. just some fairytale out of one of your mother’s quack medicine books.”

“it was my grandfather’s.” you defend softly, finally looking up into heeseung’s eyes— the coldness you find in them frighten you.

“he was a quack too.” heeseung retorts, releasing your shoulders to turn and swiftly slam the bakery window shut. your loaves shake from the force. “there’s no magical flower that is going to save your father, especially not in the blackwoods. i love you, y/n, seriously, but you can’t keep believing in fairytales— and you wonder why i worry about you so much! promise me, you won’t go in those woods. please. one step inside and you’ll never come out. i can’t afford to lose you— your family can’t afford to lose you.”

“okay.” you relent, just loud enough for heeseung to hear. “you’re right, i was being ignorant. i won’t go into the woods.”

“say you promise.”

“i… i promise…”

standing at the edge of the forest, your cold clammy fingers wrapped tightly around the strap of your satchel, you’re caught frozen in place. you just can’t seem to get your feet to step forward, your psyche screaming at you to turn back and run home. heeseung’s words circle your thoughts, so all-consuming that you swear you can hear them in the howling wind— you haven’t told a lie since you were very young, and never to heeseung of all people. the guilt nags at you to the point of nausea.

but you had made up your mind long before you had spoken to heeseung earlier that morning. he’s a simple woodworker, he doesn’t understand a single thing about the healing magic that hides in nature… but your grandfather did. he wrote those books himself, a man who would risk his life in the pursuit of knowledge, just to help others. you wanted nothing more than to continue his legacy, save your father and prove to your close-minded little village that he was anything but the insane, rambling idiot that they all viewed him as. before and after his death. you’ve been preparing for weeks, reading as much as you can about the dangers of the blackwoods, packing whatever you possibly could think of to help you on the journey. you might have overpacked, to be honest, your weathered leather satchel hanging heavy on your shoulder. if everything went as you planned, you would be back home before anyone would notice that you were gone.

your breath fogs in front of your face, reminding you of the hearth smoke billowing from your cabin’s chimney. you can still see it, just beyond the hill, its straw hatch roof just visible over the tall grass waving in the wind. you could turn back now, put all your things away and fall asleep in the safety of your bedroom. you could forget about all of this and wake up tomorrow morning as if you had never planned anything at all.

you will yourself to move your feet, frozen in your boots like the frost on the leaves, and you enter the ominous pitch-black dark of the blackwoods.

the tree canopy is so thick that the moonlight barely breaches it, everything swathed in darkness as you walk farther and farther away from home. the flickering candle in your lantern does little to illuminate much except what was right in front of you. you focus on what you can see, the dead fallen leaves and frosty underbrush that crunch loudly underneath your feet as you venture deeper. it’s deafening in your ears, the forest eerily silent all around you, not even the distant call of an owl, the scattering of a chipmunk— you’re certain that any creatures hiding in the trees or in the brush knew of your presence.

including the monsters.

in none of the books you read would they ever describe them more than just that; monsters that use the night as camouflage, that kill livestock in their pens and steal children from their beds. any intruder in their own territory will certainly be made short work out of. you’ve always believed that they were nothing but scary stories to keep children well behaved, a tall tale your mother would use to get you to come inside for bed.

distantly, cutting sharply through the silence, you hear the howling of a wolf. it sounded a safe distance away, yet it still sent you jumping. the sudden movement causes your lantern to extinguish, plummeting you into complete and total darkness. your heart dropping, you curse, placing it on the forest floor against a mossy tree before opening the flap of your satchel and rummaging blindly through the contents for your matchbox. you try to steady your breathing, heart rattling against your ribcage, matchbox just beyond your grasp as you struggle in the dark.

you hear the rustling of leaves just to your right. desperately, you tell yourself that you’re just hearing things.

finally, you wrap your fingers around the familiar shape of your matchbox, pulling it out to fumble with its contents before you pick back up your lantern. with a strike of the match against the rough bark of the tree, you’re illuminated once again, carefully lighting the candle before putting out the match with a shake of your hand. triumphantly, you turn to continue to venture farther into the woods, before stopping cold. your breath knocks out of you all at once, leaving you gasping in the cold air.

farther up on the oak tree, carved crudely into the bark, are three sharp claw marks you’re almost certain weren’t there before.

but they had to have been, because there was simply no way that something could have snuck up so close to you without you noticing. these woods were driving you mad, you feared, still trying to steady your breathing as you turn and step forward.

as you continue deeper into the forest, you swear you hear another pair of footsteps following your own. you stop abruptly to catch them, but you hear nothing— another thing you must be imagining… yet you set onward a little faster than before.

maybe it was that wolf you had heard, you entertained as you examine the dark twisted trees. it sounded rather far away, but you couldn’t be one to discount the creature’s speed. maybe it was just watching you to make sure you weren’t a threat, and it would leave you shortly…

a growl, deep and barely audible, rumbles from between the bushes. you break out into a wild sprint, gasping and panting, running deep into the unknown. the creature chases you with frightening speed, no longer trying to hide its footsteps as it weaves through the forest floor. you had no idea where you were or where you were going, but this beast… this was his home. the hunt was on.

low hanging branches scratch and tear at your skin and clothing as you run, blood running down your face, legs and arms— you couldn’t feel the pain, the adrenaline numbing everything except for the terror in your heart. now you were just easier to track, you agonized, but you couldn’t do anything but keep running, dropping your satchel and lantern to lighten your load as much as you could. alas, you barely ran any faster… you were starting to slow down, exhaustion was starting to creep up on you, your chest aching and desperate for breath, your legs screaming in pain as you stumble and stagger through the labyrinth of trees. you couldn’t see a single thing in front of you, completely lost in the darkness, your arms outstretched to feel around as you ran.

the creature was advancing, it’s footsteps thunderous right behind you, its snarls and growls growing closer and closer. in a desperate attempt to escape, you sharply turn to the right to run in a different direction.

just as you move to step forward, your boot wedges itself underneath an exposed tree root, and you are sent tumbling to the mossy ground. you try to break your fall with your hands, but you react far too late— you slam your head against a jagged rock, blinding white light flashing behind your eyelids before your world goes black.

the last thing you feel is pain, and the last thing you see are two bright, bloody red eyes staring at you through the darkness.

[saioratral]

the same spot that saw it all - two lovers under the stars, an everyday occurrence (gn!reader) warning: spoilers from season 4 note: from my old blog

tired souls find comfort in the walls that surround them. these same souls gather together every day, perched atop the walls to admire the world below.

“even if the night is dark, it’s always painted by the brightest stars, isn’t it? i want a star,” you said, tilting your head toward him.

“you wish for a star? i can get you the moon instead,” eren replied, pointing up at the sky.

they shared a laugh, enjoying silly nights spent in their own kind of magic. it was these evenings that helped them forget the harsh realities they faced. this new home, built together, felt like a sanctuary. comfortable silence settled between them as they stared into the starry expanse.

“your heart is very precious to me,” eren said, turning to look at you more closely.

“my heart?” you echoed, mirroring his gaze.

“it’s the only one that truly understands me, the only one that hears me, and the only one that loves me,” eren said, his eyes softening.

“and yours?” you asked again, curiosity lacing your voice.

“i don't have one, you took it and kept it to bloom with your own kind of love”, he replied, his gaze filled with adoration.

another moment of silence stretched between them. they stared at each other as if it were the last time they would ever meet. for all they knew, they might never be apart again—like the moon and the earth, forever in orbit around one another.

“isn’t life just another test?” eren mused.

“a test we failed,” you joked, a playful smile spreading across your face.

“i’m happy we failed it together. now we can always wander through these cloudy fields,” eren said, bringing his hand closer to yours.

“aren’t you feeling romantic tonight?” you commented, a teasing lilt in your voice.

“i just want you to know: you’re my forever. you deserve more than words,” he said earnestly.

he sighed, his low voice resonating in your mind. pulling you closer, you felt his warmth envelop you, stirring a whirlwind of emotions. his eyes sparkled brightly as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, revealing what he always considered his favourite view.

eren leaned in, and you could feel his breath gently brushing against your lips. it was warm—an invitation to dive deeper, something he longed for. he rested his forehead against yours, allowing the world around you to blur into insignificance.

“may i?” he asked, his voice a soft whisper.

“always,” you smiled, appreciating his gentlemanly demeanour.

eren closed the taunting distance, crashing his lips onto yours with nothing but pure love.the kiss started softly before deepening, as if he wanted to pour every ounce of his feelings into you. you melted in his embrace, intoxicated by the rapid rhythm of your heartbeat.

every brush of his lips sealed a promise—a silent vow to be together. you would always be loved, no matter what timeline you found yourselves in. you were a part of his soul, intertwined in a way that could never be unravelled.

he pulled away with reluctance.the moment felt like a carved monument, perfectly crafted for each other. emerald eyes trying to remember every detail of you, as if you were going to leave him 

“the sun is rising; is it time to go back?” eren whispered.

“of course. we don’t belong here anymore,” you sighed, a hint of reluctance in your voice.

eren stood up, extending his hand for you to take. you accepted his offer, using his grip to help yourself rise. together, they stood, watching as the sun slowly rose, casting a warm glow before disappearing into the horizon.

they had never truly belonged there. standing at the edge of the wall was armin, on duty, his memories of the two of you replaying in his mind like a haunting melody. he reached out, his voice trembling as he called your names, but he received no reply.

“armin... are you okay?” mikasa, standing beside him, looked at her friend with concern.

“i thought i saw [name] and eren,” armin whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

“you really miss them, don’t you?” mikasa asked, resting a comforting hand on his back.

“maybe i should visit their stones again. i keep hallucinating,” armin said, pressing his hand against his forehead in distress.

“at least they are at peace,” mikasa said with a bittersweet smile as they stared at the spot on the wall

the same spot that saw it all

© saioratral 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images used are from pinterest

[meelusinee]

HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH WITH YOU ★ R.B X J.P X READER

in which you and regulus escape to james' house after a failed house party (no thanks given to walaburga in this house <3)

pairing: regulus black x james potter x reader word count: 2.4k warnings: drunk reader at the end, but that's it

author's note: i wanted to get a quick one out there just for funsies, so I thought why not these two? thank's so much for the support to everyone who's liked and commented and followed too!!!

It's you, it's you, it's all for you Everything I do I tell you all the time Heaven is a place on earth with you Tell me all the things you wanna do I heard that you like the bad girls Honey, is that true?

HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH WITH YOU | REGULUS BLACK X JAMES POTTER X  READER

James Potter and Regulus Black were complete opposites.

Regulus Black was a prim and proper man. The second heir to the Black family, the most prestigious Pureblood family within the Sacred 28. An excellent seeker with an eye as sharp as a needle, easily able to pick a Snitch out of thin air. Neat and professional, always tailored to perfection no matter when or where you look at him. Quiet and calculated, able to do anything to someone all in the drop of a hat.

James Potter was a messy and muddy man. The only heir to the Potter household, a home full of love and warmth ever since it came together. An excellent Chaser able to throw Quaffles as easy as blinking his eyes. Cocky yet charming, jumbled in a way that was endearing to many no matter when or where you look at him. Loud in a friendly way, able to befriend anything all in the drop of a hat.

Even still, they had their faults.

That fault was always you.

Regulus found himself growing bolder within your presence, his journal full of scattered and obsessive thoughts about anything to do with you. The way your face shines in the sun, or the way it gets even brighter whenever you smile. He often found himself giving you small flower crowns or trinkets, like a worshipper worshiping its deity.

James, however, found himself growing calmer within your presence. His head was full of nothing whenever he was around you, nothing more than static he wished he always had running through his mind whenever he was out in public. He often found himself giving you more affection than anyone could think possible, like a sloth latching onto a tree branch for his nap.

Even though they were opposites, you brought out the best in both of them. And in return, they saw each other in a way they felt almost no one else could. Every kiss to you meant a kiss to Regulus for James. And every thought about you meant a thought about James to Regulus.

Which led them both to where they were right now, both with you in a way that made their hearts soar.

Regulus and you were both sitting in the backyard of the Potter Manor. Nobody else was home right now, but the both of you needed an escape from the party going on at Regulus’ house.

Which led you both here, listening to the car engine running through the streets and closer to you two. The sun was shining down on the backyard field, pollen and small dandelion fluffs running through the air and itching both of your noses.

Your heads turned as you heard the door of the car close, a small whistling tune ringing in your ears as whoever was driving got closer to you.

James. 

You chuckled softly as he dramatically turned around the corner, both of you watching as he ran up to the both of you much like a golden retriever.

“Reggie!” he smiled, leaning down dramatically and kissing his forehead before moving to yours. “Oh how I’ve missed you, my love. And you too, Y/N. I missed you as well, don’t you forget it.” 

“We won’t, Jamie.” you whispered, kissing his lips. “Do you have any beers?”

“If my dad doesn’t count his stash.” James said mischievously, his hand patting your head before he rushed off to get three cans. “I’ll be back!”

You and Regulus both giggled, his body scooting closer to yours as you watched James run off. Regulus’ hands moved to wrap around your waist, his fingers messing with the belt of your sundress. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

“You’re an utter sap.” you giggled, your head resting on his shoulder.

Your lips rested on his cheek as his hands toyed with your belt, the both of you watching as James ran back out of the house with three beers and three swimsuits. 

“What on Earth is he doing?” Regulus asked incredulously, a small smile on his face.

“We should go to the pool!” he said, running up to you both out of breath. “We could go swimming, or we could maybe play a game. What do you say?”

You and Regulus turned to each other before giggling at James’ ridiculousness, the two of you getting up to walk to the pool.

The sun was shining down on the pool as Regulus and James sank into the water, James’  arms wrapping around Regulus to help him swim.

“It’s not that bad, baby.” he whispered, chuckling softly. “You can still stand even in the deep end!”

“It’s water!” he hissed slightly, the water freezing against his skin. “I could drown. Do you want me dead, James? Drowned and buried?” 

“You’re not going to drown.” James chuckled, his thumbs caressing his waist. “I’ve got you.”

Regulus was about to complain again before his eyes darted over to the entrance of the pool, his eyes widening slightly as he watched you walking towards the pool.

You still had your sundress on, a small tray of fruit in your hands as you put it at the edge of the pool. “Are you two having fun?”

“Massive fun.” James chuckled, placing a kiss on Regulus’ cheek. “Right?”

Regulus nodded, his hand rapidly slapping James’ back as you moved to take your dress off. Your fingers moved to untie the belt holding it up, the zip falling down as it fell off your body. Your hands grabbed your swimsuit as you put it on, a pattern similar to your sundress.

Regulus and James were both staring at you, eyes widened and jaws dropped down to the floor. 

Regulus absolutely loved the way you looked, at least 20 different poem lines or song lyrics running through his mind as he stared at you. Like you were a holy and divine being he worshiped.

And James was looking at you like a ray of sunshine or field of flowers. How could something like you exist in the same world as he did?

You turned around and chuckled softly at the look on their faces, your body moving to slowly wade into the pool. “Hey there, you two.”

“Hi.” Regulus whispered, clearing his throat before saying it again. “Hi, mon amour.” 

“Hi there, baby.” James whispered, letting Regulus stand in the water so they both could wade towards you and cover you in kisses. 

“You’re both the best.” you chuckled softly at them, wrapping yourself around James and leaning in for a kiss before doing the same for Regulus. “I love both of you, do you know that?”

“Yes, we do.” Regulus whispered, kissing your jaw as James’ buried his nose against your hair. “Meethee, are you wearing perfume?”

“Perfume?” you asked, before nodding. “That vanilla one you like. Do you still like it?”

“Oh, mon cœur. The woman that you are.” Regulus whispered softly at that, taking a small scent of the perfume before pulling your lips in for another kiss. “Merlin, I love you so much.” 

“I did it for you,” you whispered, giggling as you felt James kissing your neck. “That tickles!”

“All for us?” he whispered, looking up at you with a gaze so sweet you could melt it like molten candy. “You’re so good to us, you know?”

“Says you.” you giggled.

“What on Earth even happened at his parent’s house in the first place?” James asked you confusedly, looking over at Regulus who had drunken over three beers in twenty minutes. He was standing under the pool shower now, his hair dripping water as he stood in it.

“Lots of yelling and stuff.” you whispered, frowning softly at Regulus’ state. “Plus, Bellatrix was acting like, well, Bellatrix. You know how she is.” 

“Maybe he needs to drink it off?” James whispered, looking at you. Neither of you liked Regulus drinking, though you did know it was a way for him to cope. And until he could escape the hellhole he lived in, it was what worked for him.

“Muggle bar?” you asked him curiously.

“Muggle bar.” James nodded at you.

The both of you got out of the pool and walked over to Regulus, playing with the shower nozzle for a minute or two before drying everyone off.

“Do you want to head to a bar, Regulus?” James whispered, his fingers running through his hair.

“A muggle bar?” Regulus whispered, his eyes shining slightly as he looked up at him.

“Yeah.” James smiled.

Regulus sniffled dramatically, hugging James tight. “You love me so much, don’t you?”

“Both of us do.” you whispered, nails gently scratching at his back. “We love you, ‘kay? We’ll stay sober so you can get drunk, as long as you take a Wiggenweld Potion after we get home.”

“And a Sobering Potion too.” he promised, kissing your forehead lovingly. “Thank you, my love.” 

“Don’t thank us.” you whispered, helping the both of them walk up to James’ room so you could all get ready for the bar.

“Is James going to stay sober?” Regulus whispered softly to you, watching as James looked through his shirt collection. His eyes unabashedly traced the muscles of his back, smiling softly at the sight.

“I think so. He doesn’t like getting drunk, you know how he is.” you chuckled softly. “A big health nut he is, don’t you think?”

“Definitely.” Regulus whispered, turning to you with a curious expression. “Are you going to get drunk with me, pretty girl? I have extra potions if you need.”

“If I ask James, maybe.” you whispered, before pouting softly at Regulus. “As long as I don’t get the vodka you like. It burns.”

“Of course not.” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I’ll get you all the drinks you love.” 

“I’m going to beat you!” yoh slurred, the pool stick in your hand swaying slightly as you angled it to the white ball. “Just you wait, Reggie.”

“You’re going to try, pretty.” he chuckled softly at you. He was holding his alcohol a lot better than you were. “And then you’re going to be sad when you lose, y’know that?”

“Nuh uh.” you said, giggling softly as James walked up behind you and helped you line the stick up.

“That’s cheating!” Regulus chuckled, leaning against the table. 

James chuckled softly as you started drunkenly bumbling, taking over the pool stick and hitting the ball against the others. “Look babes, you’re solid.”

“I’m solid?” you asked, looking up at him as you pulled him into a hug. “I think I’m starry.”

“Starry?” James asked, kissing your forehead as he watched Regulus shoot his shot. He shot about three in a row, impressive for how many drinks he had already. “How are you starry?”

“Because you’re giving me a hug, and it’s starry.” you whispered, giggling as you bounced over to Regulus. “You make me starry too!”

Regulus chuckled softly at your drunkenness, realizing rather quickly that you probably wouldn’t be able to play pool nor darts. He still didn’t mind entertaining you though. “Did you know my name is based off of a star?”

“It is?” you asked, clapping your hands together. “We’re stars together!”

“Yes we are, mon cœur.” he chuckled softly.

“And Jamie has to come with us too.” you whispered softly, looking over at James. “I don’t want him feeling left out, okay?”

“Of course he can come with us.” Regulus chuckled softly to you. “He’s like the sun.”

“The sun!” you giggled softly, before stumbling into Regulus’ arms. “Sorry Reggie.”

“It’s okay, just be careful next time pretty,” he whispered, smirking softly. “You wanna watch me beat James’ ass in pool?”

“Yeah!” you giggled.

James had been smiling the entire night, ever since he saw you two in his backyard.

You were wearing a different dress, one that was black and a bit puffier at the end of it. Regulus was wearing all black attire as well, a black silk shirt with black slacks and Doc Martens. Right now, the both of you were standing by the bar, sticking out like a sore thumb in a crowd of people who looked a little better than average.

You were both absolutely beautiful. And absolutely wasted.

“I think this is going to be your final drink.” he whispered softly, grabbing you by the waist when you sat next to him.

“What?” you whined, looking over at Regulus. “Why is he cutting us off?”

Regulus shrugged, taking a sip of his drink as he looked at James with puppy eyes.

“Nope, not falling for it.” James muttered, dramatically tossing his head to the ceiling. “We’re going to get you two your potions and then we’re going to head home, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“On the contrary to the message you are trying to spread,” Regulus slurred out, hiccuping at the end. “I believe we should be able to consume alcoholic beverages however long we want.”

“And I believe that I don’t want you sick tomorrow.” James said, looking down at Regulus. “Don’t make me do it.”

“You won’t!” you gasped audibly.

“I would.” he said sternly, putting as serious of an expression he could on. “Don’t test me.”

“No, no!” Regulus said. “We’ll go.”

“Good.” James said, chuckling softly as the both of you stumbled to put your glasses back at the bar. Oh how he loved you two.

“Okay, who’s in bed first?” James asked, looking at both you and Regulus in matching pajamas.

“I believe that it’s your turn for mutual cuddles.” you mumbled sleepily, patting the bed down for James to get in. “Go on Jamie.”

“Oh,” James nodded, looking down at the bed before smiling. “My turn it is.”

“Your turn it is.” Regulus hummed, crawling in and wrapping his arms around James. You were much more uncivilized, wrapping your entire being around him contently. 

The lights turned of magically as you all got comfortable in the bed, small sighs escaping your mouths as your eyes closed. Regulus’ grip tightened ever so slightly, his hand grasping yours in his sleep. Your body stayed wrapped around James, though your calf somewhat covered Regulus’ leg.

And James was content laying in the middle and spread like a starfish, smiling as he listened to the both of your breathing gently. James wouldn’t have this any other way. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH POST OF THE CENTURY (really its not) i'm waiting for my amazing poll votes to come through, so i'm currently just posting up whatever on earth feels like posting before i head out for the day. thank you guys so much for the support it geniunely means so much!!!

AS ALWAYS please like and comment and reblog and all of that snazzy snaz snaz, and i hope you have an excellent day!

[fatuismooches]

My personal headcanon is that Dottores main lab in sneznyaha is underneath his mansion (that the fandom all collectively agrees each harbinger was given lol) so walking into his mansion it’s completely deserted. No lights, no decor, not much furniture, just …empty. Further into the mansion there would be a secret hidden entrance that leads down into the massive laboratory that is buzzing with activity.

After waking up fragile reader probably wouldn’t even know there’s a whole mansion above them because dottore is very protective and he hasn’t installed security up there. Maybe once they learn about that a segment will take them up to see it . I imagine reader would like the mansion portion of their lovers property. They can sit by the windows and watch the snowfall without being scolded for being in weather too harsh for them. Dottore doesn’t like them up there alone because of the lack of security.

Maybe once they’re feeling better they can make use of the grand and untouched kitchen and whip up their lovers some treats because we all agree he has a sweet tooth <3

Dottore had never needed or cared for a fancy way of life. His lab was suited for his desires (always engrossed in his research) and was equipped to handle all of his needs (and yours too, of course, he had made sure of every little detail before you woke up.) The only reason he remembers the existence of the upper floors is because he and the segments obviously need to exit from there. Honestly, he could do without it... new agents sometimes get lost trying to find the entrance to the lab. (The mansion was given to him with expensive furniture too, but over time the segments eventually started selling it for a bit of extra funds. No one questions the bareness.)

You never really questioned the layout of the lab because well. Dottore + lab just makes sense. You don't find out about the whole mansion aspect until you hear a poor agent talking about how dusty it is up there. Of course, your interest is immediately piqued while you're also impressed the entrance upstairs is so well hidden despite your thorough analysis of the lab... hmph.

Dottore, on the other hand, is a bit annoyed at the babbling of his agents, but he knew that this would happen eventually. He just wished it was at... a later date. Preferably farther into the future. Preferably when he had an actual chair up there and the copious amount of dust wouldn't make you flare up. That was just preferable of course. Now with your pleading eyes and constant clinging to his arm quick measures were to be taken.

He still doesn't quite understand why you'd want to be up there when the lab has everything and more, but it makes you content... so it's fine. Something that Dottore had learned was that he doesn't need to analyze and pick apart every part of your brain all the time but rather just go along with what makes you comfortable. (Which could be a challenge sometimes, considering the kind of man he was.)

If the mansion had a balcony there would be many cute dates there... a good way of being outside while being able to quickly warm up! You two would watch the view together and some birds would visit you!

(I always imagine Reader shares the big lab kitchen with the Fatui agents, and although Dottore makes them clear out while you use it, sometimes they pop in accidentally and just. Watch you make sweets for *the* Il Dottore. With a cute lil 'remember to take breaks!!' note to the side. Real crazy stuff goes on in his lab... So yes, you would definitely appreciate that kitchen. Dottore watches from the side because you banned him since he kept stealing bites before the sweet was even finished.)

[lieslab]

Broken hearts club

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Bang Chan X gn reader

Summary: Unexpectedly, you find yourself face-to-face with the leader of a gang, but you'd never imagine how your relationship would end.

Genre: Angst with no happy ending

Word Count: 3.8K

Trigger warning: Mentions of homelessness and insecurities/struggles surrounding it, fear of love, gun violence, casual crime, and murder.

A/N: I'm going to tell you now that if you struggle with feeling unlovable, you might want to skip this one. I have big feelings and this was like an hour long vent write for me. Please remember that it's fiction and this Chan does not exist (thank fuck)

_ _ _

It was like the home you never had. Two years ago, Bang Chan found you filthy and half-dazed in an alleyway. You were just trying to survive on the streets. Life isn’t kind to the homeless. When your dignity is stripped as you dive into dumpsters for food, you start to feel less like a human and more like a testing specimen. 

The world kept spinning, families enjoyed their time indoors, but not you. You were left out in the cold like an abandoned dog. Without a house, without a home, without a family, and without love. The world conspired against you, it always had, and you were certain it’d be this way until the end of time. 

Your clothes hadn’t been washed in days. You were one quarter short from being able to wash your clothes at the laundromat. You had enough to dry them, but washing them cost a whole quarter more; just another cruel way that the world laughed at you. The stench that radiated off you was a mixture between sour milk and sweaty socks. 

You used to have an extra pair of socks to warm your hands. They were stolen by another homeless person when your back was turned. You thought the two of you were friends, but you forgot that when people are where you are, it’s survival of the fittest. Not everyone is genuine when you hit rock bottom. Humans will do what they can to survive. 

You pulled the socks from your feet and used them to warm your hands. They hadn’t been washed and they were soaked in your old sweat and skin cells, but desperate times called for desperate measures. When you kicked off your shoes for a moment of rest, the scent of decay filled the air. 

On that night, your body was burning up at the slightest touch. The Texas heat had nothing compared to what your body was going through. The weather was chillier, your cheeks were red from bitter winds, your nose was frozen to the touch, but your body was on fire. 

A fever engulfed you and there was nothing you could do besides ride it out. Pharmacies didn’t care if you were homeless. Corporate greed had no compassion for the starving and the crippled. If you couldn’t afford to wash your clothes, you certainly couldn’t afford a bottle of cheap over-the-counter medicine. 

You didn’t mean to stumble into Chan that night. You were certain you were going to die. Actually, you craved the sweet release of death. Without deodorant, you could smell yourself. Your hair had been saturated with grease for two days. 

Every part of you felt filthy and worn. You felt disgusting and awful. You knew you needed to shower, but you were so delirious, you couldn’t even distinguish left from right. The gym was on the opposite side of town, your head was heavy, and your legs were on fire. Trying to make it would be a certain death wish. So, you stumbled forward instead. 

Chan was supposed to be keeping an eye out for some guy he had been watching. His gang was well-known around town. They ran the streets and were on top of everything. Cops stayed silent about their crimes. Chan’s group was a bunch of vigilantes, they played both sides. 

As long as the cops could run traffic stops and do the most of their jobs without concern, Chan and his heathens were let off the hook. All it took was one call and they’d be off into the dead of night again; disappearing into the sound of faint sirens, barking dogs, and the orange warmth beneath streetlights. 

You didn’t have a choice when you stumbled into Chan. It was merely an accident, but his reflexes were fast. His gun swung and before you knew it, you were pistol whipped. The cold metal felt glorious for a moment and then you free fell. Unforgiving concrete, blurred vision, and the incriminating stare of a stranger above. God’s abandonment tasted like salted sweat and iron. 

Blood oozed from the gash in your forehead. Chan didn’t have time to ask your name or gather any identifying details. Your eyes rolled back into your head and that was that. Sounds stopped, the earth kept spinning, and your soul was silenced. 

You expected the devil to greet you when you woke up, instead you were met by a man wearing a pleather jacket. Black eyeliner rimmed beneath his eyes and an eyebrow piercing sat above his left eyebrow. A stern gaze, messy black hair, and a death sentence. 

You were sure this was the grim reaper. He looked like heaven and hell combined. Along his cheek, a scar had healed, but the spot where stitches stretched skin together hadn’t. If you narrowed your eyes, you could still make out the exact spot where each stitch stretched honey-soaked skin together. 

Your fear tapered out the moment he handed a water bottle in your direction. The plastic sides dripped with condensation. It cooled your overheating body the moment you took it. Maybe this wasn’t your enemy, but your long-lost savior instead. 

He was too serious. Too serious all the time and you hated him for it. You grew to love him and his seven other goons. He was good at what he did. Always directing, always pushing and pulling, always carrying the gang. Dealing with enemy antics while fighting the stupidity and occasional incognitiveness forged in his own group. 

They weren’t perfect, they had their issues, but they had Chan. They had a leader and a fighter. A whirlwind of chaos, power, and strict determination. They had a lot of things as a group, but they didn’t have you. You fit right in once your fever broke. 

Your quick banter, sarcasm, and wit gave them a reality check. Even the best witted ones were out-smarted by you. After a shower, some new clothes, and a full meal, you felt like a person again. Chan and his crew became your family, but families don’t always stay together. 

~ ~ 

“What the hell is this?” A manila folder flung your way. It landed on the table in front of you with a harsh thud. You had been studying the layout of a mansion for the next mission when you felt the first fissure. 

Chan’s words pulled you from your planning and you glanced up at him. “What is this?” You pushed open the folder to find a thick stack of papers. 

“That’s what I want you to tell me.” 

You didn’t like the accusatory tone in his voice. Laced with venom, he was a copperhead waiting to strike. Every hair on the back of your neck stood up. Something was wrong, but you couldn’t place it just yet. 

Paper after paper you flipped through. Photocopies of text messages, emails from your email address, and photos of security camera footage of you with different people. They weren't just anyone, they were rival gang members. Rival gang members were strictly off limits. Any act of breaching Chan’s gang’s trust was an act of treason. If you wanted to sign your own death sentence, it was the perfect way to go. 

“I’m only going to ask you one more time.” His arms folded across his chest. “What the hell are these?” 

“Photocopies and security camera footage.” 

His nostrils flared and his eyes rolled. He stepped forward and tipped over you. The scent of some unknown spicy cologne with hints of vanilla and amber hit you. His hand smacked the wooden table, beneath it was a photo of you in a hoodie. A rival member stood across the way staring at you. He was identified by the obvious dark tattoo on his forearm. 

“You know there’s a rat.” 

Of course, you did. Someone had been leaking plans to someone. Information oozed out and missions were compromised. Compromised missions meant distrust and disorganization. How easy it was for a gang to slip up and have a member go missing, get injured, or be killed. 

It hurt like hell, his words, the way he said them with no mercy. That fever of yours was two years ago. Two years of learning his ways and what made him tick. The way he touched his ear when nervous. The constant bouncing of his leg as he spoke about new missions; the proof that he was eager to get started. You swore you knew everything about him, but he couldn’t say the same about you. 

He hesitated bringing you in. His gang was perfect, but he remembered how cruel the world could be. He saw the defeat in your eyes. The way you strolled along the side of abandoned factories and drug yourself along, trying to get just another step. He pitied you back then and clearly, it was all just a stupid mistake. 

“I know what this looks like, but I swear to God, this isn’t what it seems. This-” You picked up a photo of you and a different rival gang member. “This isn’t me. I mean, it is, but it’s not. You really think I’d rat you out?” 

“Well, it’s someone!” He snapped angrily. “It’s someone and look at this shit!” His arms waved in distress. “It’s clearly you!” 

“They have to be fake. I’d know if I was a rat. Listen,” you pushed yourself from the stool you sat upon, “I’ll prove it. These emails and texts, they can be disproven. Stay here and I’ll be right back.” 

You rushed out of the room before he could stop you. You had holed yourself in the small study. You always did that when you were studying for a mission. It was quiet and you liked to sink into that oversized leather chair beneath the books. 

The scent of weathered paper and worn leather. You sat there so much, the leather creased from where it had been worn. The secrets of the shelves watched over you. The lamp on the window beside you had been thrifted before you were a member. Despite that, you were the one who always used it the most. 

You came back with your laptop and your phone. You placed them on the oak desk and unlocked them. Your hands gestured to the objects. “Go ahead and look at them, you won’t find anything.” 

He stared at you, but you were adamant. “Come on,” you waved him closer. “Go ahead and look.” 

With a sigh, he dropped himself on the stool you had been sitting on. Blueprints were meticulous and you liked to keep your stuff straight. When you weren’t in that leather chair, you were on this stool studying things out and trying to make puzzle pieces fit together. 

Tension kept brewing and your stomach churned. You weren’t the rat, you knew that, but Chan didn’t. You’d never have it in you to turn your back on this group. This was the family you never had. The love you always craved, it had been found here. Within the past two years, you felt enough love to last a lifetime. 

You flipped through the papers. The text messages were fake and someone was good at impersonating you. From the text messages to the emojis, it was all spot on. The more you dove into the photos, the more you doubted yourself. There weren't any mistakes anywhere. Even the photos of you with rival members were photoshopped together seamlessly. Whoever did this, they were good. Better than good, they were damn great. 

The sound of your laptop shutting pulled your head up. Your eyes met Chan’s with desperation, but his dark eyes gave away nothing. He still looked the way he did two years ago, so broadening and mysterious. 

The only difference? You now knew the man behind the persona. You knew how he loved without him saying it. It was the way he passed food to you first and let you eat before him. It was hidden in the reminders he gave the members to buckle their seatbelts. It was found in the way he reassuringly checked for fevers, when members were sick, by gently using the back of his hand; the same exact way he checked yours two years ago. 

“Did you forget that text messages and emails can easily be erased?” 

“But why would I rat you out? The group? Why would I go against everything I love?” 

He scoffed and shook his head. You stepped closer to him. “Please, you have to believe me! Chan, I don’t even know these people!” 

“How did they get your email?” 

“I-I-” You stuttered trying to find the words. “I don’t know!” 

“Because you’re the rat. You gave out your email and yo-” 

“Stop saying that! I know how bad this looks, okay? I understand it!” You desperately flipped through the papers trying to find one small mistake to prove your innocence. “You have to believe that this isn’t me. Please, Chan, please.” 

“How am I supposed to do that?” 

“Because you trust me.” 

“I used to trust you.”

It was so much worse than the betrayal of the homeless lady you befriended. You asked her to watch your stuff and she took off with your socks. You had been working up a friendship for two weeks and you disappeared into a store to use the restroom. When you came back she was gone. 

You only knew her for two weeks, but how different two weeks was from two years. Two years of building up your own grit and determination. Building up a foundation of a body, fighting for the muscle you lost when starving on the streets, gaining back your dignity when the world ripped it away. 

“Don’t say that,” your voice cracked. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back your tears. “You do, you trust me. You trust me because I’m one of your members.” 

His gaze went back to the papers strewn along the desk behind you. He’d never show you how he truly felt. Deep down, he was devastated. He wanted to scream and grip you. He wanted to tug you into his grasp. He wanted to show you the love and admiration that he had neglected giving you these past two years, but instead he stood still, the evidence was too damning. 

“Prove to me you’re innocent,” he finally uttered. His heart fluttered with hope. A silent prayer was recounted from years ago. The memories of pews and biblical artifacts were dusty, but it was there. A basic prayer from Sunday School, one that was easy enough to remember, a five year old could quote it. 

“I don’t know how. I-I showed you my electronics, those are the only ones I own. I don’t know what more you could possibly want from me. You can search my room. You can do anything, just please, please, please believe me.” 

You didn’t want to admit it, but this was no longer a matter of Chan’s integrity and the gang’s security. This was a matter of life and death. You were no longer fighting for your innocence, you were fighting sudden death. 

He made the rules so crystal clear two years ago. A major fuck up and you were gone. Something so quick and easy, a bullet to the forehead. Brains pulverized, neurons ripped apart, the soul slipped away so easily. A single gunshot stood between traitors; a one way ticket from this life into the next. 

“Prove it,” he tried again. He wanted you to beg. To get down on your knees and weep. To repent for your sins and admit it all. He would find a way to forgive you, no matter how much the truth hurt, but you didn’t. 

You couldn’t. How could you? How could you possibly explain that none of this was real? The screenshots, the security footage, someone clearly wanted you gone. You didn’t understand why Chan believed it so easily, maybe he was the one who wanted you gone. Why wasn’t he fighting for you?

“Chan?” You finally whispered. The reality of your situation was settling in. He never responded, but you spoke anyway. “Can you just…can you tell the guys that I love them?” 

Betrayal clamped down. It was a confession in his eyes. The sting of a bee, the teeth of a cobra, a shot of gin mixed with rejection. After everything you had been through with the gang, he didn’t expect it to feel like this. 

Those eyes used to hold warmth now and then. In the sunlight, they lit up like pools of chocolate. You saw those eyes at bonfires during the summer. It was the oozing chocolate between roasted marshmallows and graham crackers. You saw them in the dirt smeared along your jeans after you ducked, dived, and dodged your way through each dangerous mission. 

It was a rarity, but it was special, your own personal Halley’s Comet. It was replaced with resentment and bitterness now. An anger had been uncapped and no matter what you professed and claimed, it couldn’t stop it. 

“That’s all you have to say after everything we’ve been through?” His hand reached back behind his back. You knew what was coming. “You wanna die? I’ll fucking kill you myself!” 

That black pistol was always loaded. His reflexes had been quick since you knew him. It was the same pistol that knocked you out two years back. You never had a chance to dive then and you never had a chance now. 

“Fuck you and fuck your love! You’re nothing, but a liar and a goddamn traitor and yet, you want me to lie to them? To tell them you loved them after you put them in danger? You put us all in danger!” 

“I-” You couldn’t get the words out. They lodged in your throat and you didn’t know how to force them out. You didn’t want it to end up like this.

“Fuck you, your love, and everything about you! Die knowing that no one will ever fucking love you and you’re dead to me.” 

Bang! 

The memories of the past two years flashed before your eyes. The fear building up in your gut on each harrowing mission you went on. The board games you played around the dining room table. They used to end with someone getting mad and throwing the board. You all collapsed in a heap of laughter at the pettiest members. It changed every time. 

You used to find comfort within Chan. Every time you struggled, you’d find him and explain your problems. He wouldn’t offer hugs or sympathy, but he leant a listening ear. He wouldn’t pity you, he’d just listen. Sometimes you never wanted advice, you just wanted proof that you weren’t alone, a gentle and familiar reminder that you were loved. 

Your body fell through the air and your brain stopped, but not in the way you wanted it to. Chan’s back turned to you, you didn’t realize it, you couldn’t. Not when you were like this. 

The carpet was as hard and unforgiving as the pavement was two years ago. Warmth soaked your chest and you could still see. You tried to breathe, but there was no air left to take. In his fit of anger, Chan didn’t shoot you in the head, but he hit your heart instead. 

The bullet lined directly with the center of your heart and his bullets never missed their target. One more cruel reminder from the world that you were unlovable. People didn’t throw pity when you were surviving on the street, instead, it was accusing glares, as if you were nothing, but a pesky vermin. 

It was your biggest insecurity, feeling unloved. How could you after everything that happened in your life? No family and no friends. The only family you had was this gang and now it was all unraveling and slipping through your fingers. It was falling apart and it left you bleeding on the floor. 

A gasp mixed with a squeak. Chan’s eyes squeezed shut. His fingers were still wrapped around the gun. He didn’t dare turn around to face you and admit what he did. He couldn’t. Deep down, he loved you. You flickered a spark that he thought died out years ago.

He was never one for being a coward, but something changed. You startled him and woke up something that was supposed to lay dead. The feelings for you weren’t supposed to wither and squirm this much. Rat or not, maybe it was just easier to accuse you of something and kill you before a flicker grew into a roaring flame. 

Letting you in was a mistake. Building up a friendship, striking up feelings of something more, it was a pile of kindle that was always meant to burn. He’d always be a monster and you were just a person. Too innocent, too vulnerable, too sweet for someone with his past. 

Your vision clouded as a tear slipped down your cheek. The person you loved most put you here, but you still couldn’t hate him. In fact, maybe you were grateful deep down. You were a bird with a broken wing and never meant to fly. It was better that an animal got to you rather than wither and rot away in the elements. 

The door to the study burst opened. One of the guys rushed inside. You heard him speak, but you couldn’t distinguish who it was. Blood was seeping out so quick and you were growing weaker. 

“What the hell did you do?” 

“What the fuck?” 

“Someone help them!” 

Footsteps rushed towards you. Warm hands touched your chest, but it was too late. Your limbs were weak. They never got to see the last bits of light fade from your eyes. They fluttered shut just before the door burst open. 

“Wake up! Just wake up! Please” 

“Call the doctor!” 

“What did you do? What did you do? What did you do?” 

Someone sobbed. Salted tears mixed with the blood on your shirt. Desperate fingers pushed down to stop the bleeding, but it’d never be enough. Love surrounded you, but you didn’t get to see it for the last time, before your heart stopped. 

Across the way, Chan’s bottom lip quivered. He dropped the gun and it landed with a clatter. Despite the sob that fell from the leader’s chest, they couldn’t find it within themselves to approach him. He collapsed in defeat and curled his hands around his head. The one person he truly loved and cherished, he took them out himself. Your blood on his hands would never be washed away. He thought it’d be easy to take you out, but now, his members would never look at him the same way. 

Eight hearts around the room beating and the final one still bleeding.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules