#cowboy flip au

[pizzagame4000]

we all know human vigilante… but what about… slightly human vigilante

[omgniffler123]

takes one to know one // you’re a cowboy like me

[halfdent]

I may as well now make separate verse section for animated universe Batman I mean I have BTAS of course and I'd love to include The Long Halloween Film mayhaps as separate from my comic verse for it and then by extension two game verses being Telltale and Arkham too. Also quite literally this was an AU where in Harvey's case everything's the same aside from he's a massive asshole , which is why I would be particular as fuck about Caped Crusader as a verse but I enjoyed it so it's here !

[rafecameronssl4t]

All yours || NFL!Rafe Cameron x DCC!reader

Summary: You wearing Rafe’s initials on your necklace during a Cowboy’s game and people speculating 🤭

Warnings: swearing, other than nothing rlly??

Word count: 1,028

A/n: IM SO GLAD YOU GUYS LOVED THUNDERSTRUCK AS MUCH I DID 😆😆😆 If you’ve watched the dcc documentary, who was ur fav??? ALSO send me more nfl!rafe x dcc!reader requests cuz I’m itching to do more even tho I have a few to finish in my drafts lol

MASTERLIST (nfl!rafe x dcc!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“Isn’t this a bit risky?” you manage to say in between heated kisses, feeling his hands grip the flesh of your thigh wrapped around his hip. Rafe’s smirk is palpable against your neck. “That’s kinda the whole point, babe,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your skin, making you shiver as your own lips curl into a smile. Your eyes flicker to the clock on the wall, and reality hits you.

“Fuck, we gotta go. I can’t be late, and neither can you,” you say hurriedly, pushing yourself off from Rafe. You rush to the mirror, frantically fixing your hair and touching up your makeup. Rafe’s presence is suddenly behind you, his hands wrapping around your waist as his face nestles into your shoulder, inhaling the addictive scent of your perfume.

“You’re so pretty, y’know that right?” he says softly, his breath warm against your skin. You feel your cheeks heat up at his words. “Like, so so pretty. No wonder they put you front and center. You catch everyone’s attention,” he continues, his arm draped over your shoulder as he gazes at your reflection in the mirror. Both of you, side by side, in your uniforms. You had to admit, the two of you looked hot together.

“Is that why you gave me this necklace? So people know?” you chuckle, your fingers toying with the necklace adorned with his initials. “Mhm, maybe,” he smirks, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Oh, they’ll see it for sure. We’re not supposed to wear any jewelry, so it’ll stick out like a sore thumb,” you chuckle as Rafe leans down to press a kiss on your lips. “Good. I want all those guys crushing on you to know you’re mine,” he says against your lips, and you can’t help but smile. “All yours,” you reply before smashing your lips back onto his, losing yourself in the moment one last time.

~

As Thunderstruck reverberated around AT&T Stadium, the energy of the crowd was electric. Rafe, standing on the sidelines, couldn’t help but keep his eyes trained on the big screen, his gaze unwavering. Throughout the entire performance, he caught glimpses of your necklace multiple times, glinting under the bright stadium lights. If he saw it, that meant everyone else could too.

You moved with the grace and precision of a seasoned performer, every step and twirl executed flawlessly. The crowd’s roar grew louder as you and the other cheerleaders took center stage, but Rafe’s focus was solely on you. The way you danced had him utterly captivated; each sway of your hips, each leap, and every spin had his heart pounding harder than any game.

And then, the moment that nearly made him lose it—you threw your head back (pls tell me u guys know what move of the dance I’m talking abt if u saw the documentary😭 like the part where they hit their Pom Poms on the ground and then do the hair flip?), your eyes locking with the camera, giving a sultry, confident gaze. The big screen captured the perfect shot of you, your radiant smile and the necklace with Rafe’s initials prominently displayed on your chest. It was a declaration, a bold statement that you were his.

Rafe’s breath hitched as he felt a rush of pride and desire flood through him. His initials on your necklace weren’t just an accessory; they were a symbol of his claim, a visible marker for everyone to see. The sight of it sent a jolt of possessive excitement through him, making his blood run hot.

As the music reached its crescendo, you finished the routine with a flourish, and the crowd erupted in applause. Rafe’s teammates nudged him, laughing and making comments about his obvious distraction, but he didn’t care. His eyes remained locked on you, taking in every detail, every shimmer of the necklace that told everyone you were his.

When the performance ended, and you made your way off the field, Rafe couldn’t wait for the game to be over. The anticipation of seeing you, holding you, and showing you just how much he appreciated you was almost too much to bear.

~

“Really, kiddo?” Your dad, the Dallas Cowboys coach, gives you a disapproving nod, his presence commanding even in casual moments as he leans against your car. “What?” you respond innocently, unlocking the car and tossing your bag into the backseat, trying to avoid his penetrating gaze.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he says, raising an eyebrow at you. You meet his gaze, trying to keep your expression neutral, but you know exactly where this conversation is heading.

You’ve been on the team long enough to know the uniform policies. Hell, I’m not even on the cheerleading squad, and I know you aren’t supposed to wear any jewelry with your uniform,” your dad continues, his voice a mix of frustration and concern. He crosses his arms over his chest, his stance was something you’d usually see when he’s lecturing his team, not his daughter.

You let out a sigh, mirroring his stance as you cross your arms too. “It’s not that big of a deal, Dad. It’s just a necklace.” “Just a necklace?” he repeats, incredulous. “Kiddo, you know the rules are there for a reason. It’s about professionalism and safety. What if it gets caught on something?”

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling a mix of irritation and guilt. “Shouldn’t Kelli be telling me this? Not you?” Your dad chuckles, a rare moment of humor breaking through his stern demeanor. “You’d be glad it’s me talking to you and not her. You know how strict she can be about the rules.”

You roll your eyes, but you know he’s right. Kelli had a reputation for being strict but fair, and you didn’t want to risk your place on the team. “Okay, fine. I get it,” you concede, your voice softening as the weight of his words sinks in.

~

Later that night, you sink into the comfort of your bed, the events of the day replaying in your mind. You reach for your phone on the nightstand, deciding to unwind by catching up on messages and social media. A few notifications catch your eye—messages from your close friends on the team.

Curious, you open the first message, which contains a Twitter link. Your fingers tap the screen, and the app loads quickly. Your eyes widen slightly as you see your name and Rafe’s name trending all over social media.

You click on another link, leading to a video clip from the game earlier. The footage shows you performing, the camera zooming in just as you throw your head back and lock eyes with the lens, your necklace with Rafe’s initials gleaming under the stadium lights.

The next day, Kelli was furious, to say the least. Her expression was a mixture of disappointment and frustration as she called you into her office. “Y/n, this is unacceptable,” she said sternly. “You know the rules, and you deliberately broke them.”

“This is your official warning,” she continued, her tone unyielding. “The PR team had to work overtime to manage the situation. They even went as far as photoshopping the necklace out of the official pictures taken of you.”

You spent the rest of the day practicing with renewed determination, vowing to stay focused and follow the rules. During a break, you checked your phone and saw more messages from friends and fans. Despite the reprimand from Kelli, the support from your friends and the fans’ enthusiasm about your relationship with Rafe was heartwarming.

“Hey,” you jump slightly, feeling a pair of hands wrap around your waist. “Jesus, Rafe. Don’t come up behind me like that!” you chuckle, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck as he presses kisses against your jaw.

“Couldn’t help myself,” Rafe murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Seriously, guys?” You pull away quickly as Kelcey walks into the room, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Sorry,” you awkwardly chuckle, your cheeks flushing as Kelcey shakes her head, brushing it off with a smile.

“It’s fine. Just didn’t expect to walk into a lovefest,” Kelcey teases. “Okay, go away now,” you jokingly shoo Rafe out of the room, but before he leaves, he presses a quick kiss on your lips, making you let out a little giggle.

As Rafe exits, Kelcey crosses her arms, a playful smile on her face. “You guys are cute, and apparently the whole internet thinks so too,” she says with a wink. You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, I saw. It’s a bit overwhelming, honestly.” Kelcey laughs. “Overwhelming? Try trending. You two are practically the new royal couple of Dallas.” You laugh, shaking your head.

“It’s wild. I never expected this much attention.” Kelcey nods, her expression softening. “Just enjoy it. It’s not every day you get to be part of a fairytale romance that everyone’s rooting for. Plus, it’s clear Rafe’s crazy about you.” You smile, warmth spreading through your chest. “Yeah, he is. And I’m crazy about him too.”

[bitterrfruit]

Wild Cherries

John Price x f!Reader tags/cw: modern western AU, cowboys, mean!John Price, chasing, spanking, light sadomasochism, age gap (ish), brat taming, dubcon if you squint, smut wc: 4.9k 18+ mdni

Jonathan Price owns the ranch that neighbours your family's. You've got a bad habit of hopping the fence between them, snooping and stealing, leaving little traces of your misbehaviour behind. What happens when you poke the bear?

✼ Read the full chapter on Ao3 ✼

Jonathan was almost as tall, near as wide as the doorframe he stood in. He glanced above you, expecting someone taller, before he craned his head downward to look at you, and you felt your heart flip behind your sternum.

“Well,” he huffed, voice hoarse from a day’s worth of yelling. His stare narrowed as he soaked you in, crow’s-feet creased; piercing eyes raked from your head to your feet, painfully slowly, and back up again. “Ain’t you a nice surprise.” 

His cocksure voice was rumbling and deep, it sunk under your skin and made you turn pink. You had only ever heard him shouting, heard his roars in the distance when he chastised either you or his ranchmen. Now he uttered his words so low that you could hear the gravel in his throat, it made you want to press your ear to his padded chest and feel the vibrations of his sonorous voice directly from its origin. 

You took the same time to inspect him - realising you hadn’t ever seen him up this close, close enough to smell him. He smelt of hard work and cigar smoke, salt and musk, the warmth of his mammoth body reached out and touched you as if the evening air was suddenly cold. His smoky blue t-shirt had stains of sweat between his broad pectorals and down from his neck, the cotton coated in dust - he had only just turned in from a long day of wrangling, hadn’t yet had the chance to shower or to change. 

He lifted a bronzed and furry arm to lean his elbow against the jamb of the door, so thick with well-earned muscle they threatened to tear the sleeves of his shirt with the slightest flex. You wondered if he picked up his cows with his bare arms, carried them around like they weighed no more than bales of hay. 

His cheeks were ruddy with sunburn and vigour, his firm jaw coated by a dark and barely kempt beard, specked with silvers. His expression was stern, though a glimmer of interest in his steel-blue eyes belied his severity. Heavy lids hung low by virtue of looking down at you, his lips in an analytical curl under the thick moustache that grew under his nose. 

You blinked up at him, and opened your lips to speak - but a gruff snicker from him sucked the air from your lungs before you could utter a word to greet him. 

“Brought me a gift?” He asked richly, glare stuck on you and not the sack of ruby-red jam you hung from your fingers. 

Finding yourself, you gave him a pursed smile. “Lawrence made me come and say hi.” 

“Made you, did he?” He snorted, oozing a knowing arrogance. 

“Yep,” you said, lifting the bag to present it to him. “Eve cooked up some jam.” 

You saw his temples bulge as his jaw clenched tightly, expression sinking into what looked to you like twisted disappointment. 

“Nice o’ you,” he grunted disinterestedly, paying no mind to your olive branch. After a troubled sigh, he asked; “Where’ve you been, lil’ miss Honeybee?” 

The use of your nickname made gooseflesh shiver down your spine. He could only have heard that from your siblings or their ranchmen - how often had they spoken to him? Discussed you while you weren’t there to hear it? Last you thought, they never interacted at all. Now, he seemed to mock you with it. 

But he uttered it so casually, with such a coating of sugar, that it rinsed you like praise. 

“Just working,” you replied flatly, shuffling on your feet, vaguely embarrassed to admit you had abandoned the job already. “In the city.” 

“Mh,” he hummed, giving you a placid nod. “Back for good?”

You bit back the smirk that coaxed your lips. “Maybe.” 

“I’ll have to build a taller fence, then, won’t I?” 

Unable to discern if there was any humour in the forcefulness of his tone, your tongue curled behind your teeth as you tried to find a response that wouldn’t incriminate you. 

And you failed. “I’m a good climber.” 

He didn’t quite smile, you saw his chest rise and fall with a hounded breath. 

“I bet you are.” 

an: hey y'all, as some may recognise, this is the extendo version of my old drabble 'cowboy price'. Not yet the part 3 that many of you were asking for (i'm sorry), but there will be many more parts to come, and I hope they will sate our collective hunger for horny western Price!!

Above is only a snippet, the rest is on my Ao3. love youuuu <3

[honeyedmiller]

Traditions | Joel Miller

pairing: husband!joel x wife!reader

rating: explicit. 18+ only.

warnings: husband!joel, joel is handsy af in this, no outbreak!joel, au where joel doesn’t have kids, mentions of christmas, tooth-rotting fluff bc joel and reader are just so in love, smut (body worship, unprotected piv, m oral receiving, riding, reader praises the fuck out of joel bc he deserves it, breeding kink), brief talk of having kids, no use of y/n.

a/n: sorry this was kinda poorly written. this wasn't revised, so apologies for any mistakes. hope you enjoy ~

word count: 4k

synopsis: you and joel make holiday traditions in your new home.

divider by the incredibly talented @saradika 🤎

The early December sun bled through the cream curtains of your bedroom, stirring you awake. You softly groaned at the world’s way of waking you up, pleading just five more minutes in your thoughts. Your eyes slowly peeled open as you took a deep breath, stretching your limbs to try and wake your tired body up. A couple of bones popped in the process, loosening up your post-sleep stiffness. 

An arm weighed heavy across your waist, and you turned your head to find your husband snoring lightly, still deep in his slumber. You smile softly as your eyes run over his features. He looked so peaceful while he slept, not a worry in the world etched within the lines of his face. 

You turned on your side so you were facing him, bringing your hand up to softly trace the features on his face. The alarm clock on his nightstand that you could barely see over his broad shoulders read 8:20. Normally, you two loved to sleep in at least one day during the weekend. You wish you could stay in this blissful little cocoon of warmth and sleepiness and content, all while being held by your husband. 

But, to your misfortune (and truthfully, to Joel’s too), you had errands you needed to run today–one of which included getting Christmas decorations for your house. You and Joel had moved into this new house during the summertime, so you needed to re-up on decorations as Christmas was nearing the corner. 

“Joel, honey, it’s time to wake up.” Your voice was soft, not wanting to startle him awake. His eyebrows quickly twitched as they threaded together. He groaned softly, refusing to open his eyes. 

“What time is it?” He mumbles, turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand that now rested on his cheek. 

“Almost eight thirty, baby. We have to get up. We have errands to run today.” You reminded him, and he groaned again as he shook his head. 

“Five more minutes.” You softly chuckled at his response. You and him really were two peas in a pod. 

“Uh, uh, c’mon cowboy. Up n’ at ‘em.” Your hand travels down to his chest, patting it twice as you try to pull yourself away from him. 

Joel tugs you back and pulls you closer to him so your chest is flush against his, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. You card your fingers through his hair gradually, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“I want to stay in bed as much as you do, but the sooner we get these errands done the sooner we can come back and relax.” You try to reason with him, and he lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“Fine. I guess I’ll get up.” 

“I’ll make breakfast after I shower so we won’t leave on empty stomachs.” You reassure him, knowing that your breakfast was the one thing he usually looked forward to on Saturday mornings. 

“Why make breakfast when I have a delicious meal riiight,” He pauses, flipping you on your back so he's hovering over you. He leans down and his lips brush your ear, the coarse hair of his mustache and stubble tickling your soft skin. “Here.” He whispers, kissing your neck as his hand travels down the curves of your body, dangerously close to the place you were most desperate for him. 

A whimper bubbled in your throat, but you shook your head and playfully smacked his arm. 

“Joel Miller, you’re a naughty man.” You laugh, and his face hovers above yours once more. 

“And you’re a naughtier woman,” He smirks, kissing you once. “Naughtiness deserves a punishment, hm?” 

“If naughtiness deserves punishment, does that mean I get to smack your cute ass too?” Mischief was written all over your features, but Joel’s brows turned downward. 

“Don’t even think about it, sweet girl, or I’ll deny you.” 

You quirk your brow at him. “Deny me of what, exactly?” 

“Me. My cock that you seem to fuckin’ love so much.” He shrugs, as if any part of this conversation was nonchalant. 

You decided to tease him further, seeing how far you’d get. “I hate to inform you, Mr. Miller, I do have some handy dandy trustee ‘ol vibrators stashed away that can do the job just fine.” 

He clenched his jaw at your words, rolling his eyes. “Ever the smart fuckin’ mouth on you, eh?” He chuckles, knowing you’d immediately fold for him and let him take care of you much better than your pink and purple toys can. 

“Isn’t that why you married me?” You can’t wipe the stupid grin off of your face as he buries his head into your neck. 

“Mm, one of the reasons,” He moves his hands up to your breasts underneath the shirt you were wearing, squeezing the soft flesh generously. “‘S okay darlin’. I know you only married me for my skills in the bedroom.” 

“Ah, ya got me there.” You throw your hands up in surrender, and Joel lets out a hearty laugh. He moves his hands from underneath your shirt up to your wrists, pinning them down to the bed as he leans down to kiss you. 

“You sure we can’t just stay in bed and y’know, let me put my amazing bedroom skills to use?” Joel juts his bottom lip out and pouts, and you can’t help but laugh at how persistent he was. 

“No, my love. We really do have to run these errands.” You run your hand through his brown curls, pushing yourself up to kiss him before wiggling out from under him. He collapses onto the bed with a groan, slowly making his way out from the array of your fluffy comforter, blankets, and pillows. 

He stands in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kisses your forehead. 

“Last person to reach the shower has to make a pot of coffee!” You giggle as you run to your master bathroom, Joel right on your heels. 

“I don’t think so, missy.” He wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, moving you behind him so he can reach the shower first. 

“Asshole!” You laugh, eyes squinted as you swat his arm. 

“Yeah, but you love me.” Joel winks at you and you roll your eyes, quirking a brow at him as he turns on the shower to a temperature comfortable for you both. 

“That I do, Mr. Miller. That I do.” 

-

Joel ended up making the pot of coffee anyhow after you both showered and got ready for the day. You gratefully thanked your loving husband as he poured both yours and his serving into two thermoses before you set out for the day. 

You had a game plan in your mind, because the quicker you got these errands done, the quicker you’d be able to change into sweats and watch a Christmas movie. First stop was getting gas. You offered Joel for you to pump the gas, but he refused and begrudgingly reminded you that as long as you were with him, you wouldn’t ever be touching a gas pump again. 

Next stop was the local bakery. You needed a restock on the fresh bread they baked, and every holiday season, they made pastries that were absolutely delectable. 

After you left the bakery, you needed to go to Target to get the majority of your Christmas decorations. You drove in a comfortable silence, Joel’s hand securely on your thigh as he drove. A soft country song was playing over the radio, and you looked out of the window to see many stores and houses already decorated for the holidays. You smiled at the sight, loving this time of year more than anything. 

“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?” Joel breaks the silence as he looks over at you when you reach a red light. You look at him, admiring his handsome features before leaning over the center console to kiss him. 

“Nothing in particular, baby. Can’t wait to decorate our house.” You smile at him, and he gives your thigh a soft squeeze. 

When you arrived at Target, it took everything in you to not run to the Christmas section to scour for the perfect decorations. Joel could sense your excitement, and he chuckled as he got a cart to give to you. Joel had to take bigger strides to keep up with how fast you were moving, but he couldn’t help but adore the excitement that overtook you. 

There were so many options for decorations, you didn’t even know where to start. You were examining some ornaments when Joel wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“See any you like?” He asks, turning his head to kiss your cheek. 

“Should we stick with the classic red ornaments? I think they’re so pretty, but multicolored ornaments would go good with our tree since we have the white lights around it.” 

Truthfully, Joel had no idea decorating for Christmas would be full of so many options. Before you moved into your house, you and Joel lived in an apartment that barely had room for a four foot tree. Now you had more than plenty of room for various decorations that were going to stay with you both for years and years to come, encapsulating new traditions within the four walls of your home. 

“Let’s do classic red. We can get multicolored ones next year.” Joel kisses your shoulder before standing up behind you, rubbing circles into your soft, sweater-covered waist. 

You nod in agreement, putting the ornaments in the cart. You pick up a few other things including an ornament that has two wedding rings interlinked with a ‘forever yours’ engraved at the bottom, Joel insisting it needs to be put up on the front of the tree. 

“So do I get to unwrap you as my present this year?” Joel’s lips brushed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You laugh at his joke, rolling your eyes. “Such a cheeseball, I swear.” You huff, and he holds his hands up. 

“What, I can’t admire my beautiful wife in some sexy lingerie then gladly take it off of her?” 

“I’ll let you if you buy it for me. Last time I bought a pretty set, you literally ripped it off of me. You’re a menace, Mr. Miller.” You give him a fake stern glare, reencountering your husband’s inability to be patient and take the pretty pink set you liked so much off of you. 

“Fine. Fair point. Maybe I’ll get you some for Christmas.” 

Joel slots his hand in yours and gives it a squeeze, and a soft smile curls onto your lips. 

“C’mon, let’s look at the trees.” 

-

“A little to the left.” You tell Joel as he hangs up some garland you found on your trip. He does as told, moving to the left before you stop him and tell him it’s perfect. He steps off the stepstool he was on, wrapping his arm around your waist as he observes his handiwork. 

It was five in the evening now, and Joel had just finished putting up the last of the decorations. Your living room basked in a soft yellow light, complimentary of the Christmas tree and the fireplace. 

You were in awe that your living room looked so festive and warm. Owning your own home with the love of your life was something you’ve always dreamed of, and decorating it for one of your favorite holidays had your heart feeling all fuzzy and warm. It was cliché and you knew it, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

You looked up at Joel with a proud smile. His dark eyes reflected the soft lights and the fire as he stared back at you, eyebrows creasing together. 

“What?” He chuckles, pulling you in closer. You grin as you rest your hands onto his solid chest, sliding them up until they intertwine at the back of his neck. 

“Just grateful I have such a hardworking, loving man.” You kiss him briefly, and his hands slide from your waist and down to your ass before you have a chance to pull away. He hums against your lips as he squeezes your pillowy flesh, causing you to gasp. He took that as the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, softly groaning as his hands started to roam furiously. A giggle bubbled in your throat, and he nearly whined when you pulled away from him. 

“So needy, Mr. Miller.” 

“You still owe me a chance to show you my neat bedroom skills, Mrs. Miller.” He retorts, recalling the conversation you had with him this morning. 

“Mm, that I do,” Your eyes glance down to the fireplace, tilting your head in curiosity. “Can we try a new location?” Your pleading eyes look into his as you bat your lashes, knowing Joel always gave in when you gave him that look. 

“And where would that place be?” 

You nod your head down next to the fireplace. “I think it’ll be romantic.” You shrug, and Joel laughs. 

“It does, baby, but you know my knees and back ain’t what they used to be.” 

“Who said you’d be doing the work?” You quirk a brow up at him, a sly smile curling onto your lips. Joel’s cock throbbed at the thought of his pretty little wife taking care of him. 

“Darlin’, are you sure? You don’t have to.” He shakes his head, knowing he gets off just on pleasuring you alone. 

“Can’t your wife show you how much she appreciates her hardworking man?” You take his hand and tug on it, grabbing two pillows from your couch before tossing them on the carpet near the fireplace. 

“Fuck, baby. ‘M so goddamn lucky.” Joel groans, kissing your temple. You pull him in for a kiss as you begin to unbutton his favorite flannel, sliding the worn material off of his broad shoulders. His skin was warm beneath your touch, so inviting and full of life. Home. 

Your nails lightly scratched down his soft torso. He was slightly insecure about his tummy, but you loved it. More of him for you to love. 

You begin to trail your kisses down his neck, nipping at his collarbone and chest as you fumble with his belt buckle. You get it undone, sliding the leather through the loops in his jeans and tossing it on the floor before undoing his button and zipper. He takes the liberty of shucking his jeans off himself, standing before you in nothing but his boxers. 

Your eyes roamed his body hungrily, licking your lips as you trailed your gaze back up to his. Joel’s breathing began to slightly quicken, getting too turned on for his own good just by your lustful stare. 

“So handsome,” You whisper. “Lay down for me, baby.” And he does. He situates himself so his head is propped up on a pillow, staring at you. 

“No fair that I’m nearly naked and you’re still fully dressed.” He playfully pouts, and you laugh. You easily discard your warm sweater over your head and let it pool to the floor with the rest of Joel’s clothes. Your pants follow suit so you’re just left in your bra and panties, and Joel’s dark eyes admire the sight before him. 

“C’mere baby.” He says, holding a hand out to you. Your hand slots in his and he tugs you down so you’re level with him. He grabs your hips and maneuvers you until you’re straddling his hips. 

The flames illuminate his face, softening his features in a way that makes you fall in love with him even more. 

Your gaze moves down to his plush lips before moving back up to his eyes, smiling in the slightest before moving down to kiss him again. One of his hands moves to cup the back of your neck, pushing you further into him to deepen the kiss. You moan softly and can’t help yourself when you slowly start to grind your hips into his, clothed clit catching his bulge just right. 

The whole thing is cathartic, wanting to prove to him how much you appreciate him and everything he does for you, though he already knows it. 

“I love you.” You mumble against his lips, and separate yourself from him to nose at his scruffy jawline to litter soft kisses among his jaw. You move down to his neck, licking a long stripe up a spot that drives him absolutely crazy. His hands grip your hips tighter, the cool metal of his wedding band pressing into your hot skin. 

“I love you–too, fuck, love you too, baby.” He can’t control the noises that fall from his throat as you suck onto his collarbone and chest in the slightest, tongue soothing over the areas you’ve bitten. 

You make your way down his torso, making sure to kiss his stomach a few times before looking up at him. 

“You’re so handsome, my love.” 

Your lips are back on his skin and Joel’s heart fucking flutters. You’re the only woman in the world that can make him feel so adored, so appreciated, so loved. Your praise always gets to him. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever find the right words to tell you what your words do to him. 

Your lips find purchase near his happy trail, poking your tongue out to lick his skin just before the waistline of his boxers. You grab the elastic band, tapping his hips gently. He lifts his hips for you and you easily slide the underwear off his body. He cradles your cheek for a few seconds, admiring how pretty you look. 

You look down at his weeping cock, pre cum bedaubed on his tip. You take his length gently in your hand, giving it a couple of tugs before moving your head down to kiss his thighs. It was rare when you had opportunities to worship Joel’s body like this, so you were going to take advantage of it. 

He only ever got to be soft and slow with your body, never giving himself the grace to allow you to do the same for him. He always made sure your pleasure came first, but tonight, and many more if the stubborn man would let you, his pleasure came first. You wanted to make him feel just as good as he makes you feel. 

You drag your lips up to the apex of his thigh, kissing his hot skin until you get to the base of his cock. You moved your lips to his tip, kissing it once before licking the pre cum off of him. He groaned softly, eyes falling closed. He tossed an arm over his eyes, trying his hardest not to cum just from your lips touching his throbbing cock. 

You gave him a few more slow tugs before licking the underside of his length, humming against him. You finally decided to stop being a little tease and took him into your mouth, inching down slowly until your nose met the tuft, dark curls at the base of his cock. 

He was heavy in your mouth, throbbing at the feeling of your lips wrapped around him. He cradled the back of your head with his other hand, signaling for you to move. You slid your mouth up his shaft, hollowing your cheeks as you worked your way to the top. His silky flesh slid easily against the flat of your tongue, working its way up and down his length to create a steady rhythm. 

You moan around him as you taste the salt of him on your tongue. You move one hand to brace his thigh and the other to gently toy with his balls, knowing that’s what drove him crazy. 

Throaty moans were elicited from your husband, hand tightening on the back of your head in the slightest. 

“Fuck fuck fuck, yeah, just like that mama. Right there.” You whine against his cock when he calls you that, something purely primal licking a flame into your core and up your spine. 

“You like when I call you that?” Joel chuckles, uncovering his eyes with his arm. He looks down at you as desire has completely taken over your expression, zeroed in on one thing only: making your husband cum. 

You furrow your brows as you look up at him, and he moves his hand from the back of your head to cradle under your jaw. He lifted your mouth off of him slowly, drool spilling from your bottom lip as it was still connected to his swollen tip. 

“Answer me, darlin’.” He tilts his head at you, and you shyly nod. 

“Yes.” You’re breathless, moving your mouth back down to his cock before he stops you. 

“Wanna fill you up. Ride me, baby.”

Your thighs clench at his words, the flame in your core burning hotter each second that passes. 

You discard your panties and straddle him once more, the heat from the fire keeping your body a comfortable temperature. 

Joel’s hands slide up your body and up your spine, goosebumps forming onto your skin at his expert touch. He easily unclasps your bra and tosses it to the side, moving his hands to the front to grab the pillowy flesh. 

You slide his tip against your dripping cunt a couple of times before slowly sinking down onto him, the fullness setting your body aflame. 

You moan as you toss your head back, and the feeling of Joel rolling your sensitive nipples between his thumb and index fingers have you keening for release. 

You start to grind your hips back and forth, building sweet friction before you settle your hands on his chest to move up and down. Joel’s hands move down to the curve of your ass, giving it a playful smack as he admires you bouncing on him. 

“Fuck, Joel, feel so good.” You cry, eyes screwing shut at the burning pleasure becoming harder to ward off. 

“Takin’ such good care of me, mama. ‘M gettin’ close.” He says, hands moving to settle onto your hips. You whine in response, moving down so your body is flush with his as you give him another searing, passionate kiss. 

“You deserve to be taken care of too, Joel. So grateful for you, my honey.” Your lips are next to his ear now, whispering praises to him like it was the last thing you’d ever do on this earth. 

“Fuckin’ love you. Everythin’ about you.” Joel’s voice is strained now, a tell that he was about to come undone. One of Joel’s hands moves down to rub at your clit furiously, desperate to send you over the edge. 

“I love you too—oh, fuck.” You cry, the internal flame finally engulfing your body as a whole. Your orgasm triggered Joel’s as your tight cunt squeezed him, and he held your hips steady to release everything he had into you. Your body convulsed a few times before finally settling down, laying on top of Joel. He wrapped one arm around the small of your back as the other hand traced patterns on your warm skin, kissing your head a few times before a deep chuckle rumbles within his throat. 

You lift your head to look at him. “What?” Your voice is timid again, too fucked out to be any octaves louder than the crackling flames of the fire. 

“One of these days ‘m gonna fuck a baby into you, Mrs. Miller. Then I’ll get to call you mama for real.” 

You tucked your face into his neck at his words, laughing softly. You and Joel have talked about kids before, but both agreed you’d want to buy a house first with a possibility of owning a dog too before having any. 

You kissed Joel’s neck once more before hovering your face over his, smiling down at him. “Until then, Mr. Miller, we’ll need to start our own traditions… just us two for now. Starting with fucking by the fireplace more often.” You laugh, and Joel shakes his head with a hearty chuckle as he flips you over so you’re underneath him. 

“That I can do, darlin’,” Joel looks at you with a knowing smirk. “Round two?” 

tags: @ilovepedro ; @party-hearses ; @nostalxgic ; @tinygarbage ; @bastardmandennis

[vaaaaaiolet]

Why choose between riding a cowboy, a stallion, or an Italian when you can have all three? In which you find competition for the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost in the American West.

mdni holy shit. f / m, shameless smut just like pure filth. p in v, wild west au, TONS of christian imagery via metaphor??, mild praise + size kink, leon's a tease as usual

word count: 1.69k <3 // read on ao3

a/n: re6 leon turns my brain into illiterate mush and this is the proof. i wrote this 1 word an hour. i couldn't cope. ignore the half assed banner, half assed writing, half assed everything. listen to nessa barrett's song from the title. god bless you all.

God makes no mistakes: you’re on your knees in the back of an Arizona saloon, but you’re not exactly praying thanks. God is a vision in dirty blond as far as you’re concerned. How’d you end up here?

Enter Leon Kennedy: outlaw on the run.

He hadn’t gotten the memo when angels started coming down to Earth and wanted to give you the warm welcome you deserve. 

“Seriously?” You laugh; swirl your watered-down whiskey.

“I’ve always wanted to try that one out,” Leon grins. Cocky and magnetic, he takes your hand in his own calloused one and guides you to the dance floor. “But you haven’t seen my real trick yet.”

“And what’s that?”

“This.”

Every other beat of your heart finds you in a dizzying dip over the floor as Leon leads you in a dance akin to gunfights in Tombstone, except Leon is more than O.K. at what he does. He’s got you in a trance with his hands spanning your waist.

Sucking in dust and his woodsmoke cologne, you gasp, “Where’d you learn how to dance like that?”

“You’ve never been danced properly before?” Leon laughs. He spins you like you’re the moon.

“Not like this!”

“Oh darlin’, you don’t learn by talkin’ about it. Keep dancing and you’ll figure it out.”

Figure out a two-step you might not have, but you can figure just fine what Leon means when his hand slips up the hem of your blouse. A hungry thumb soon lines your brassiere right under the nose of the barkeep. 

“You’re crass, Leon,” you whisper.

“Is that a no? I’ll treat you right if you let me.”

God expects his servants to give and take, and you’ve done a lot of taking so far, no? You’ve been a little down on your luck lately. Can’t afford to tempt fate that way. So you pull Leon down by the collar, whisper back with your lips lined in devil red, “Make it my treat?”

His smirk glimmers in the dark. “Lead the way, doll.”

Quickly, quickly. Miracles disappear in the blink of an eye and Leon needs to take you before you can disappear into the night. Rope-toughened fingertips fly down your lined blouse, slip the silk off to unveil your sun-freckled shoulders behind the barkeep’s storage door. You’ve spirited Leon away for twenty minutes at best before the saloon closes and the workers come barging in. You’ve got to pay penance for this, haven’t you?

You sink to your knees. 

Leon hooks his hands under your thighs and sits you right back up on a crate, and gets down on his knees.

What.

You’re running on borrowed time, you can’t afford tweaks to this arrangement. “I thought we had a deal?” you scowl. 

But you forget God makes no mistakes. Leon is his creation, so causation, correlation, you do the math. Your anger dissipates at the first swipe of his thumb over your clothed slit. Wetness blooms at his touch, and Leon chuckles as your breath shudders. Genesis.

“Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to let a lady do all the work.” He kisses the spot between your legs, looks up at you with eyes of oasis blue. “You know I take the lead.”

Your chest heaves. “I do.”

“I’m good at it.”

“...You are.”

"And I know this isn't your style. All I ask is that you let me earn my keep.”

Well, that goes without saying. And so Leon flips the script. 

He starts lining burning kisses down your thigh, entices you with an “Open for me”, sighs dreamily when your legs part of their own accord. A previously bothersome, soaked scrap of lace falls at Leon’s feet. 

“Oh, baby, you should’ve asked next time. Look at this mess. Wouldn’t’ve needed to be so quick, then.”

Try and look down, but Leon’s already latched his warm mouth onto your clit, sucking like it’s a Tootsie pop. You throw your head back in ecstasy. 

Waves of feel-good wash over you in all the colors of a pinkening sunset, gold at the edges and red hot at the center, your own overflowing with slick as Leon dips his tongue inside – oh, oh, oh, swirling the colors with each revolution around your sensitive pearl. Your thighs threaten to clamp around his head. He keeps you pliant, capping your knees with rough palms.

“Leon…” you can’t help but whine. 

“Just workin’ ya a bit. Think you’ve had enough?” you hear him groan from underneath.

You’re barely breathing. “Need…need more.”

“Don’t seem that way to me from here. God, you’re gorgeous.” Leon croons, sucking a tender bite a little ways from where you need him most, over the softest part of your inner thigh. A landmark so he can hope to find his way back. He taps your knee. “Time?”

The dusty clock on the barkeep’s desk reads ten minutes to twelve; you relay this with difficulty as Leon does his damnedest to render you incapable of speech. He hums, considering. The vibration shoots right up your core.

“I’ve been in tighter spots,” he eventually decides, shooting you a lopsided grin as he hefts you higher on the crate you’ve practically melted off the side of, “No offense, doll.”

You’d laugh if you weren’t so close. “Low-hanging fruit, Leon.”

“You taste sweeter nohow.”

Missing his mouth already, you pull him back into a kiss. His leather belt clinks in time with the glasses back inside the bar as he unbuckles it, and you take the time to appreciate how you’re level with him even perched atop a crate. Leon’s got height on you. 

Inches where it matters, too. His cock bucks in his hand when it finally springs free, and you bat your lashes up at him ‘cause it seems Leon’s been keeping secrets. He’s thick, ruddy and leaking, got a halo over the head of his dick in the light that creeps in from under the door, and you make a prayer to put your mouth on him if you cross paths once more. Your fingers barely go all the way around.

“Make a deal with me, cowboy,” you breathe. “I let you have your fun. Now, you let me.”

Leon cocks a brow. He’s antsy, understandably so. “What’s that entail?”  

Plywood burns the back of your jean skirt as you slide off the crate, Leon watching as you shuck off the denim, pool it underneath your feet. You reel him in by the collar just to shove him onto the barkeep’s high-backed chair. Leon’s eyes widen when your thighs bracket his and everything suddenly makes sense as you center your cunt tantalizingly over his painfully erect length. 

He’s rasping, needy. “This what you had in mind?”

“‘Fraid so.”

“You sure?”

You scoff haughtily, dragging a smile from him that’s all lynx. “Your wish is my command, miss.” 

Palms start gliding up your torso, thumbs rub circles on the undersides of your breasts. Leon’s collarbones collect moonlight streaming in from the open window and you want to lap it all up like milk, but you’re getting distracted. The clock is counting closer to midnight. Adrenaline makes you heady. Maybe you should tell Leon to get a good handle on your hips when you sink down on his dick – point blank. 

All the way to the hilt. 

He takes it in stride as best as he can. “Tight, doll, ah,” he hisses, head bobbing, “so tight. Gonna send me to heaven.” 

You shift your hips experimentally, whimpering at the stretch. You’re a lousy judge of character but an apparently worse judge of size because you have no idea how you’re going to do this. Leon’s thumb reroutes to your navel, North Star that it is, and travels down to wait over your clit. Technically, you’ve still got the lead. Everything’s still. So so still. You’re about to break.

The minute hand ticks.

“Leon, please,” you whimper.

“What’s that, doll?” 

You paw uselessly at his chest. “Need help.”

Leon clicks his tongue in sympathy. It’s hard to get mad at a thing like you no matter how tough you sell yourself. Smart mouth and pretty eyes, bubblegum sweet underneath, something he’s gotta help. Leon’s always been a sucker for the damsel in distress type.

So he calls down a miracle. “I gotcha, sweetheart.” 

You cry out in relief at the lifting sensation of his hands around your hips. This is another dance you’ve yet to learn, it seems. 

“I gotcha.” Leon’s voice is a psalm over the burn of his cock inside you. A familiar thumb sneaks in between where you and he meet; whiskey and mint on his breath intoxicates you when he murmurs, ”Did so good for me, darlin’. Doesn’t feel too great right now, does it?”

You sniffle. “Mm-mm.”

“Gonna let me make it better?”

“Please.”

Leon indulges you. Taking advantage of the slick velvet he’s wrapped in, he glides you up just the tiniest bit, revealing the inch of his length you’ve covered in your arousal. You watch transfixed as he lifts your hips up and down. Baby steps. Stomach flips. You leave him coated in stardust like you’re made of it.

Leon’s in awe. “See that?” 

But you’re too far gone to take notice of anything but the embers in your stomach, seconds away from crumpling onto his chest. You were once sitting proudly upright. The extent of your desire hits like a revelation once your insides finally mold around him, like it was all prophesized, and you can’t tell up from down when Leon starts to piston you on his lap.

Five minutes 'til it’s all over: You’re tender and boneless and about to explode. Leon is relentless. Sweat drips from his brow like holy water. He kicks the barkeep’s chair to barricade the door because you were right, there’s no way you’re making it out here alive.

Your thighs ache with exertion, steering you on their own.

Four minutes: “Can’t take it, Leon!” You’re going under. The flood is no myth.

“Tell me where,” he grits, desperate.

Three. 

You want him to pull up the ladder.

Two.

“Where, doll, where?!”

One.

“Inside.” 

And God, you burn brighter than the sun.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[fadedncity]

save a horse, ride a cowboy

wc: 3.3k

pairing: haechan x fem!reader

cw: smut, bf!haechan, non idol au, alcohol consumption, switch!haechan, switch!reader, praising, teasing, oral sex (receiving), fingering, brief sensory deprivation, riding/cowgirl, dirty talk, pet names, marking, creampie, unprotected sex, small mention of other idols, small mention of aftercare

song inspo: tyrant, sweet ★ honey ★ buckiin’, and riiverdance by beyoncé

a/n: i've been listening to cowboy carter nonstop ever since it dropped, gaining a shit ton of inspiration lmao. happy reading! 🤠

You tap your boot along to the beat of the song, creating a soft thud on the wooden planks below you. The bar hums with activity, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and sawdust mixed with the aroma of sizzling food and spilled beer.

Lanterns flicker overhead, casting dancing shadows across the room as patrons swirled around the wooden dance floor, their boots drumming out rhythms as they engaged in lively line dancing, their laughter mingling with the twang of guitars and the thump of the bass.

"Anytime today, Hyuck," you sigh, resting your chin on the end of your cue stick while you wait for Haechan to make his move.

"I'm thinking," Haechan says, his hand on his hip as he surveys the pool table. The warm glow of overhead lights illuminates the green-felt surface of the pool table you've been occupying for the better part of an hour.

Haechan's gaze is intense, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he calculates each shot. His fingers trace the edge of his cue stick, the wood worn smooth from years of use. Haechan leans over the table, his movements fluid as he lines up his shot.

The sharp crack of the cue ball fills the air as he strikes, the 5 ball nearly making it into the pocket but hitting the edge of the table instead, causing Haechan to curse under his breath.

You smirk, rounding the table to Haechan's side, confidence oozing from your pores, "Excuse me," you lean over the table.

You eye the remaining balls with a grin, your mind already calculating the perfect angle for your next shot. With a smooth stroke, you send both the 11 and 8 balls careening into the corner pocket, sealing your victory.

"That makes it what now, 3-1," you tease, savoring the taste of triumph. 

Haechan hadn't really been paying attention to your game-winning strike, too distracted by you leaning over in front of him, especially in this outfit.

"You know, maybe if you weren't too busy staring at my ass, you'd have a fair chance at winning."

"Not my fault your ass looks amazing in these pants," Haechan smirks, stepping forward and pressing his body flush against yours.

The scent of whiskey and cologne clouds your senses as you refuse to back down and look away even under the immense weight of his heavy stare. 

"Hey—Oh I'm definitely interrupting something," Michelle said, breaking the tension between the two of you. 

"Just me running Hyuck's pockets dry," You break the eye contact, looking over at your friend.

"So nothing new then," Michelle waves off, "Well Yangyang lost in darts, so the next round's on him," she informs you both.

"Say less," You slip from between Haechan and the pool table. 

Haechan closely follows behind you as you join your friends gathered around the table. 

"To victory and defeat," Renjun teases Yangyang, causing the younger to flip him off as he downed the shot. 

"To victory and defeat!" the group echoed, clinking their glasses together before tossing back the fiery liquid and slamming them down on the table. 

"So," You wince, letting the slight burn of the alcohol pass, "Wanna go another round?" you ask Haechan. 

"So you can take more of my money? No thank you," he says, setting his glass down beside yours. 

"Booo you're no fun," you scoff.

Haechan's lips curled into a sly grin, "How about something that gives a more fair chance of either of us winning."

"Like...?"

Haechan's eyes scanned the room before landing on the rowdy patrons lined up for their turn on the mechanical bull, its metal frame gleaming under the dim lights. Cheers and laughter erupted as riders attempted to last longer than the previous one, their determination matched only by the wild gyrations of the mechanical contraption.

"The mechanical bull."

You accept the challenge with a smirk, eager to prove your skills once again.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the challenge. "And why would I lose?" With a playful tug, you snatched Haechan's hat from his head and plopped it on your own.

Haechan chuckles, his gaze trailing after the hat. "Because, sweetheart, if you've forgotten, you're about as graceful as a newborn calf," he says.

A grin spreads across your face as you adjust the hat, determined to prove him wrong. "Oh, baby, don't be so sure you know everthing. I've got moves you've yet to see," you counter, your competitive spirit ignited.

"You sure this hat isn't too small for your big head?" Haechan teases, flicking the brim of the hat on your head.

"Oh I'm sure. Unless you're scared to prove me right."

"I just don't want your ego to be bruised when you're proven wrong," Haechan says.

"Okay, how much you wanna bet?" you ask.

"How about we make this a little more interesting?" he proposes, his tone suggestive.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his suggestion. "And what's more interesting than money?" you inquire, a mischievous smile on your lips.

"If you win, I'll go home with you tonight and we can do whatever you want," he leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, "If I win, you'll come over to mine, and I get to do whatever I want to you," he says.

A chill runs down your spine as Haechan speaks these words in your ear. You swallow hard, trying not to make it evident how excited you are by his words. 

"You're on, Hyuck."

"May the best rider win," he holds out his hand for you to shake.

As Haechan rose from his seat, a determined glint in his eyes, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. He ventured toward the mechanical beast, his confident stride drawing the attention of both you and your friends. With a smirk, you leaned over to the rest of the table, informing them of the bet you had made with Haechan, leaving out a few of the more intimate details to spare their ears.

"How long do you think he'll last?" Dosie questions as she sat up in her seat to get a better view.

Mark turns in his spot, his eyes trained on Haechan as he mounts the mechanical bull. "I'll give him 10, maybe 15 seconds," he wagers, a playful grin spreading across his face.

As the mechanical bull bucked and swayed, Haechan surprised everyone by lasting longer than 15 seconds, though he was ultimately thrown off before reaching the 20-second mark, much to Yuta's amusement as he operated the machine.

"Have fun trying to beat that, babe," Haechan calls out confidently as he approaches you, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Have fun watching me," you wink as you stand to your feet, accepting the challenge laid before you.  

Haechan switches places with you, his gaze fixated on your swaying hips as you walk away from the table. He watches you pass the pen, heading toward the DJ's booth where Johnny stands, whispering something in his ear. You exchange a knowing smile with Haechan from across the bar, a silent understanding passing between you as you prepare to take on the challenge.

As the music changes, signaling the start of your ride, you mount the mechanical bull with ease, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Once you have your balance, you let go of the reins and let the beat of the music flow through your body, trusting your hips to follow the movements of the machine to keep you upright.

Haechan watches you intently as you effortlessly command the bull, practically hypnotizing him as your hips move in sync with the music, and you make it look like the easiest thing ever.

"Tyrant every time I ride it, every time I ride it. Make it look so good-" The lyrics of the song ring out in Haechan's ears as he's unable to tear his eyes away from you.

Haechan's throat feels dry and can feel his cock stirring in his pants, watching you. His mind races, quickly disregarding any repercussions of the bet, wanting to take you home as the desire to have him be the one you're on top of grows with each whine of your waist.

The intensity of the ride increases, and you grab onto your hat, ensuring it stays firmly in place as you continue to ride with no hands, determined to prove a point to Haechan, all the while completely unaware of the turmoil you're subjecting him to.

But as your legs began to tire, you knew it was time to gracefully dismount the bull, bouncing on the airy cushion below before being helped up by Yuta.

"And we have a new record setter!" Johnny announces, causing the bar to erupt into cheers, the crowd raising their drinks in salute. 

"Hey, you have a bit of drool, just right there," Kelcee teases Haechan as he still hasn't picked up his jaw.

Returning to the table victorious, you share a triumphant smile with Haechan, "This now makes it 4-1," you declare, downing the free shot Taeyong had brought to your table.

"We're leaving now," Haechan says.

"Why?" you ask.

"Cause I almost just came in my pants," he admits.

. . .

The entry to your house was heated, as Haechan couldn't wait another second after you got the key in the door. His hands were all over you, desperate to get your clothes off as you both almost trip over your feet, kicking off your boots.

"You're so impatient, baby. What's everyone gonna think of us just leaving so abruptly?" you ask.

"I don't give a fuck," Haechan reaches for your waist, pulling you close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin, "I need you now." he pants against your lips.

You circle your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. Haechan's hands on your hips travel lower, cupping your ass through your leather pants, making you groan into his mouth.

He grabs the back of your thighs, hoisting you into the air, making you yelp in surprise when you feel the ground no longer beneath your feet.

Haechan blindly navigates through your house, bringing you both to the bedroom, slightly knocking into pieces of furniture on the way there. You hop out of his arms when he nears the bed and push him down onto the mattress.

Sitting back on his hands, Haechan watches as you begin to undo the strings of your top, revealing the tops of your breasts.

You can tell he's already growing impatient, nibbling on his bottom lip and bouncing his leg, becoming more fidgety.

"Would you like to do the honors?" you drop your arms to your sides, and without missing a beat, Haechan drops to his knees in front of you. He swiftly undoes your belt, flinging somewhere in the room before making quick work of your pants, pulling the leather down your legs, allowing you to step out of them.

You softly run your fingers through Haechan's hair as he begins kissing his way up your legs. His hands snake up the sides of your legs, pulling you closer as he reaches the apex of your thigh.

"Can I?" he asks, looking up at you with desperation in his eyes.

"Go ahead, my love," you nod at him.

Haechan doesn't break eye contact as he takes the hem of your underwear between his teeth, slowly dragging them down your legs. He licks his lips, circling an arm around one of your thighs, pulling you closer to his face.

You sensually hum, letting your head fall back as Haechan's tongue laps at your folds. His eyes flick up to your face, watching as you lose yourself and begin rocking your hips against his mouth.

"Mhm, that's it, baby," you moan.

Haechan smirks before he catches your clit between his lips, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Hyuck," you gasp, roughly tugging at his roots.

You mewl, feeling your knees becoming weak. But Haechan holding your hips helps you stay upright. He starts shifting in his place on the floor, his cock straining against his pants as he eats you out. Your eyes roll back, the warmth blooming in your lower stomach. Haechan shoves his face further between your legs, his tongue working tirelessly against your pulsing clit.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum," you tell him.

A muffled whimper can be heard from the man before you, desperate to taste all of you. Haechan's fingers reach your entrance, slowly sinking two digits into your pussy.

"Yes, yes, right there," you sigh.

Haechan groans when you roughly pull on his hair, tugging his head back. Your eyes meet your boyfriend's wide, lustful ones, seeing the lower half of his face glistening with your juices in the dim lighting of your bedroom.

You grab the collar of his shirt, getting him to stand to his full height, and crash your lips into his. You swipe your tongue along the seam of his lips, tasting yourself when you slip your tongue into his mouth.

You begin unbuttoning his shirt as he undoes the buckle of his belt, letting it clunk to the floor, before kicking off his pants along with his underwear.

With the strings of your vest untied, Haechan pushes the leather off your shoulders, finally getting you fully undressed as he pulls you down onto the bed with him, seating you in his lap.

A soft groan slips from Haechan's lips when you roll your hips into his, and you feel his cock growing more and more erect with each gyration of your hips. You trail kisses down his neck, softly sinking your teeth into his skin.

You push Haechan back onto the pillows, brushing your hair out of the way as it falls into his face.

"So," you start as you reach over to your nightstand, "Remember the part when you said if I win, we get to do whatever I want," you remind him, revealing the blindfold in your hand.

"Oh god," Haechan rolls his eyes.

"What, you said you trust me," you sit back with a pout.

"I do," Haechan sits up, hugging you closer, "I just hate the idea of not being able to see you," now he has a pout on his face, "I love nothing more than watching your face completely melt with bliss as I make you cum on my cock," his fingers dig into your skin, "But of course for you, my love, I'll do anything."

"We don't have t-"

"I want to. Just let me look at you a little longer first," Haechan tucks your hair behind your ear, admiring your features.

You press a kiss to his lips, "Alright, pretty boy," you tie the scarf behind his head, making sure not to get his hair caught in the knot. "You ready?"

"Do your worst," he says with a snarky grin, laying back with his hands behind his head.

"Okay," You lined his cock up with your entrance, slowly sinking down onto his length, "Just relax for me, babe."

"Fuck," Haechan draws out, reveling in the feeling of you wrapped around him.

"God, you fill me up so good, Hyuck," you begin to rock your hips.

His hands reach out for you but he stops himself. "Can I touch you?"

"Hmm, not yet," you say, "Just sit there and take it like a good boy," you kiss the corner of his mouth.

Haechan whimpers and bucks his hips up into yours, balling his fists to restrain himself. You flatten your feet on the bed, giving yourself more leverage. Each time you lower yourself, you feel the tip of his cock reaching the deepest parts of you.

Haechan tries to keep himself from moving too much but fails miserably, too drunk off the feeling of your warm, wet walls, hugging his length with a vice grip.

"Please—fuck—please, you feel so fucking good," he squirms beneath you, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Yeah, is this what you wanted?" you let your knees fall on either side of his waist, slowing down your movements, "Couldn't stop yourself from hoping I'd ride you as well as that mechanical bull, huh, pretty boy?"

His breath hitches in his throat, "Mhm..."

"Maybe you knew you'd lose, and knew you'd get exactly what you wanted anyway."

Haechan laughs, "It may have crossed my mind."

You pull the blindfold from over his eyes, and Haechan blinks his vision into focus, staring up at you.

"God, you got me so fucking weak," Haechan sighs, bringing a smile to your face.

"Come here," you jut your chin toward him.

Haechan sits up, wrapping his arms around and crashing his lips into yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss. Haechan's lips muffle your moans, holding your hips and directing your movements.

"Fuck, I wanna cum so bad," he says.

"What makes you think you deserve to?" you tease.

Mischief gleams in your boyfriend's eyes as he holds your waist, bringing you both closer to the edge of the bed. He grabs your ankles, directing your feet to flatten on the bed on either side of him. With the extra leverage, you're able to move more fluidly and curl your arm around Haechan's neck as you ride him.

"Oh my god, hyuck, you feel so fucking good," you whine.

"That's right, sweetheart," he takes hold of your waist, slamming his cock up into you, "Take it like it's yours," he grunts.

You cry out, throwing your head back as Haechan can't tear his eyes away from where your bodies meet, too entranced with the way your sopping heat swallows his cock.

"I feel so close," you say.

"Yeah?" he smirks. He sneaks his hand between your bodies, and a moan rips from your throat as he circles your clit with his thumb.

"Please, Hyuck, oh my god!" your fingernails dig into his shoulder, causing him to his at the temporary pain. "I want you to cum with me."

"Oh I'm right there with you, princess," his voice drops an octave, "Just focus on how good it feels. How much I fill you up over and over again. How your pretty little pussy takes me so well."

"Please, baby, m'close," you slur.

"That's it, sweetheart, yeah," Haechan's jaw clenched, feeling how tight you are right now, "Let me have it all."

Your thighs tremble, and the muscles in your lower stomach contract as you feel the knot inside you snap. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and your vision goes black. You slump against Haechan's chest as his hips continue fucking up into you, your orgasm sending him into his own.

"Fuck," Haechan buries his cock inside you, letting his seed decorate your inner walls.

"Oh my god," was all you could say as you wrapped your arms around Haechan, trying to catch your breath. 

Haechan tucks his head into the crook of your neck and rubs his hand up and down your back. Soft kisses against the side of your throat bring you out of your haze, and you lift your head to meet Haechan's eyes.

"That was…" 

"Yeah, it was," you both laugh.

"Are you alright?" he asks, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. 

"Yeah, I'm just already feeling it in my legs," you tell him, hissing from the discomfort in your limbs. 

You attempt to stand, almost falling to the floor if it weren't for Haechan grabbing your waist and seating you back on the bed.

"How about you stay here, and I get you cleaned up. I have a feeling you're gonna be having some difficulty getting around for the next few days," Haechan chuckles.

"It was totally worth it," you reply.

a/n: i feel like it’s been so long since i’ve put something out and im so sorry for that 😣 but i’ve missed y’all and i’ve missed writing. i can’t promise my next story will be out soon but i’ll definitely be putting some more stuff out later on in the year. i love you all and thank you for reading <33 feedback is appreciated!!

[itsphoenix0724]

Save A Horse (Cassian x Reader)

Summary: After a long hard day of work all Cas wants is a cold beer and a pretty girl.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: SMUT, sexual language about women's bodies

A/N: I love a good cowboy au, and I feel like my boy Cas fits that vibe the best. I'm sorry I've been MIA, but I'm trying to get back into it I promise. Thank you all for your patience. Much love <3

Cassian takes off his hat as he walks into the bar, hair slicked back against his forehead after a long day in the sun.  He appreciates the job Rhys’s father offers him, but he puts him through the wringer every day from sun up to sun down. Friday nights at Rita’s are always packed, and tonight is no exception, especially with the new addition of the mechanical bull. Cassian only has to step up to the bar and a beer is already set in front of him. He takes a sip, letting the drink cool him from the inside out before he turns to survey the dance floor. It’s packed with girls square dancing and some just drunkenly bumping and grinding with the person closest to them. He looks out across the floor watching the buckle bunnies saunter up to every available ranch hand they set their eyes on. Nights like these are some of his favorites, he just lets the girls flock to him so he can take his pick of the litter to get lost in for the night. 

That’s when he sees you, red cowboy boots in all your glory on the back of that mechanical bull.  

The bull is supposed to be impossible to stay on, he knows because he laughed about it with Rita on the first night she had it installed. Rhys, Az, and himself had spent the entire night watching people get thrown into the inflatable pit around it, laughing so hard they almost tipped their barstools.

But you were staying on the bull, and Cas is absolutely entranced. Your hips rock back and forth with the bull's motion, countering every single buck and jerk the machine used to try to throw you. You even had the balls to take one hand off the reigns and Cassian almost fell to his knees right there when you flipped yourself around and started to ride it backward. His eyes wander down to the tight denim of your cut-off shorts, your ass looks good enough for him to bite. 

Every single eye in the bar is fixed on you because no one has ever stayed on the bull this long. 

The machine starts to slow down, the rocking of your hips becoming more sensual as you begin to follow the beat of the country song blasting across the speakers. Everyone watches with rapt attention as the bull finally stops, before erupting into cheers that shake the very foundation of the building. You dismount, bowing with a flourish as you return to your group of friends. Most of the guys in the bar are approaching you, but Cassian is already tucking his hat back on and barreling over. Any other guy who had thought he stood a chance backed off just as quickly when Cassian sent them a glare that could level mountains. 

He didn’t care what anyone said, he had to have you tonight, tonight you were his and his alone. 

“That was incredible.” Cassian rumbles, coming up behind you, a quick wink and smile from him sends your friends fluttering across the dance floor laughing behind their hands. 

“Well thank you,” you drawl, red lips pulling back into a feline grin. “And you are?” one of your eyebrows cocks, eyes lazily trailing up and down his form. 

“Cassian Prince,” he tips his hat and watches as you smirk, “and can I have your name or should I just call you Beautiful?” you laugh incredulously, before rolling your eyes. Cassian’s confidence wavers for a second, that line normally works, but he presses on. “Can I buy you a drink?” You hum in contemplation, making a good show of tipping your head in thought. 

“No thanks, maybe next time Cowboy.” You pat him on the shoulder before sauntering away from him and disappearing back into the crowd. Cassian watches those red boots walk away dumbfounded, but sulks back to his spot against the bar. 

Cassian drinks until closing time, eyes still prowling the crowd but dissatisfied with every potential prospect. Nothing compared to the rush you gave him when you were on that bull. 

Rita’s is emptying, and Cas knocks back another shot of whiskey as Rita cleans the glasses for the night. On the nights he doesn’t go home with someone he usually stays to ensure she gets to her car okay even though he doesn’t think that anyone in this town would be dumb enough to try anything with Rita. 

“Hey Jackass, leave me the hell alone!” It’s shouted across the bar in such alarm that it raises the hairs on the back of Cassian’s neck. He moves faster than his brain can keep up with, tipsy feet carrying him to the bar's back corner. Cas finds that the distressed voice he heard belongs to you, and you’re currently facing up with a guy about twice your height, eyes locked on him with a glare that could make the devil flinch. 

“Come on baby, I saw you on that bull,” 

The stranger is pretty big, but Cas still has a couple of inches on him.

“I think the lady said to leave her alone.” Cassian’s voice rumbles, deep and dark like a thunderstorm. Your eyes blaze with lightning in return. The stranger turns and shoves Cassian on the shoulder, his adrenaline spikes, the song in his blood finally happy for a fight. His fist clenches and before he can blink it slams into the stranger's face. Cassian looks at you again as you freeze in shock, the stranger knocked out cold on the floor between your feet. 

“HEY!” Rita’s voice screams across the bar, “Enough! Cassian get cleaned up, I’ll handle this.” She waves a disgusted at the man collapsed on the ground and you silently grab Cas’s hand to lead him into the bar’s tiny bathroom. 

The two of you share the space across the sink, you run his hand under cold water before gently dabbing at the broken skin of his knuckles with a paper towel. 

“You know,” you start, a teasing lilt to your voice “no one’s ever punched a guy out for me before.” 

“It’s not gentlemanly to disrespect women” Cassian rumbles eyes watching the way your hands curl around the callous skin of his palm. Maybe it’s the leftover adrenaline from the punch he threw, but the only thing he can think of is that your skin is so soft, hands unburdened by the roughness of labor. You lift your head and Cas can feel the ghost of your exhale skate across his lips. He doesn’t know who leans in first, but your lips taste like the limes and salt used for tequila shots. 

He tries his best to chase the hidden burn as your tongue traces over the seam of his lips. 

You’re surprisingly dominant in the way your tongue traces over his with a sensuality Cassian thinks runs in your blood. Cas lets himself be pulled in like a ship out in the ocean, flowing and bellowing with the tide that is your kiss. Those damned hands start undoing the buttons on his flannel, but he doesn’t let you get too far. “We should get out of here,” he heaves, your chests rising and falling to the same beat, he leads you with a hand to the small of your back out of the bar over to his truck. Cassian opens the door to the driver's seat and lifts you onto the seat before his mouth meets yours again. 

Your hands feel like wildfire as they trace down the hard muscles of his back, his trail sends lightning strikes down the curve of your thighs. 

Your fingers find the buttons of his shirt again, and Cassian can feel himself getting harder every time one gets undone. His flannel drifts down to the asphalt that covers the parking lot and your hands against his bare chest might be the closest thing to heaven he’ll ever get. His lips bite dark marks into the curve of your neck, and the moan you release bounces off the curve of the windshield and comes back to rattle his bones. Your hands try to fond Cas’s hair but they run into the wide brim of his hat. The two of you pull apart and the fire in your eyes makes his old jeans get tighter. Your red lipstick is smeared but smile no less wild as you take off his hat and place it onto your head, as triumphant as a queen with a crown. 

“Do you know what that means?” the low timbre of Cassian’s voice sounds more animal than human, his pupils blown wide as his eyes try to swallow you whole. With a laugh, you tip his hat at him and Cas drops to his knees this time. He makes quick work of the belt holding your shorts up, popping the buckle, and sliding the denim down your legs until they hit the concrete below the truck with a metallic thud. He devours you quickly, wasting no time to delve his tongue between your thighs. Your head tosses back with a moan as you begin to grind against his face with the same ferocity that you used to ride the bull earlier. Cassian slips a finger inside of you and lets out a loud groan at the feeling of you clenching around him, he can barely wait to get inside you. You finally release with a broken cry and collapse against his truck's old leather bench seat. You sit up on your elbows, chest heaving up and down with hungry eyes, and Cassian claims your mouth again. Large broad hands drag up your jaw and into your hair, scraping with such delight you almost purr like a cat. Your hands practically rip his belt open, his hips bucking into your hand when you rub hard against his length. Eagerly, you pull Cas into the truck after you and he barely manages to pull the door shut behind you. He kisses his way down your body, worshiping every inch and curve he finds before making his way back up. Lining himself up he pushes himself into you. Your hands claw down his back with a wild ferocity and Cassian loves the bite your fingernails leave. He gives you a few minutes to adjust to him, but when you start squirming underneath him and running your tongue along the shell of his ear, he snaps. He fucks into you with pure abandon, white-hot pleasure shooting between the both of you like a live wire. However, you–like everything else you’ve done tonight, continue to surprise him. You flip Cas over in the seats and ride him until his eyes almost roll back into his head. He never wants to leave this truck, the efforts of your passions fogging up the windows. You tumble over the edge walls squeezing him in a vice grip, and he’s almost embarrassed by it, but with a broken whimper, Cassian manages to lift you off of him and finish all over your stomach. You collapse against his chest, leaving red trailed kisses along the length of his jugular. After recovering, you retrieve your shorts from the ground, pulling them back up your thighs Cas watches with his eyes half-lidded in orgasmic bliss. He tracks the movement of your finger as you wipe away the smeared lipstick from the corners of your mouth. 

“I’ll see you around cowboy.” Your sultry voice echoes out, reigniting the problem in Cassian’s pants when you swing the door to his truck shut and he watches your hips sway as you walk to your own car. 

Cassian has to sit in his truck for another fifteen minutes to recover and its when he runs his hands through his tousled hair that he realizes one thing. 

You’ve walked off with his hat.

[empresskylo]

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠ GUNSLINGER SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠ afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. blood. gun violence. gore. smut. p in v. sex without protection. wild west au. wc 5.9k. ➠SUMMARY | you find yourself getting tangled up in the mission of a group of outlaw cowboys and ghost doesn't seem to take a liking to you. that is until you get hurt. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | cowboy ghost! cowboy ghost! cowboy ghost!

gunslinger ghost image cr ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

you flipped another coin onto the bar, thanking the bartender as he refilled your glass with whiskey. you turned and leaned back, taking a sip of your drink. the high-noon light poured into the saloon, dust particles sparkling in its rays.

you played with the gun in your holster aimlessly as a group of men you’ve never seen before walked in. they pushed through the batwing doors and took in their surroundings, appraising the people of al mazrah. the piano stopped momentarily, synchronizing with the speechlessness of the room. 

your eyes glazed over several cowboys, all with their own unique getup. but the one that drew your attention the most was a man donning a red skull mask. it reflected the midday sun and piqued your curiosity. he stood behind the others, his head not scanning the saloon like his friends were. you felt his eyes settle on you and your cheeks went hot at the attention. 

they all approached the bar and you kept your eyes locked on them in a challenge. “afternoon, ma’am,” the only man in the group without some form of face covering said, tipping his hat as he did. 

you glanced up at him, narrowing your eyes before taking a swig of your drink. “can i help you boys?”

the other three men gathered around, one of them–the youngest looking of the bunch–leaned on the bartop and waved two fingers in the air to gain the bartender's attention. “whiskey neat,” you heard him order. it made the corner of your lip quirk upwards. 

“that depends,” he drawled. “we’re lookin’ for a wanted man.” he slid a wanted poster onto the bartop and you turned to look at it. you traced over the sketch’s features and the man’s name, all the while you could feel eyes burning through you. 

you turned back to the man. “i don’t recognize his likeness, but his name sounds familiar.”

“yeah?”

“i think i’ve heard of him and his men causing trouble up the bend at the neighboring town. ‘bout 20 miles from here, give or take.”

he reached up and scratched his overgrown stubble. “well, that helped plenty. thanks…” he drew out the word, waiting for you to introduce yourself. 

you accepted his extended hand and told him your name, your eyes flickering behind him to the man in the red skull mask. “john,” he said back to you, his free hand tipping his hat down again but in a thanks this time. 

you wondered who these men were working for. they didn’t exactly look like your typical bounty hunters. they were far more intimidating than that. their gear more intricate and sharp. 

“gaz, pay the man. we’re leaving,” john said. gaz downed his whiskey and threw a few coins on the counter before following his friends out. 

you watched as they drew everyone’s attention as they strolled out of the saloon. you were torn back and forth between doing something very thoughtless and stupid. you looked at the bartender–someone who had listened to you drone on and on about how nothing interesting ever happened in this town. he gave you a nod as he wiped down a glass, a sly smile forming on his lips. 

“ shit ,” you muttered as you pushed yourself away from the bar and scurried outside. 

the men were mounting their horses off to the side of the building. your boots echoed off the wooden porch as you hurried towards them. the men looked up at you as you jostled down the stairs and to the dirt road. 

john raised a brow at you, a small smile creeping on his lips. 

“i, uhm…” you hesitated. you summoned the courage inside of you–mainly from the whiskey–as john patiently waited for you to speak. “i was hopin’ i could come along.”

john smiled at you, his rough hands holding onto the reigns of his horse. “and why might we allow that?”

you stood up a bit taller. “i know i’m a woman, but–”

“didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout you bein’ a woman.”

you pursed your lips. the men’s eyes tentatively watched you as they each half-focused on what they were doing before you came storming over. “i’m a good shot. i have nothin’ left for me here,” you gestured around the desolate town. “i’d like to help.”

john looked pensive. “no,” a deep, guttural voice said. your eyes flickered to the man in the skull mask and grimaced. 

“don’t mind ghost. he’s not used to new company.” ghost . a chill ran up your spine at the name. these were no average bounty hunters you’d be getting yourself involved in, that was definitely clear now. it was like john could read your thoughts. “can’t guarantee your safety… but i don’t see why not. ”

you nodded. “that’s alright. i know the risks.”

ghost grumbled something and rode off. the other three men ignored him, like they were used to his grumpy behavior. “this here is gaz and soap,” john said, pointing to each man respectively. 

you smiled at them. “got yourself a horse?” soap asked you, pulling his bandana down so you could see his mouth move as he talked. you nodded, your heart racing at the promise of adventure. 

you adjusted your hat as you followed closely behind the men on horseback. you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. the men were absent of all colors apart from ghost’s red skull mask. they each had on a black outfit, paired with black boots, and a black hat. you, on the other hand, had on a dirty brown jacket, brown boots, faded blue pants, and a sunbleached hat. you never would have thought your outfit would seem almost colorful. 

you galloped closer to john, al mazrah getting smaller and smaller as you rode further away from the town. 

“heard people talkin’ ‘bout some bandits robbing folk around the bend comin’ up.”

john glanced at you before shifting his eyes to soap who was in hearing range. 

“woulda been nice to know that a bit earlier,” a deep voice said. you turned to see ghost riding at your side, his eyes bright against the black on his skin. you felt your chest tighten. 

“i-i didn’t think of it. didn’t realize where we were till i saw the hill in the bend in the road up ahead.”

ghost grunted, looking over at john who sat opposite of you. “no use arguing ‘bout it now,” he placated. 

before he could open his mouth to continue, a gunshot rang in your ear. your eyes widened as you looked forward, stupefied. your ears rang and your hands came up to clamp over your ears before you yelped in pain. you could hear the soft rumble of more gunshots going off, but it was like you were stuck in your own little bubble. 

you pulled your hands down and looked at them, blood covering your left hand. 

oh my god , you thought. you were shot. 

you heard your name coming in louder and louder until you finally could hear clearly again. you looked up to ghost who was grabbing your arm and yelling your name. his other hand held his shotgun, extended as he pulled it, and shot a bandit in the chest, knocking him off his horse. 

“focus!” he shouted. you nodded and locked eyes. 

“i’m okay,” you said. you knew the bullet must have hit skin, or you wouldn’t be bleeding, but it was just a graze. 

“your gun!” he growled. 

you shook your head to come to your senses and pulled your gun from it’s holster. ghost’s hand left you and you felt a chill run through your arm at the loss. 

you aimed to shoot one of the bandits immediately before he had time to raise his own gun at soap. your eyes moved and you saw john jump off his horse and tackle a man to the ground, knocking him out cold with a few punches. 

soap was aiming up on the hill, taking out a couple of men stationed there. they were waiting for someone stupid enough to come trotting down their trail. you felt like shit for not remembering this crucial bit of information until it was too late. 

you shot another bandit, riding your horse further up the road. you spotted ghost as he shot down a bandit coming at him before loading his gun in no time at all, then shooting the man riding up on gaz’s tail. another man came up from behind him and ghost had his knife in his hand and sliced across the man’s throat before you could even blink. 

you were no stranger to violence, but these men were cold-blooded killers, you’d be stupid to not feel a trace of formidable fear run up your spine. 

the gunshots slowly simmered down and the five of you found yourselves coming back together. you slid off your horse as the others did. “jesus,” gaz mumbled, his breathing slightly heavy. 

ghost flung himself off his horse and stormed up to you, grabbing your arm like he did earlier, and turning you to him. 

“what–?”

his gloved hand came up to your jaw and turned your head so he could see the drying blood that coated your ear. “fuckin’ hell. you coulda been killed.”

“yes, thank you. so glad i have you to point that out,” you snarled. 

john, soap, and gaz were busy talking, likely going over the group's next course of actions, and paid no mind to you and ghost as he hissed at you. 

“what's your problem with me?”

ghost released you and took a step back. “what’s my problem with you?” it was just now that you could really hear his accent. he wasn’t from around here, that was for sure. 

you nodded. 

“not keen on having to babysit.”

your eyes blared with heat, your fists clenching. “fuckin’ hell! you barely know me! i’ve done nothing that says i’m not up for this,” you gestured around you, “so i got shot unexpectedly, i hardly think that's my fault.”

he just stared at you, which honestly, frustrated you even more. 

“you ever take that stupid thing off?” you asked, referring to his mask. god, you were proving him right–you were acting like a baby.

“why? you wanna know what's underneath?”

his husky voice made your chest flutter. there was something about the combination of his terrifying appearance, his deep voice, and the way he seemed utterly concerned for your safety. it was doing things to your insides that you didn’t appreciate. 

he leaned in closer. “does it unsettle you, pet?” he asked, referring to his mask. 

frankly, it did. his entire body was covered from head to toe. the only bit of him you saw was his eyes, and even those were darkened with charcoal. maybe you were stupid to trust these men. it was just hitting you now that you were with a group of insanely skilled men. alone . 

it was as if ghost could read the sudden hesitation and regret that filled your features. his voice was low as he spoke. “we won’t hurt ya.” you swallowed hard. you should leave while it’s still daylight. “ not unless you ask. ”

your jaw would have fallen slack if you weren’t wound up so tight from ghost standing so close. he slid past you and you turned, starstruck, forcing your feet to move so you were standing in a circle with the men. 

“we’re only a few miles out from town. and clearly, we’re at a disadvantage,” john spoke. “we should split up and surround the town, figure out if hassan is there. and locate his base. it’s our best bet.”

soap and gaz nodded. 

“good,” john said in response to the agreement for his plan. “i’ll flank west. soap you go right. gaz you can take the southern part of town. ghost, north.”

you looked up at john expectantly. he went to open his mouth–to invite you to tag along with him you assumed–but ghost beat him to it. “she’ll come with me.” it wasn’t a question. and you hated that it sparked something inside you. 

john nodded. “we got a few more hours of daylight left. let's go. we’ll convene in the center of town.”

you trailed behind ghost on your horse. you two had gone off the road and were currently riding over the rough terrain of the surrounding woods. the sun was slowly setting and you found it hard to see your footing with all the shadows the trees cast. 

“so what’d you want with this guy anyways?” you asked ghost, breaking the silence. 

“he’s the enemy,” he said flatly. 

you rolled your eyes. “yeah. i get that. but why exactly are you–”

he cut you off with a single finger to his lips, his eyes gesturing in front of him. you immediately went silent, slowly reaching for your gun. 

you both paused on your horses, sitting still, listening. you felt your heartbeat racing in your chest. 

that's when you saw movement in the distance. “ghost! behind you–”

your warning was muffled as a hand wrapped around your face, covering your mouth, and yanking you off your horse. you slashed back and forth, trying to fight off whoever had you in their grip. 

you kicked backward, hitting them in the knee, and they finally dropped you to the ground. “fuckin’ bitch!”

you spun around, stumbling to your feet and grabbing your gun out of its holster. it was just one guy. you could take him. 

as you raised your gun, another man appeared beside him. your eyes widened. okay, this was going to be harder than you thought. 

“i wouldn’t do that if i was you,” the other man said. 

you gulped. before you could fully raise your hand, a third man knocked the gun from your hand and twisted your arm, holding you against him. “you don’t like to listen, do ya?”

you showed your teeth as you struggled against him. you kicked and squirmed as you felt the air begin to slip from you. 

suddenly, the man around you went slack, his arm falling, and hot liquid trailed your back. you turned and watched the man sink to the ground, grabbing at the slit in his throat. behind him towered ghost. 

he had blood on his mask and he was breathing so rapidly you could see his chest moving up and down under all his layers. 

you didn’t have long to take him in before he pushed you aside and began fighting the other two men. you scanned behind you and saw two other bodies sprawled on the rocky ground. he had already taken down three men. your eyes widened. 

“go!” he shouted at you. in the quick second he was distracted, one of the bandits managed to get a swing in and hit ghost right under his jaw. 

you mustered the courage inside yourself and you sprinted at the three men. you jumped on one of them, flying to the ground with him, landing atop him. his hand reached out and wrapped around your neck but you were faster. your knife was already plowing into the side of his skull. his hand fell loosely to his side.

you huffed as you climbed off of him. ghost’s hands struggled but he managed to get them on the man’s head that he was fighting and in a quick and sharp twist, he broke his neck. 

you gasped slightly, the air falling silent around you two. his hands were clenched at his side as you both stared at one another among the carnage. 

“i told you to go.”

“and i didn’t want to,” you responded. how was he going to be mad that you helped him?

you huffed and bent over to rip the knife from the man’s skull and slid it back into its sheath. as you stood straight, ghost was pushing you against a tree. you yelped as he pinned you back. 

“these aren’t just normal men,” he growled. 

you searched his eyes. you hoped he couldn’t hear your heart racing. “we handled it, didn’t we?”

ghost shook his head in annoyance, his body still entraping yours. “and if we hadn’t? if you had gotten yourself killed?”

you gave him an exacerbated look. “then i’d be dead. i don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

ghost pushed away from you and began walking back to his horse. “i want you to tell me you’ll listen next time i tell you to go.”

you hesitated before you found your way back to your own steed. “why do you care so much?” you had come along to help. and that’s what you planned on doing. ghost wasn’t the boss of you. 

he didn’t respond and you rode the rest of the way in silence.

it didn't take much longer to get into town. and it took an even shorter amount of time to find out hassan wasn’t here. you and the rest of the men met up in the middle of town, just like john had told you. 

“y’all run into trouble?” he asked you and ghost, noticing the blood on both of your clothes. 

“nothin’ we couldn’t handle,” you answered. 

john’s gaze met ghost’s momentarily and he smirked. john could tell you were driving ghost crazy, just from your short interactions. he liked that someone was getting this reaction from him. it felt like so long since he had seen ghost have any sort of emotional response. 

“think we should camp here for the night,” john added. 

the five of you went into the town’s saloon and the men went straight to the bar. drinks were ordered and you shifted uncomfortably, playing with the glass of whiskey in your hand. 

two women dressed in silky gowns, the cut of their dresses low and tight enough to expose their chests, strolled up to your group. “haven’t seen you boys before,” the blonde one said. you were in saloons enough to recognize prostitutes when you saw them. 

“just passin’ through,” gaz spoke. the ladies smiled and one of their hands came out and traced along gaz’s collar. 

“you look like you could use a little pick me up,” she said sweetly. 

you saw where this was going and you felt yourself grow uncomfortable. “i think i’m gonna go to my room,” you mumbled. john saluted you off, his attention going back to soap as they talked. one of the girls made her way to ghost and you hated that a pang of jealousy coursed through you as she sat on his lap. 

his eyes flickered to you as the woman whispered in his ear. the saloon was filled with a cacophony of noise, music playing loudly, and the sound of the girls giggling. no one but ghost had even paid attention to you leaving. and you really couldn’t hold it against any of them. you barely knew them. you weren’t friends yet. 

you felt your breath hitch as the woman reached her hand out to trace ghost’s mask, his hand catching her wrist. you wanted to turn to finish going up the stairs but your eyes were locked in challenge with his. 

he nudged the girl off his lap and she huffed slightly before turning her attention to soap. your face felt inflamed as you turned and went up the stairs, slipping off into one of the rooms the lot of you had paid for. 

why were you so attracted to ghost? he was intimidating, scary even. and you had no idea what he looked like. not even his hands or neck.

you sighed as you cleaned up, stripping your clothes down into your undergarments, washing the stain from your jacket, and hanging it against the wooden bedframe to dry. 

the room was small but comfortable. you let your hair down and washed your face with the bucket of water. you wore your undershirt and underwear, everything else was either drying or removed so you could sleep comfortably. 

you were ready to slip into bed when you hear footsteps stumbling past your room. you wondered if it was one of the men. you heard a woman’s voice and that same, uncomfortable feeling squeezed your chest. maybe it was ghost bringing one of the women back to his room. 

you walked to your door and your hand hovered over the doorknob. you wanted to peek out, just to see. to see if it was ghost, or one of the others from downstairs. you were being crazy, you knew it. but you pulled the door open ever so slightly and peered out. you jumped, a loud yelp escaping you as a large ghost stood in your doorway. 

he deftly pushed your door open and made his way inside your small room. he kicked it closed behind him, his eyes trailing your exposed body shadowed by the small glow of the few candles by your bedside. 

“ghost,” you breathed, unsure of what else to say. you could smell whiskey on him as he walked closer. you looked up at him, his eyes piercing your own. his mask still had blood on it. and the way the shadows of the room illuminated and hid his features was haunting.

“were you jealous?” he said. 

you were taken aback but his question. you almost laughed. what on earth was happening? ghost just barged inside your room and was asking if you were jealous. of what? the woman on his lap earlier? why would he think that? 

“did you hear a woman outside your door and open it to see if it was me who was bedding one of the whores?”

your mouth hung open at his forward words. that was one thing you came to know about ghost: he said whatever the fuck he was thinking. 

“i… i…” you stuttered. 

ghost spun you around, slamming you against the wall, one hand coming out beside your head, the other on your hip. you were startled, unsure of what to say or do. ghost’s hand on your hip slid down to the apex of your thighs, slowly slipping between them and pressing against you. you gasped. 

“tell me. were. you. jealous? ”

you swallowed hard before nodding. “y-yes.”

you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he hummed. he rubbed you a few times over your underwear before backing away slightly and removing his gloves. your marvled at his hands before they were lost between your legs again. 

he slipped one into your panties and circled your clit. your hands finally came out and grabbed onto his shoulders, small little noises escaping you. 

“mhmmm,” he hummed, “already so wet for me, pet.” one of his fingers slid inside your heat painfully slow and your eyes rolled back. he pumped his finger a few times before pulling out of you. your eyes focused back on him as he nudged his mask up and slid his finger into his mouth. you could see the stubble on his chin and the soft pink of his lips. 

when he pulled his finger out, he spoke. “still want to see what i look like?” he teased. 

you nodded. he didn't move, waiting for you to take initiative. your hands crept up and you peeled his mask off–the cloth covering and the hard red skull. you tossed it onto the floor and were faced with a beautiful man. he was both rugged and pretty. it almost hurt to look at him. 

he had a scar running below his eye and one slicing his upper lip. his eyes were smoked out in black that smudged his skin and ran down his face from sweat. his hair was surprisingly light and soft looking. you couldn’t help yourself as you ran your hand up the back of his head and into his hair. 

you didn’t say it, but ghost could see the way you were taking his features in. you were pleased. pleasantly surprised. 

his lips came down on yours, crushing against you and pushing you flat against the wall. his mouth moved in sync with yours, making you groan against him. his hand slid into your hair and grabbed it, pulling your head back to expose your neck to him. he began to place kisses there and you felt your legs squeeze together. 

“never wanted anyone so bad in my life,” he grumbled against your skin. you felt your heart race at the confession. it made your head dizzy to think this terrifying killer wanted you . he wanted you so bad he couldn’t help himself. he was so set on you that he didn’t give a shit how many women came onto him downstairs at the bar. he just wanted to get up to your room and throw you against the wall. no stranger had even consumed his thoughts like this.

his rough hand ran up your front and grabbed the hem of your loose undershirt before pulling it off your body. he stood back and looked at you, licking his lips. 

before you had time to feel self-conscious, his mouth was diving for your chest and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. you let out a breathless moan, your hands running through his hair. his hands slid to your ass and squeezed, pulling your hips against him. you could feel him tenting through his pants. 

before you could even think, he was on his knees, yanking your underwear all the way down your legs. you felt a weird sense of excitement course through you seeing him still fully dressed, knelt before you, while you were completely naked. 

he grabbed one of your legs and pulled it so you bent it over his shoulder. then his face was pleasantly nestled between your thighs. he sucked and licked at you and you threw your head back against the wall in a cry. “g-god.”

you could feel him smile against you. his stubble tickled you as his tongue moved in and out of you, then traced you up and down, before repeating the actions. you actually felt like you couldn’t breathe. and when two of his fingers came up to slide inside you while his mouth worked your clit, you felt your chest tighten and a hot flutter pool at the base of your spine. 

“lemme hear you,” he grunted. you panted and moaned as he continued to work his mouth against you. it didn’t take long before you were shaking and crying out. your hands gripped the wall behind you, your nails digging into the wood. 

ghost worked you through your orgasm, lapping every drop of you up until you were begging him to stop. 

you didn’t have a real chance to catch your breath and really take in what was happening because ghost was shoving you down onto your knees before him. he was undoing his belt, his lips glistening. you hesitantly reached up and replaced his hands. he let you take over and you unbuttoned and unzipped his dark trousers, releasing his cock from its restraints.

you swallowed at his size, your eyes widening slightly. you heard ghost chuckle above you. annoyed that he was somehow getting satisfaction out of your surprise and tentativeness, you took him in your mouth without warning. ghost’s chuckle turned into a choked groan. 

you bobbed up and down, not taking your time at all, your hand coming up to wrap around the base of him to move in sync with your mouth. you could hear him panting as you slid your tongue up and down, swirling it around the tip before sinking him back deep inside of you. 

he swore under his breath as you pumped him a few times, kissing the tip of his cock already leaking with precum. when you took him in your mouth again, his hand fisted your hair and his hips swung forward, rutting himself into you. 

you braced a hand against his thigh as he took control, moving in and out of your mouth at a faster speed than you were taking him moments ago. he hit the back of your throat and you swallowed so you wouldn’t choke and his head flew back and he moaned uncontrollably. 

you coughed and tried to catch your breath as he pulled out of you. tears were running down your face and you wiped your mouth. his fingers slid under your chin and tilted your head up towards him. 

“you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, pet.” his thumb traced your bottom lip as he studied you, face flushed and glowing, tears making your eyes sparkle, your lips swollen and red, sat back on your haunches as you looked up. you were a marvel. 

he pulled you up and pushed you onto your bed. you watched as he crawled on top of you. your hands slid to his shirt and vest and you began to unbutton them. “want this off,” you muttered. 

his eyes searched yours for a moment, hesitating before he did what you wanted and stripped his top bare. it was hard to see in the dim light but you could tell he had scarring along his chest and back. you wondered if he was somehow ashamed or embarrassed by them and that’s why he contemplated removing his shirt or not. 

he settled back between your legs and you traced one of the scars on his shoulders before looking up at him. he was already looking at you, his eyes boring into your own. “how’d you get this?” you asked. 

he tilted his head, his hand brushing the side of your hair then cupping your cheek. “bounty hunting.” you looked at him expectantly. “he had me pinned down, tried to slit my throat. i kicked him from underneath and it made him miss. still hurt like a bitch though,” he said with a bit of faux mirth. 

you pulled him down to kiss you, his lips moving softer against you than earlier, gentle, but still just as hungry. 

he rolled his hips against you and you both groaned. “i need to fuck you so bad,” he said against your mouth. 

“so do it then.”

his eyes flared as he pulled back and looked at you. his hands shuffled his pants the rest of the way off and he lined himself up with your entrance. your hands wrapped around his back as he began to ease his way into you. 

you squeezed your eyes shut as he edged further in. he paused when he saw you. “am i hurting you?”

you shook your head. “no. keep going.” he gave you a questioning look, not sure if you were lying or not before he pushed all the way in. you both gasped as he sank as far as he could go. 

you both panted, trying to catch your breaths as he let you adjust to his size. he tested the waters by pulling out a little bit and pushing back in. he groaned deep in his chest as you spasmed around him, unused to someone of his size. 

“fuckin’ hell,” he said to himself. he knew he wasn’t going to last long. but fuck, he wanted to get you off at least one more time. 

he began to thrust in and out of you, doing a little more each time until he was almost pulling all the way out before thrusting back against your hips. 

the pain subsided and all you felt was ripples of pleasure as he moved inside of you. your nails dug into his back, your legs hooking around him and urging him to go faster. 

“you feel so good,” he mumbled against your neck. you mewled and threw your head back against the mattress as he relentlessly pounded into you, going rather hard now that you seemed to take him okay. the wooden bedframe crashed against the wall, thumping with the beat of his hips, but neither of you had it in you to care.

he picked up speed and you gasped, “ah!”

he stopped moving. “shit, did i hurt you?”

“no, no! keep going. move! fuck, please,” you said desperately. ghost chuckled before moving again, hitting you deep with each thrust. 

his smile quickly faded as he tried to stop himself from finishing too early. his hand slid between your bodies and began to rub your clit. your legs went outwards, letting him get you even deeper, and your walls spasmed around his cock. you felt yourself getting close. 

you were muttering all kinds of obscenities under your breath and ghost was growling and panting as he rutted against you. “you feel–fuck–so much better than i thought.”

your fingers ran through his hair and he kissed you again. “fuck, ghost,” you moaned. 

“simon.” you opened your eyes to look at him. “my name is simon.”

your eyes never left his as you whispered his name, the ‘n’ of it raising in octave as he thrusted into you. your eyes began to flutter again but one of his hands grabbed your jaw. “keep your eyes on me,” he demanded. 

his dark eyes were intoxicating as they glowed in the candlelight, the dark makeup around them making them that much more captivating. his hair was disheveled from all the times your fingers ran through it. you were certain you had never seen anyone so handsome. 

“i’m gonna come,” he growled. your breath picked up speed and your mouth hung open in breathy pants and little moans. 

“come in me,” you pleaded. before he could even respond, your soft voice saying something so obscene had him tumbling over the edge. his finger on your clit kept moving as he spurted inside you. 

you felt your legs shake and your walls clench down on him, dragging out his orgasm as he made sounds like he was in pain. 

you kept your eyes locked on him as you cried out, though you found it a difficult task. you felt his warmth fill you as you shuttered around his cock. he continued to thrust through both of your highs, a guttural groan escaping him each time your hips connected. 

when you both seemed to settle down, your highs coming to a blissful end, he collapsed on top of you, his face buried in your neck, breathing you in. 

your hands traced absentmindedly up and down his arm as he pressed himself against you. a few minutes later he rolled over and slid out of you, white seeping out and onto the sheets. he gave you a satisfied grin as he looked between your legs. you felt oddly shy.

he laid back into your pillow and pulled you against him, wrapping his arms tightly around you. you still couldn’t fathom the fact that this man who seemed to hate you for no reason was actually extremely attracted to you and just ravished the fuck out of you. and he was far kinder in bed than you would have imagined. 

you liked the feeling of security as he possessively held you to him, his hand in your hair. 

you tilted your head up to him. “you might want to go back to your room,” you muttered. 

“why?”

you felt your face heat. “we probably don’t want the others to find out…” this was a whole new type of situation for you, and you weren’t sure you wanted the whole group to know you and ghost just fucked, only hours after meeting one another. 

he laughed. “i think they already know, pet. we weren’t exactly quiet.”

“oh my god,” you said in mortification, bringing your hands up to cover your face.

[kedsandtubesocks]

your heart, a sonnet

Author!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: you discover there’s more to your boyfriend than you realize

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, surprise hidden identity reveal, grumpy but soft!Joel who has a secret love language of writing and love letters, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s), light discussion of reader and Joel’s insecurities, reader is addressed as darlin/honey/baby, a few spicy moments where Joel gets handsy

word count: 5.3k

a/n: I know, I know… this doesn’t seem like the typical Joel fic but i blame Pedro’s look at the Hollywood star walk of fame ceremony because it immediately made me think ‘oh that’s Joel’ and now here we are lol I couldn’t have done this without my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you and i can’t thank her enough along with @ahauntedcowboy for always letting me scream about all my wild ideas, and now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

You first met Joel at a bookstore.

The weekend after your birthday you went in to treat yourself and wandered into the records section of the store. As you flipped through the selections, the sudden sight of a Fleetwood Mac album had you inhaling sharply in surprise.

“S’good one.” That’s when the sudden smooth drawl of a southern accent floated out to you.

A few steps beside you stood an absolutely gorgeous man. The evergreen plaid button up shirt he wore flattered him as if it was made to be only worn by him. Rugged and distinguished, he seemed like a romance hero plucked straight out from one of the books among the shelves. You even blinked a few times wondering if he was real.

“If you don’t take it, might have to fight ya for it.” Even with his gruff low voice, an underlying teasing nature radiated friendly and light.

Now, many months later, a piece of you believes you might have fallen for him right then and there.

Joel is a rare beautiful soul of a man. He’s strong and a bit rough around the edges. He used to work as a contractor, even managed to build a very reputable business with his brother. His hard work remains effortlessly etched into his hands that now type editing books, his current job. He’s kind, so deeply loyal and loves fiercely.

With a yawn, you slip out of bed to pull on his cozy Texas longhorn shirt.

Heading downstairs, you walk among the clouds.

Instead of working at his office desk, Joel sits at the dining table typing away. Just seeing him wear his reading glasses sends a delicious desire trickling through you like a soft rain.

His dark earth eyes flicker up over the edge of his laptop and his gaze softens.

“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna wake up.” His wonderfully smooth as molasses voice makes you want to get caught up in its sticky sweetness.

“It’s not even that late. You’re one who woke up wanting to get work done on a Saturday.” You scoff playfully yet press your lips to his, a soft good morning greeting.

“Besides…who’s the reason I slept in so soundly, hm?” You smile against Joel’s lips that now twitch with a smirk.

His large warm hand slowly creeps up against your bare leg and rubs soft against your skin. After a few sleepy kisses, Joel’s tongue smoothly slips into your mouth trying to now consume you with a syrupy heat.

Joel pulls you down onto his lap. Your hands run up his chest to his cherub curly gray hair. His lips leave yours to start nipping at your jaw.

“What happened to working, cowboy?” You sigh softly.

“Come keep me company, darlin’.” He breathes out and any hope of maybe making breakfast is happily forgotten.

The rest of the morning unfolds at a nebulous pace you bask in.

When a late brunch is finished and you start cleaning up the kitchen, Joel’s warm solid hands map out your hips with other plans in mind. He slides behind you, a towering comfort that you lean back against.

“You’re extra handsy today Mr. Miller.” You tease.

“I can stop?” Joel offers while his scruffy beard scrapes a path against your skin. Against you, his broad shoulders, his wonderfully built frame, wraps you in his protective cover.

You hum a content no and move your hands over his now.

“Just wanna enjoy being with ya before I get busy.” Joel mutters while his hand slides down your cozy lounge shorts.

You had forgotten about his upcoming work plans.

You already want to mourn the impending weekend without him, but that can wait for another day. Especially when his thick fingers delicately, so sinfully, run up and down your underwear playfully touching you.

But then that weekend arrives and it brings a hollowness.

Lounging on the couch back at the apartment you share with your best friend, you force yourself not to text Joel again. He’s busy and you know this. So you vow to hold all your yearning and longing chained inside like a Jane Austen heroine.

“Are you done sulking?” Your best friend teases from the kitchen and you glare at her from the couch.

“I get it, being awake from your hunky handsome older boyfriend is hard. What will you ever do?” She snickers playfully. You’re tempted to throw the nearby couch pillows at her.

“What did you say his job was?” She asks.

“He used to be a contractor, but now he’s a book editor.” You answer.

“A hardworking hot Texas cowboy who reads and is a good man? Yeah, keep him locked up.” Your best snorts and you understand exactly what she means.

Fanged temptation claws at you more to text him again. Joel promised he would call you tonight and you don’t doubt him. But you didn’t realize how badly you’d missed him.

“Alright,” your best friend declares. “No more moping! I’m dragging you out with me to that book signing I’ve been talking about.”

She’s been obsessed with this apocalyptic novel series for so long. You happily tag along and even perk up when you see how excited she gets.

“And the author is finally doing a book tour! He’s kept his identity hidden this entire time so I wanna get a chance to maybe just even see him!” Your best friend gushes the entire time she drives you both to the bookstore the signing would be held.

Just so happens it’s the same bookstore where you first met Joel. A deep surge of affection swallows you whole and you float on blissful lovesick nostalgia.

Then the impressive line already waiting outside the front doors stuns you.

“I told you! It’s a big deal! Plus the series is so good.” Your best friend exclaims. She has been trying to get you into the series for a while.

The core of it focuses on two young girls who manage to survive an apocalyptic fungal zombie outbreak. The series follows the girls growing up, the journey to live with each other, and how it slowly bonds them as sisters.

“I heard they’re trying to make a Netflix series on it.” Your friend adds hopeful.

You can’t help but snag your best friend’s book copy she also hopes will get signed. Flipping through the front pages you land to the dedication page.

“To my baby girls, this will always be for you two.”

The author must have based the series on their daughters. That’s adorable.

Now curious, you flip to the first chapter.

“After seeing the end of the world, after witnessing the carnage of life consume itself, Ellie thinks she’s seen it all.”

Your best friend's sudden excited laugh pulls you out of the book. She’s talking with the other fans in line and you decide to join in.

Everyone discusses how worth the wait will be and how most of them even purchased the newest released book to make sure they reserved a slot for the signing.

“So why’s the author finally doing a face reveal?” You ask quietly not wanting to seem too out of place.

“So apparently,” your best friend begins in her hush about to spill the good gossip voice. “Some random ass moron on Twitter came out and said they were the true author. It became a whole messy issue of who it really was.”

Your best friend goes into more detail about how even a couple of online sites had articles on it.

“That’s awful.” You sympathize with the author. It must’ve been a headache trying to enjoy the peace of anonymity only for it becoming something used against them. You can only imagine how heartbreaking it was to see others steal and take credit for your work.

Like a surprise strike of lightning, an electric excitement suddenly breaks through the air.

Glancing up, you watch the line rapidly move towards the front doors. Time to go in.

Unfortunately, the main seating for the reading and q&a fills up fast. The bookstore though manages to wrangle the remainder of the crowd that can fit on the first floor towards a section where they can watch. It’s more than enough for your best friend who’s about to burst with anticipation. The buoyant commotion in the room even pulls you into its current and you get excited to see the new surprise author.

Soon a chic handsome older looking man, the moderator of the event, scurries to the front of the gathered group.

Warmly he begins the introduction to the writer.

First, writing sweet children’s books, stories for his daughters, those works became the author’s first publications. After that he navigated apocalyptic writing and his hit series has earned critical acclaim.

“Simply known as the anonymous writer J Miller. I’ve had the greatest pleasure to know this man as both his friend and now agent and I’m beyond proud to introduce him to you. Everyone please help me in welcoming J Miller!”

The thunderous applause and screams of excitement galvanize the entire room.

Then Joel walks out from the side.

Your heart instantly leaves your body.

For a moment you think your lovesick yearning heart has you slightly projecting Joel in any man you might see.

But the minute you focus, truly watch him slide into the chair, you see him.

Soft gray grown out curls, a strong beautiful nose, the patchy beard with the spots you love to kiss, and his reading glasses - the ones he’s so self conscious about because of how they make him look “so good damn old,” yet you love how they distinguish and elevate his appearance. You even remember the first time Joel wore them while he read waiting for you.

Truth makes its way into your heart.

It’s Joel.

The famous mystery author is your Joel.

“Thanks Frank.” And when he takes the mic, thanking his agent, his slick southern sunset voice melts the crowd.

“So, uh he’s gorgeous?!” Someone behind you squeals.

“Who would’ve thought he’d be this hot?!” Someone adds.

The whispers and mummers swarm like wasps buzzing all around you and you want to swat at them.

You can’t wrap your mind around this or the amount of emotions rushing through you. You feel separated from your body, floating detached from the scene and trying to gather yourself back.

Why didn’t he tell you?

Did he not trust you?

Joel suddenly laughs at something Frank says, that gruff wonderful laugh you hear after you show him a ridiculous video or his daughters tease him. It snaps you back into awareness.

“He’s about to read a section!” Your friend giddily whispers under her breath

Now you fully focus on this man, this almost stranger.

He’s so handsome it isn’t fair. He looks like a distinguished professor and your throat tightens seeing how broad his shoulders look in the dark casual suit jacket he wears.

“One of my favorite parts.” He admits quietly. “It’s when Ellie and Sarah realize they can make it outta Pittsburgh together.”

His daughters. He named his characters after them.

Joel clears his throat and begins.

He reads the passage with a magnetic cadence. The words slip from him like the smooth drink of whiskey that lingers on your tongue. When he finishes, an ache twists in your chest.

The applause he gets is shatteringly loud. The smallest bit of pride does float through you. But confusion drowns it out.

The floor now opens to quick questions. Some are about the book itself and the certain decisions made writing wise. Others are obviously about why he stayed hidden for so long.

That one perks you up quickly.

In such typical Joel fashion, he shrugs.

“Just couldn’t figure out Twitter, s’all.”

Everyone laughs at his playful reply and you do as well, but it sounds hollow and watery.

Soon enough the last question arrives.

“Do you ever see yourself writing for any other genres? I mean, we’ve seen horror and some moments of romance in the series. So I’m just curious if you’d write anything else?!” The lady asks brightly and now you simply settle your thoughts aside to listen.

Joel chuckes, a bit breathless and his gaze drops. This entire time he’s teetered between a sly southern charm that’s hypnotized you, to being guarded almost a bit nervous.

But now a boyishly hesitant grin falls over him and it’s so familiar.

”Uh, guess romance would be the next I’d maybe try.” He answers low, bashful.

The crowd erupts into fangirl like shrieks.

“Right?! I keep saying he doesn’t know the potential he has if he became a romance writer!” Frank, who has such a bright and lovely personality, adds.

Too many emotions clash in you.

You wonder if he wants to explore romance writing because of you?

Or a much harsher voice creeps out from the back of your mind whispering maybe you’re just being used for source material.

You quickly stomp those thoughts away.

The rest of the event shifts to the signing and you walk in a sort of guided daze.

“You okay?” Your best friend asks gently, noticing your slight mood change.

You don’t have the heart to tell her the truth yet. This was something she had been looking forward to and you didn’t want to ruin her excitement or experience. So you wearily just smile and tell her your head simply started hurting.

She sympathetically nods.

“Thankfully we won’t be waiting too long.” She adds and explains how the signing would be called by groups.

“We might not have gotten seats, but we did manage to sneak into group A for the signing.” She grins proud and it lifts your spirits.

The line curls against the sides of the bookshelves blocking your view of Joel. It becomes both a blessing and a curse.

Maybe you should wait in the car for his and your sake?

However, something inside you slightly bitter, raw and wanting answers, decides to stay. Besides you, your dear friend tries to keep herself calm but you can sense her bubbling nervous energy.

“I’d be calmer if he wasn’t so damn attractive.” She hisses and a jealous flare gently rises in you.

“Just think,” you reassure her. “He’s probably just as nervous as you.”

The relieved comforted grin she gives you makes staying worth it. But then all of that flies out the window the closer and closer you get to Joel.

Petrified dread claws its way in when you realize your best friend is next in line.

“He looks kinda familiar now that we’re closer.” The casual comment your friend says makes your heart sink.

“Maybe.” You mutter.

The times Joel has been to your place your roommate, your best friend, has been either at work or sleeping. You can only think of the first instant you introduce Joel to her when he picked you up on a date.

Your eyes flicker straight to Joel.

His hair seems so perfectly curled and his dark jacket highlights his wonderful grays.

Thankfully, any discussion of who he might look like gets squashed because your best friend gets called next in line. She turns to you squeaking excitedly and you beam back bright.

Joel lifts his eyes up, like a true southern gentleman wanting to give someone his full attention.

You wait on the side and watch the interaction unfold. Joel chuckles at something your best friend says and you’re glad she’s enjoying herself.

The book signing is done so fast. In a blink, it’s finished. With her newly signed book, your friend turns to you. She makes a slightly embarrassing but endearing noise of excitement that has you laughing.

That’s when your eyes flicker over to Joel and your gaze locks with his.

Instantly, Joel’s handsome face drops. His gorgeous earth eyes widen as he immediately recognizes you. His mouth falls open slightly and a flash of something close to fear fills the depths of his eyes.

He breathes out your name on a shaky exhale.

Everything seems to slow and stop. You don’t know what to say. So all you do is weakly smile.

The fleeting moment fades. The next group in line already giggles moving towards the table.

Time’s up. Turning on your heels to leave with your friend, Joel calls out to you, calls your name.

“Wait!”

You freeze.

Glancing back at him, Joel’s eyes pin you on the spot. An unspoken heaviness hangs in his deep eyes while he stares intently at you.

“It’s okay, we’ll talk later.” By some strange possession of slight bravery, or maybe delusion, you manage to speak.

But it’s all you can say and it’s all you can do before Frank, Joel’s agent, slides in to whisper something to him.

The moment again shatters.

Your best friend however grills you the rest of the day

That’s when you pull out your phone. You show her a photo you secretly took of Joel. It’s one where he’s adorably glaring at his ipad while he tried ordering take out for dinner.

Your best friend shrieks. “He’s your boyfriend?!”

He is.

Your boyfriend, Joel, is a writer, a very famous best selling author.

And that weight yanks you under a dangerous current you can’t seem to swim against.

Even after lunch, even getting back to your apartment and trying to settle your thoughts, your emotions are still so tangled.

You mindlessly scroll through your phone for the rest of the day and a blink, you notice it’s already early evening. Your plan to stay sulking is ruined when your phone starts ringing so loud.

It’s Joel.

“Hello?” You answer as composed as you can.

“Darlin?” His beautiful rich voice sounds hesitant and guarded.

“Hi.” You reply back quietly.

“Can we talk?” He asks just as low.

You agree, expecting to have the discussion on the phone. Except a knock taps on your apartment door and scares you right out of your body.

Ever proactive, ever the man who takes action, Joel stands waiting for you when you open the door.

You’re thankful more than ever that your best friend went to the gym for the evening.

“Wanna sit outside for a bit? Maybe get some air? S’really nice outside today.” He offers gentle.

He’s breaking up with you. That’s what your mind jumps to.

At least the weather is surprisingly kind this early evening.

You’ve sat out here on your apartment’s decent sized balcony with Joel before. But now the energy between you and him shifts strangely.

The sky stretches above a soft sherbet orange. A breeze comes, thankfully not too cold, but you think about maybe heading in to grab a blanket.

Joel however quickly slings off his jacket and drapes it over you. Always the gentleman.

The smell of his cologne, so comforting and masculine, wraps around you like a cloud.

You thank him with a soft small smile and Joel nods. Then he sighs and leans forward on the folding chair.

“Always loved the outdoors.” He begins, a small olive branch of a conversation to break the tension. “The girls and I love hiking the trails out by the lake. You ever been?”

You shake your head no.

“Maybe one day we can all go together.” The comment holds hope, a delicate thread of it. Yet you catch the hesitation.

Your eyes flicker to him, confused and cautious.

“Wait, you aren’t breaking up with me?” You blurt out, maybe just wanting to get it over with. You hate the way your voice cracks slightly.

Joel, with his beautiful concerned wide eyes, snaps his face to you.

“What? Honey no. Thought maybe you’d be the one maybe tryin’ to break up with me.” Joel, who Sarah jokes about how some of their neighbors question if he’s perpetually grumpy, stares at you with a tenderness that melts you to your core.

You can’t help but laugh watery.

“Why d’ya think I’d want to end things with you?” He asks patiently.

You can think of so many.

He’s a famous writer who’s about to maybe become an online sensation. He’s older than you, wiser and seasoned. He’s a full on father with young teenage daughters.

So you reveal your heart to him and all the fears that dwell in its shadows. You wipe away a few tears that manage to spill out.

Joel moves to hold your hands in his, a guarded warmth and protection keeping you stable.

With a heavy sigh, Joel’s attention fully focused on you.

“Honey…I’m so sorry for not telling you about my work, about me, sooner.” He earnestly apologizes and his words drip with comforing earnesty.

Now his gaze drops down to where your hand sits in his.

“Didn’t want it complicatin’ things with us. I knew I had to tell you eventually. But really…I was worried you’d see me differently once you knew. I know I don’t seem like the writin’ type anyway.” He mutters and you miss the hint of embarrassment coloring his tone.

You squeeze his hands.

This could never make you look at Joel in a negative light. If anything, you now feel proud knowing he’s a writer. You do explain your worries though and the ache you felt knowing he kept his from you.

“I know darlin’ and I promise,” he squeezes your hands now. “No more secrets between us.”

“You…us…means more to me than you’ll know.” He adds and you draw his hands up to your mouth.

You kiss his worn hands, his hard working beautiful hands that now move to hold your face so tenderly in their grasp. His thumb strokes your bottom lip delicately as if you’ll disappear from his sight.

“Can I kiss ya baby?”

You nod and in that same breath Joel pulls you towards him. He kisses you light, delicate enough that you feel so precious and treasured within his hold.

It seems like such a simple small kiss but it soaks into your bones.

You have so many questions. And as much as you’d like to make out with your boyfriend on the balcony, you’d like answers.

So you pull away and stand up.

Joel looks adorable as confusion paints his face.

“Don’t worry I’m just getting us a blanket.” You grin at him as you sling on his jacket claiming it as your own.

Blanket in hand you now curl up with him in the lawn chair, thankful for its sturdiness and cozy size. Your heart soars at how quickly Joel pulls you into his arms and basically onto his lap.

It feels like it’s been months since you’ve last been with him, or maybe that’s just how exhausting today was.

Joel sighs content and pleased once you fully rest against him. Hesitantly you ask if it’s okay if you can talk about him, about his work.

“Ask away honey. I’ll tell ya everything n’ anything.” He says firm.

You grin and your thumb starts stroking the back of his hand.

“So what made you decide to reveal yourself now? I heard there was an issue about someone saying they were you?” You ask, thinking of the discussions earlier with your best friend.

“Yeah..” Joel now sighs tired with an ancient weariness that settles over his handsome face.

“Sarah was the one who saw it first on Twitter or wherever it was.” He adds with a grumble.

Your heart aches knowing one of the girls saw it first.

“Didn’t help either that I ain’t online. So it became a whole fuckin’ mess we had to deal with it a couple months back.”

A light bulb goes off inside your brain.

“Was that when you said you had to visit a family friend out of town?” You connect the dots.

“Yup.” Joel nods. “Went to visit Frank, my agent, to try and figure this shit out. Could’ve let it all maybe die down but… ya know.” He huffs and you understand completely.

Joel is too stubborn, a bit too prideful. You almost snort amused just over the thought of him trying to let the situation blow over.

“Frank wants to meet ya by the way.” Now his voice dips with a bashful tone while his hands begin softly stroking your thighs.

“I’d love to meet him too.” You truthfully tell Joel.

“So, are you going to be online now? Should I start making secret accounts to follow you?” You now tease and Joel barks a beautiful amused laugh.

“Baby, I’m over 50. The only apps I need on my phone are candy crush and ESPN. Ain’t got the time or patience for social medias.”

Now you’re the one laughing.

It feels freeing, blissful, like this is the first moment you’re spending time with him all over again. Yet, there’s a deeper sacred connection that settles.

You can’t help but kiss him again and Joel eagerly welcomes you on his lips.

Now his lips move fervently, almost possessively, against yours, licking and trying to consume you. A small moan squeaks out of you.

“Come on baby,” he mutters, shifting you against his lap so that you fully feel his hardness straining against his pants. “Wanna taste ya.”

You’re thankful you manage to drag him back inside because you can’t imagine getting intimate with Joel on the balcony. Well, at least not yet. But that was a thought for another day.

Now in the afterglow’s soft relaxing peace you wish for more time with him.

But Joel must sense that ache too.

“S’late honey. Come back home with me. Even if it’s just for the night.” He mutters against your lips and you can’t deny him. You don’t want to deny him or the aching tug pulling you to him.

That night you fully embrace every inch of the man Joel Miller is and let a dizzying adoration for him swallow you whole.

The next morning, in the soft early still dark shade of his room, Joel wakes you with a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Gotta go meet with Frank for the day. I’ll see ya later, honey.” He mutters against your cozy heated skin.

You hum a soft agreement and sleepily wish him a goodbye before falling back to sleep. After that, you wake up later to a colder and empty bed.

Tugging on another one of Joel’s shirts you head downstairs already missing his presence.

And when you get downstairs, there on the table sits the most gorgeous floral arrangement. Its beautiful vibrant blooms make your heart flutter so fast against its cage.

A folded paper sits beside the flowers. Your name is written on the front in Joel’s slightly chicken scratch like handwriting.

You scramble fast to grab it.

A letter, he’s written you a letter.

“Honey,

I know I’ve already apologized and you’ve forgiven my old undeserving ass.”

You snort at that line but continue on.

“But I just wanted to fully apologize to you again. Might take me a while until I stop, but just be patient with my old bones yeah?”

You would. Your heart would and will always wait for him.

“Doesn’t seem like it but, I aint that good at talking about things, about my feelings. Shocker right?”

You smirk. You know he isn’t good with words - that’s why it almost feels ironic and a bit unreal that he’s an author.

You’ve discovered Joel shows his affection through his actions.

He spent an entire day rearranging a business scheduling conflict just so that Tommy didn’t have to worry about it. Joel never missed a single one of Ellie’s basketball games. Sarah only prefers a certain type of orange juice and Joel never fails to only get that one.

The first few weeks you started dating Joel you got sick with a nasty cold. He dropped off a whole bag of various items like tissues and cough drops. It was then you knew his heart shines through his actions.

He sometimes surprises you with an order from your favorite take out spot. He never lets you touch a door, always opening them for you instead. He’s the most generous lover and never fails to remind you of how tender, how consuming, his passion can be.

Joel does grumble, sometimes even seems grouchy, but he loves fiercely.

And now here he is showing you this side of him, this form of himself as a writer.

So you return to reading his letter.

“I got into writing because it helped me process all my emotions, my thoughts, the good and bad days - everything. And sharing my writing with others, especially with someone as important as you, still makes me feel so vulnerable. Funny how that worked out though huh? Guess fate wanted to drag my ass and make me face my fears and vulnerability and whatnot.”

Someone as important as you - The line makes your heart flutter.

“I know I told you the reasons why I didn’t tell you. But another reason was because I was afraid.

I was afraid of how much you mean to me. Telling you about this part of me would be taking a bigger step. And it scared me shitless. Cause darlin’ I haven’t felt this way in a very long time. Like, as Ellie loves to say, in such a long time that ‘dinosaurs weren’t even fossils.’

That makes you laugh a bit watery but you let his words carry you again.

“You make my damn heart race when you smile. I get so worked up just seeing you walk around my house as if you were always meant to be here. And I didn't want to lose that either. I still don’t.

You feel like a bright future, like waking up after a cloudy week and the sun greets you so nicely. And I just wanna stay in that warmth, your warmth.

Yeah sorry, that line might be too romance novel writer for my league…but like I said I’m thinking about it. And it’s because of you.

We said no more secrets yeah?

So I’m not lying when I say you’ve become so god damn important to me. And I wanna see more days with you, as many as you’ll have with me.

Fuck. This damn letter already feels too long and I hate my old ass for rambling and maybe not making sense. But I adore you honey. Plain in simple.

And I’m just gonna leave it at that.

Don’t miss me too much and I’ll see you soon.

P.S I picked that bookstore as the tour’s first stop here because it’s where I met you… and I’ll always be grateful for that

-Joel”

You now fight back an absolute ocean’s worth of adoration for this man.

Tears clog your throat and you try not letting them flood your vision, but it’s so hard. So hard when you’re this head over heels.

You don’t want to say it yet, and you don’t know if he’s even ready to say it, but the emotion filling you like a newborn star feels like love.

You barely manage to send out a text thanking him and hoping you’ll get to talk to him soon.

Joel, ever the endearing man he is, replies back with a simple heart emoji and you laugh.

You really might love this man.

And you hope, you so brightly hope, that he maybe loves you too.

You think of his book series, of how he became a writer simply wanting to tell his daughters stories. Those stories grew out of his love for them and now he gets to crystallize that among his pages.

You realize how writing truly is its own form of love.

After all, what better way for a writer to show their love, their heart, than to capture you in their words?

You think that’s where writers must live now, in the heart. Or maybe - your maybe gruff handsome one just does. And you happily welcome Joel’s place in yours and hope he resides there forever like a love poem etched into your very soul.

[sunshinemarauder]

Announcing... JILY WEEK 2024!

For the past two years, the lovely @thegobletofweasleys ran Jily Week. This year, she decided to step back from hosting it and passed it on to Kelsey ( @kay-elle-cee ) and me, who are so excited to share the Jily love with all of you! Jot it down on your calendar for August 19th to 25th!

To participate, post a creative work corresponding to the daily prompt - fanfiction, fanart, playlists, metas, moodboards, etcetera - anything goes! You can participate in as few or as many days as possible, but we challenge everyone to try and create something for every prompt, even if it's only a hundred-word drabble or a 5-minute sketch! Don't stress about meeting the exact prompt or the deadline - the most important thing is to have fun with it!

Remember to tag your works with #jily week 2024, mention @sunshinemarauder and @kay-elle-cee, and add any fic you write to the Jily Week 2024 AO3 Collection.

PROMPTS:

19th of August - Love is in the Hair

Featuring those iconic "wow"/"oh" moments: Lily getting distracted by that classic hand-through-hair moment from James, and James stunned speechless by Lily's ethereal redheaded beauty.

20th of August - Partners in Crime

Partners in Potions class, Aurors out on a case, fighting side-by-side in the Order, engaging in some espionage — these two do it all!

21st of August - In Vino Veritas

Those moments of suspicious-liquid-induced confessions, be they from Veritaserum, Felix Felicis, Amortentia, or a heavy pour of firewhiskey.

22nd of August - Flip the Script

Gender swap, blood status swap, talent swap, personality swap — take a characteristic from one and give it to the other!

23rd of August - Matchmaker, Matchmaker

These two are stubborn, and we all know it. Sometimes all it takes is a little bit of a... push, whether from meddling Marauders or matchmaking mamas.

24th of August - Inspired By...

Write the AU of your dreams! Set as a romcom, inspired by mythology, or staged in medieval times — we welcome it all. Jily in university; as celebrities, cowboys, or vampires; transported into Game of Thrones, The Hunger Games, Percy Jackson, or your favorite story — any AU you can think of, write it! Special shoutout to @maluceh for inspiring this prompt!

25th of August - Continuation Station

That sequel idea that's nagging you? That missing moment from canon or your fic that you're dying to revisit? The prequel to give some fun context to that one-shot? This is your sign to write it!

———

Feel free to message us or drop an ask in our inbox if you have any questions!

Let the games begin...

[gluion]

safe haven (how much longer do we have?) ➵ leehan

leehan x reader, slight sungho x reader

you can only hope for more tomorrows with leehan.

genre/warnings ➵ strangers to lovers, heavy angst with a happy ending, touch of fluff, gender-neutral reader, reader is shorter than leehan and sungho, lowercase intended, apocalypse au, hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), depictions of grief, descriptions of gore/blood, use of guns, allusions and discussions of suicide, minor character deaths, sungho is your ex, myungjae and taesan appearance :’), elements of the last of us (don’t support neil druckmann!), mostly written in past tense (because u’re remembering!)

word count ➵ 6.2k words

inspired by ➵ “anaheim” by niki, “are you happy?” by wavesmp3, “love wins all” by iu, episode three of hbo’s the last of us, and “you’re gonna carry that weight” quote from cowboy bebop

a/n ➵ i really love this piece with everything in me so i thought i'd release it to bonedoblr as well!! you can check out the jacob & taerae versions as well. if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

time was the one thing that occupied everyone’s minds. it held value, something that shouldn’t be wasted, and people revolved their lives around it.

questions flew around with every tick and tock—what day is it today? when’s your next doctor’s appointment? how long has it been since you’ve last seen your friends from high school? until when does this meeting last? 

as the hands of the clock continue to rotate, the calendar pages would flip along. birthdays were celebrated with every revolution as candles on cakes were lit up, awaiting the puff of celebrants as they wished for their desires. holidays were ones to look forward to; people dressed up to celebrate periods of the year that mattered to them while others slept in until noon. and days were spent counting down until graduations, where caps with tassels would fly to the expanse of blue and orange as cheers and sobs sound throughout.

but now, no one keeps track of time. clocks stopped moving and calendars weren’t produced annually. once the surge of the infected took over, grabbing on humans—taking them away from the lives they’ve lived—everyone ran like they were running out of time. with every second that passes, people are ridden with possibilities of how they might bid farewell to life itself—would it be through the hands of the infected or their own?

now, only one question echoes within their minds: how long do we have?

yet, the clock continues—tick, tock, tick, tock. it keeps going, and going, and going, like how everyone expects it. while everyone seemed to let time go, you still kept track of it all: birthdays, holidays, a graduation you never had.

the outbreak hit two years ago on the day of sungho’s graduation. cheers turned into screams. white togas and diplomas were splattered with red. the lively became lifeless.

you remember sungho’s hand in yours, fingers gripping you as if you were his life, as you charged out of the gymnasium, legs keeping up with the speed of his. you darted off to nowhere as images of the infected tearing people apart took up every block, all the way from skin to bone.

and while it was a rush of tragedies, sungho was the only hope you had.

“keep your eyes on me,” he glanced at you, “don’t look at them. only look at me.”

it was impossible to ignore the wails that filled your ears, but you would repeat his words—his soft-spoken voice—to drown them out.

by nightfall, you and sungho found yourselves in a motel room, skin cleaned from blood splatters and dressed in clothes that engulfed your figures, and in each other’s arms on a twin-sized bed. the duvet that wrapped around you two is thin, not at all keeping you warm for the night, but the warmth of sungho was enough to provide you a sense of security—stability amidst the ever-changing world.

he whispered into the crown of your head, words meant to dispel your fears, all while you sobbed into his shirt. there was nothing that he could do but stay strong for you.

and for a few days, that room acted as your safe haven. the time spent within those four walls is the life you imagined your future with sungho. it would’ve been in a two-story house with a garden where a singular orange tree stands, lounging on the couch as you played movies to fall asleep to, but all you had was an old room with a carpeted floor with unrecognizable stains and a bathroom unable to fit two.

yet, you would choose this over anything. even if it meant eating instant noodles for every meal or sleeping on a mattress that ruins your backs, you would choose this if it meant sungho would be with you.

still, time continues to move. sungho knew that you both couldn’t stay in that room or else the infected may reach you. so when you both went to bed on that last night, you outlined his features from the space between his eyebrows all the way to his lips, and you spent that time memorizing his warmth to carry with you for the rest of your life. you could only hope that he stays with you until the end.

after a month passed, you and sungho met jaehyun, an injured boy who only wanted to live. at first, sungho was hesitant to take the stranger in, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to live with the idea of abandoning someone in need. in a world where the infected have taken over, it only seemed right to help out others; save them from a fate they’re not ready to meet.

what started off as a pair turned into a trio. you’ve learned more about what it takes to survive in this life. long gone is the need for money to buy necessities; you need to scavenge for supplies if you want to live in an infected-ridden world. thanks to jaehyun, you and sungho got to learn about how to find them in every building that you pass on the journey.

but it’s not enough to know where to find food and bullets. sungho decided that it was only right to teach you how to use a gun. with every morning that came, you two spent hours learning how to hold, reload, and fire.

“don’t worry,” he told you as his chin hovered over your shoulder. you both stared at the tin can situated on a stack of boxes only a few meters away. “you won’t have to worry about fighting alone. i’ll be here with you.” as you exhaled, your eyes zeroed in on the target. “now, shoot.”

six months have passed, and you were happy that you were still a trio. jaehyun became your best friend over that time. his laughs were enough to shine glimmers of hope onto you. you were glad that you decided to help him off the ground and tend to his bullet wound that day.

until you found yourselves retreating from the horde of infected.

time moves at a constant speed but it can become swift if it decides to. when you and jaehyun reached the doors leading to safety, you remember seeing sungho fighting off those who were once like you, bullets firing at their heads. you remember your screams, telling him to run to you—go to where it’s safe—so that you can keep having tomorrows with him.

yet, sungho glanced at jaehyun, nodding at him before his eyes met yours. you watched how his mouth moved, a soundless three-word phrase leaving him before the doors shut before you. you would’ve pried them open but jaehyun kept his arms around you, holding you back. from letting the infected reach you. from letting sungho come back to you.

the wails that left you were enough to attract the infected. if only they were to burst through the doors, grab onto you and bring you to sungho, then maybe you would stop crying. yet, jaehyun dragged you away. you never saw him as your best friend after that.

a month passed, and you still refused to talk to him. the boy tried to strike up a conversation with you, trying to earn your laugh like he used to, but he was only met with a cold shoulder. with every brick he put, you smashed your sledgehammer against it, dispelling any hope he had in rekindling his friendship with you.

the two of you learned to live in silence, fighting for survival while dealing with the loss of the one who would always bring you both to safety.

until you came across another boy who pointed his gun toward you. his defensive demeanor reminded you of sungho, and you wondered if this was his doing—his reincarnation. but before he could pull the trigger, jaehyun saved you from meeting your fate.

somehow, the duo had turned into a trio once more. you still refused to talk to jaehyun but would eavesdrop on the conversations he shared with the stranger. you learned that the new addition is named leehan.

but even the stranger wasn’t enough to fill the void that sungho left. with every nightfall, when the soft snores of the two boys filled your ears, tears streamed down your face as sobs threatened to spill out. the palm of your hand wasn’t enough to muffle your weeps. behind your eyelids, sungho’s last words to you play on repeat. the ones he failed to say. the ones you’ll never hear again.

maybe if you didn’t leave that motel room then he would’ve still been with you, arms finding their place around your waist as he trails kisses all over you. if the outbreak didn’t happen, then maybe you would be living in that two-story house with him. maybe you would wake up to a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice by the bedside table and the warmth of his lips on your forehead. and maybe you could finally tell him yes before he slips the silver band on your finger—you could’ve grown with him until your hair turns grey.

the weight you carry never got lighter with time. the void continued to consume you whole with the goal of ripping you apart. as another month passed, another life was lost—not to the infected but to the raiders.

“myungjae, you have to stay with me.” those were the first words you told him since sungho’s death. crimson continued to spill out of his abdomen through the gaps between your fingertips in the same way tears flow out. “leehan! find gauze, betadine, anything!” you never glanced at the stranger, keeping your gaze on your best friend whose eyes continued to droop.

still, jaehyun caressed your face, thumb wiping teardrops. as he slowly entered territories that you both knew he would never escape, he grinned at you one last time. “i missed hearing you. i’m glad you’ll be the last thing i hear.”

but you tried to tell him that you couldn’t be the last voice he heard. it should’ve been with someone he can imagine his future with, maybe in a two-story house or a cramped flat in an apartment complex. he deserves more tomorrows in the same way sungho did.

but time continues to move. it took him away from you in a matter of minutes, slithering away without a second thought and no regard for the value of life, and all you were left with was his temple—still. lifeless. as you sobbed into his shirt, still holding the wound, the warmth of leehan’s hand stayed on your back, moving along with your wails. 

now, you carry the loss of two. it never got easier with time.

leehan still sticks with you. it only seemed right. stay strong in numbers as you wander off to nowhere, grasping at the loose ends of survival.

two weeks have passed. you and leehan got used to the new dynamic; while he went hunting and you were tasked with scavenging, you both played your roles in combat, ready for any raid or horde. when night comes, you both took shifts, keeping watch while the other got some shut-eye.

until that one evening.

you recall the sounds of wood crackling from the fire. it stood strong against the breeze—burning, shining—surrounded by greens that latch on browns. hues of amber cascaded over your skin, painting you with warmth—it’ll never compare to the one you craved. your eyes drifted to leehan who sat across from you, his eyes trained on the fire as he rubbed his palms together. perhaps he craved the same type of warmth you longed for.

“we used to be three.” his eyes snapped towards yours. “before you came, we used to be three—jaehyun, me, and—” it rose in you like bile, wanting to escape but never leaving. “we were three then.”

you glanced at the wood that continued to burn. “we met jaehyun a month after the outbreak, spent six months together until—” the claws of the void struck against your throat, holding you back from sharing with the stranger what your life was before he came. while you never found the right words to say, leehan never pushed, letting you say what you wanted to share while filling in the blanks on his own. 

“i resented jaehyun after what happened.” you moved your gaze to leehan whose eyes never left you. “refused to talk to him. refused to forgive.” and you remember how you hesitated, taking a deep breath in before sputtering out the next sentence. “refused to accept.”

nine months ago, the outbreak didn’t happen. nine months ago, you were attending sungho’s graduation. nine months ago, you two were imagining your tomorrows together—for eternity.

and those nine months fractured all hopes and dreams; the glass is now littered with cracks, ready to burst into shards.

“but i think about the last time we saw jaehyun,” the image of him sitting in front of you all frail, treading the line between life and death, flashed in front of you; it’s quick but strong to remind you of what’s lost. “and i wish i could’ve learned how to forgive during those two months.”

but it was an impossible request. how could you ever forgive a boy you’ve known for only six months for taking your future away? how could you forgive a world that took him away? how could you forgive and live?

and still, you did.

you left it at that. they were enough. so when you told leehan that you’ll take over tonight’s shift, he never asked to hear more. instead, he laid near the campfire as you kept an eye out.

and once enough hours have passed, you allowed yourself to sob like other nights. the breeze that passed through branches reminded you of jaehyun; rustling leaves imitated the giggles of the boy you’ve only known during the apocalypse.

the wind that grazed against your skin should’ve been a nuisance, but the warmth of the fire wrapped you up like the duvet in that motel room. and you don’t complain—it’s the only part of sungho you have left.

the heat was enough to last you the night, but the chill of reality sent you back to the void.

that night, leehan listened to your sobs. not one of you got enough rest for the journey.

another two weeks went by. you two got into a better groove of the routine; instead of hunting and scavenging in silence, you and leehan found yourselves talking more about your lives before the outbreak. you learned that he’s only a year younger than sungho, and he shared that he had plans to pursue music.

“if the world finds a cure to this mess, you have to promise me that you’ll get me front-row tickets to your first show.” it was a joke. in what world could there be a cure for the infected? but the wishful thinking of what could be—what could’ve been—is all you had left.

still, leehan promised you that.

that night, you two stayed in the living room of an abandoned house. instead of lighting the fireplace, candles were placed on the coffee table. they shined in the middle of you two, you who stayed on the couch and leehan who sat on the mattress lying on the floor.

“where were you?” his eyes met yours. “on the day of the outbreak, i mean.”

he leaned back, hands resting on the mattress before he looked once more at the wax that continued to melt. “i was there for my upperclassmen’s graduation.” it hit you like sudden downpour on a sunny day. “i knew people in the music program and we were going to celebrate after. until the infected came.”

and when you said the name of the university, his gaze met yours as his shoulders stiffened. “m—my sungho.” it’s the first time you spoke of his name, and the sight of leehan’s eyes widening over it was enough to speak for himself.

“i—i didn’t know,” he whispered, but his words were loud enough to shatter glass. “i only spoke to him a few times. he talked about you with so much love.”

your heart skipped beats; it should’ve been enough to send you off into the same territories where sungho and jaehyun now stay. your mouth turned dry as leehan’s voice morphed into radio silence.

before you knew it, the two of you left the information to hang in the air as you tried to drift into slumber.

the clock continues to tick. minutes turned into hours; time moves like it usually does once more.

yet, you were stuck in the same gymnasium, fixing sungho’s toga as you scolded him about how wrinkled it’s become—hey! you’ll go up on stage soon. we can’t take pictures of you like this. despite your words, he smiled at you before grazing his lips on your temple—his silent way of telling you the three-word phrase.

in a split second, you were off the couch. you barged out of the house, clutching your chest as the knot constricted your throat, and your feet dragged you off to nowhere. every sound has turned into a buzz—only the voice of sungho being the one clear thing amidst the hysteria.

before you knew it, you stood before a horizon of green. it takes only one step into the woods, alone with no protection, for you to meet your demise. you would’ve charged into it in the same way you would’ve charged out to save sungho that day.

all it takes is one step, and—

“what are you doing?!” a pair of hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you around until you were face-to-face with the last form of life that you know of. his breaths were short as his fingers dug into your arms. “you can’t just rush out in the middle of the night! i woke up worried sick.” his eyebrows knitted in frustration. confusion. distress. the voice was caught in your throat.

how does one begin to unpack the baggage they’ve learned to carry? when the items they bring are revolting, rotten, repugnant, how does someone not feel shame about showing all the tattered-up objects?

how do you learn to open up to someone you’ve only known for three months?

your hands trembled; you’ve carried the weight of it all for too long.

in that split second, your nose met the juncture between his chin and shoulder. the material of his shirt against your cheek allowed you to bathe in what you miss—the hand of jaehyun that once caressed your face. the lips of sungho that lingered with every kiss. all the moments that you hoped time would freeze just for you lives in the boy you stick with for survival.

all it took were leehan’s hands to rest on the lower side of your back for the tears to begin their stream. the sobs spill out. for once, they weren’t muffled like those other nights. they sounded throughout the space that surrounded you two. you allowed yourself to drop the baggage only for a few minutes.

leehan took you back to the house that night, allowing you to sob about all that you’ve kept under the wraps.

when sunrise came, you found your legs mixed with his as his arms remained wrapped around you and your ear pressed against his chest. the sound of his breathing is the one reminder of what a safe haven is. 

half a year went by. leehan still stays by your side. the baggage got lighter.

it should’ve been the same routine; leehan goes off to hunt while you scavenge, and you’ll take turns on the night shifts. but that night shifted something between you two. stolen glances. quiet giggles. linked fingers.

two months have gone by. the moon shined through the trees, their shadows cascading on an abandoned cabin that you and leehan decided to stay in for that night.

it should’ve been the same set-up as other nights spent in abandoned houses; you’ll sleep on the couch while he sleeps on a dragged-out mattress. instead, he sat with you, your back resting on his chest along with his hand staying on your arm. 

a lit candle rested on the table; its amber tones painted leehan’s skin—close to the fruit tree that stands in your lost future.

“what would you do if there is a cure to this?” you watched how his fingers danced across your skin, calloused from plucking guitar strings or wielding a gun. 

leehan’s chest rumbled against your back as he hummed. “what would you do?”

a giggle left as you looked at the boy. “i was the one who asked you first!”

he shot you a grin as his hand slipped into yours. the candle continued to burn; it did a poor job of giving you light and warmth that night. but he did it all—one smile. one exhale. one indication to show that he lives.

“travel, maybe? or i’ll go back to writing music.” you nodded at his plans before looking back at the light source. “what about you?”

“i don’t know.”

there was no point in going back to university after such a catastrophe. if anything, the year spent surrounded by the infected, fighting for survival, has shown you that there’s more to life than the perpetual cycle of working a nine-to-five.

so…

“i would settle down if i could.” the wax continued to melt. “i think i’ve seen enough of the world. for once, i just want to stay home. indulge in my hobbies. live the life that i want.”

his breath grazed the top of your head. “with someone?” and suddenly, you became aware of it all—the heat that emitted from his palm. the movement of his chest against your back. the gravity of his question.

the words get caught in your throat. your heartbeat rang in your ears. for the first time since sungho’s death, you considered it. 

“with someone.”

before you knew it, his hand caressed your cheek. you were forced to meet his eyes which glistened with devotion. he leaned forward, his breath grazing your skin while you held in yours. you didn’t miss how his gaze flickered to your lips before he met your eyes once more.

then, he held back. it’s a choice, one only you can make. but when your eyes shut, it’s a quiet plea—a silent yes.

his lips met yours. 

the warmth that blossomed in your chest wasn’t like the one in that motel room. not like the embrace of the one you’ve lost. it was one of all seasons—changing with the weather, bringing comfort throughout the everchanging times.

it’s a perpetual cycle of fighting for survival.

you’ll endure through it all.

a month passed by, and you came across another boy on the journey. he’s named taesan, and he told you of a safe haven located in the town that you and leehan grew up in.

for a moment, it was an internal debate—should you go back to where the downfall started? can you go to where the memory of sungho still lives?

but one glance at leehan was enough to settle it. the three of you embarked on your journey.

you remember that day. it was a walk with the goal of finding a car to make the journey back an easy one. the heat of the sun prickled against your skin but you still kept your arms crossed.

“are you two together?” taesan asked, causing you to whip your head towards him. your eyes met leehan’s for a split second—confusion. dejection—before they landed back at the stranger who kept his eyes on the path you took.

“no, we aren’t.”

for the rest of the journey, it was quiet.

sundown came, and you found yourselves in a convenience store for that night’s shelter. leehan was in charge of taking the night shift, allowing you and taesan to rest up. when the stranger went off to sleep on the makeshift bed, you were left alone with leehan.

you watched how he cleaned his gun with a rag stained with dark splotches. the moon gleamed through the window—it can’t compare to how leehan shines.

you needed to get some sleep, is what you tell yourself. with one spin, you were about to make your way to where you’d sleep for that night.

“are we really not?” you halted in your tracks. “did it mean nothing?”

not a single answer left your mouth. your eyes remained straightforward as you refused to meet his gaze.

the warmth vanished with a lack of an answer. instead, it was replaced once more with the cold—the void—that attempted to consume you whole.

and when a scornful chuckle left leehan, you knew that you’d burnt the bridge. you walked away, leaving him to do his job, bidding farewell to the closest form of a safe haven.

two weeks went by and another goodbye had to be done. taesan stood in front of you two, a grin on his lips while tears streamed down his face. his arm was out, revealing a bite mark. the veins near the wound had already turned black. he would’ve turned in a few hours.

“go out.” those were leehan’s first words to you since that night in the convenience store.

you remember the last thing you told taesan before you left the room—you’ll get to your safe haven. the sobs that spilled out of him are ones you’ll never forget. and when you shut the door behind you, it took 20 seconds until you heard a gunshot. 

the weight got heavier once more.

another two weeks went by, and you and leehan found yourselves standing in front of the remains of a safe haven. the fences were torn down. streaks of dark red littered over pavements. not a single sight of a soul lived.

still, you two trudged your way through the town, all the way until you reached leehan’s house. like others, his was abandoned. the cream walls were littered with red strokes and vines. when you both entered, you didn’t miss how leehan’s eyes lingered on a photo hung on the wall—a picture of him and his parents.

you gave him all the time he needed to explore, to sit with the mess, while you stayed in the living room. as you sat on the couch that had gathered dust, you caught sight of a bowl of plastic produce that rested on the coffee table. it held a variety of fruits whose paint had chipped: watermelon, chestnut, and fig.

but amidst the crowd of old, torn-down, plastic fruits, a pear and an orange leaned against each other as grime collected on them. once your hands reached out to the fruits, you pulled them apart—a mess of green and orange stained the two.

he came back to you in 30 minutes, eyes glistening with tears. yet, he only gave you a nod, and you two went to another house. 

you then stood in front of your old house with leehan by your side. weeds grew in the front yard, and the wooden exterior has turned a few shades darker. silence settled between you two. 

to be back in a place you grew up in, where all your memories live, is a process—a grieving one. being face-to-face with the damage brought by the infected can only remind you of what you had and could’ve had.

and once you made your way to your childhood room, you were reminded of all your hopes and dreams before the outbreak. dust rested on top of books. the laptop on your desk had no charge. potted plants have withered.

when you approached the picture frames found on your table, your hand darted out to a photograph of you and sungho. there was no occasion when that picture was taken—the fact that you two were together was enough for it to be remembered. memorialized.

as you made your way back down the stairs, you saw leehan crouched in front of the console table with eyes trained on photographs. “was this your high school graduation?” you approached him and saw the picture he was referring to, you who stood beside sungho with a big grin as his lips were on your temple.

“yeah,” you said as you crouched beside leehan. “we knew each other back when i was a freshman.” your fingers trailed on the wooden frame, gathering the dust before flicking it away. despite your efforts, it was still covered in grime, but you didn’t mind. 

“and you stayed together since?” all you did was hum. “did you find anything up there?”

for the first time since you entered your old house, you looked at leehan and he met your gaze. your eyes trailed his features. the eyes that speak of a thousand words. the lips that once kissed yours.

and it hit you like the gunshot that filled your ears, the breeze that rustled the leaves that one night, the doors that shut close. it was 20 months since the outbreak happened, 13 months since you lost sungho, and 11 months since jaehyun told you his last words.

but it was also 13 months spent with leehan, choosing to survive with him. 

“yeah.”

you found a lot of things within those four walls. there were books you once read growing up, stuffed toys you slept with, and the one picture of you and sungho; they’re the remaining pieces you have left of a life that was good.

you would’ve kept it all, rebuilt the life that was ripped away by the hands of the infected—

“but nothing to hold on to.”

they’re memories, ones you’ll carry with you, but ones worth moving on from. 

“oh,” he said as his eyes still held your gaze. “okay.”

and with one exhale, you said, “let’s rebuild it, just a place for us two.”

it was a whirlwind of emotions in leehan’s eyes, ones you can’t identify. for a moment, you thought he’d say no. maybe he decided that 13 months was enough. one more day with you would be too much, and—

“okay.” when his hand reached out for yours, linking fingers with you like all other times, you gave him a small smile.

when you and leehan stood up, you made your way out of the house, off to find a place just for you two—a safe haven to last you many tomorrows with him.

a month passed. the safe haven was rebuilt; the fences stood strong with electrical wires and barbed wires, and the town was cleaned of all remnants of grime and blood. the two of you took up different tasks ranging from cleaning, cooking, building, and maintaining the haven.

but while you were okay with a knife, accidents did happen. “fuck!”

“what happened?” you remember how leehan came rushing in, only to see you pressing on the skin around the cut on your finger.

before you knew it, you were sitting down with him as he wrapped gauze around the wound. “leehan, it’s just a cut. i’ll be fine.”

“still, i don’t want you getting hurt.” you watched how his eyes were focused on treating your finger. “i’ll be in charge of cooking now.”

you shook your head. “no, i like to cook. i want to cook for us.” his gaze then met yours, his filled with worry while yours filled with determination. they flickered back to your finger and his hands busied themselves with covering it up.

once he was done, his hand continued to hold yours. you remember the heat of his thumb as it drew patterns on your hand. he’s etched himself onto you.

his eyes met yours once more, and he said, “okay, just let me help out.” all you gave him was a nod.

another month went by, and you woke up to the sound of gunshots. you remember how hazy your vision was that night, fresh from sleep but panic coursing through your veins. and when you looked beside you to only see an empty spot, you didn’t think twice about rushing out of bed.

when you exited the house, you saw leehan holding his gun, firing at the people who attempted to tear down the haven’s fences. “leehan!” he looked back at you and you caught sight of the crimson that poured out of his abdomen.

another gunshot was fired, grazing leehan’s leg, and he fell to his knees. you ran to him, reaching out to rest your hand on the wound as you began to sob. “fuck! you have to stay with me.” with his arm resting around your shoulders, you dragged him back to the house.

you set him on the table and moved his hand to hold where he was shot. “hold it.” you rushed to where the medical supplies were stored and gathered whatever you could hold. when you got back, you saw how blood continued to spill out.

you got to work, focused on trying to patch him up, making sure he stays. “you can’t go. i won’t let it happen.” and while your hands busied themselves with treating the injury, you remember how leehan’s hand caressed your cheek, thumb wiping away the spilled tears. 

“in the basement, there’s a piece of paper that has all the codes. if you ever—”

“no, you’ll be okay.”

still, he continued to talk. “if you ever forget the codes, you can always look at the paper. don’t forget that you need to always check the water system every two days, and—”

“leehan!” you croaked out his name in between sobs. “you’ll be okay. you have to, okay?” the more he went on about what to keep in mind, the baggage got heavier. “i can’t do this without you. i won’t allow it.”

because 15 months ago, you would’ve bid farewell to the mayhem. 13 months ago, you hoped for time to drag you away. 12 months ago, you would’ve walked into the forest. but it’s been 22 months, and you were still walking on this earth, choosing to live amidst the chaos—so long as leehan was with you. 

and when you leaned your forehead on his, eyes closed, you felt his breath graze against your lips. “i need you.”

all it took were three words from you. “okay.”

it’s been two months since that happened. the safe haven was rebuilt once more. you and leehan fortified the defense system, hoping they’ll be enough to keep any infected and raiders out. all that matters is that you two were protected—safe—from the chaos.

now, you sit on a couch as you flip through the pages of a book you didn’t have time to read before the outbreak. when all responsibilities vanished, you were able to find enough time to do things you couldn’t do then.

you were ready to get yourself sucked into the world of the novel, but leehan came into the living room with his hands behind his back and a small smile on his lips. “do you remember what you made me promise you before?”

you frown at him, confused, until he shows you an acoustic guitar. “oh my god, you found one?” you put the book on the coffee table.

he takes a seat beside you, body facing towards you as he rests the instrument on his lap. “here, front-row tickets to my first show.” you almost laughed because this is no stadium or club, but a home—one you built with him.

it takes only one smile from him for you to hold it back.

“any song requests?” he strums on the guitar strings, perfectly in tune. it’s almost as if he tuned it before coming to you.

a hum leaves you as you rest your head on your hand propped on the couch. “whatever you want to show me.”

it takes him a few seconds, fingers fiddling with the strings, until he figures out what to play. when he sings out the words—dearest, darling, my universe—you melt like the candles you lit up those nights. as he continues to play a song of a world in hysteria but a love that endures, that’s when you realize what you’ve had all this time.

time is the one thing that occupies your mind. it holds value, something that shouldn’t be wasted, and you learned to revolve your life around it.

it takes you two years to figure out that life doesn’t end after the outbreak—and 17 months to realize that your safe haven is not a two-story house with an orange tree in the garden but the boy in front of you.

when you lean closer to him, his fingers falter, messing up the chords. your hand reaches out to caress his face as your eyes flicker to his lips. you don’t miss how leehan holds his breath, how he stops playing the guitar, how his eyes look back at yours—it’s a slurry of warmth. tenderness.

“i love you.”

all it took was a three-word phrase from you for him to close the distance.

the warmth that spreads within you is like the one you experience in the abandoned cabin. but now, you’re full of hope—a reason to stay—in an infected-ridden world.

now, only one question echoes within your mind: how much longer do we have?

an eternity is what you hope.

tag list: @onedoornet @kflixnet @loserlvrss @lionhanie @nicholasluvbot

@blumisiu @0310s @icyminghao @shegotthewoobies

[shuadotcom]

Room with a View (M)

🩸Pairing: Vampire!Kim Mingyu x Human fem!Reader x Vampire!Jeon Jungkook

🩸Summary: “Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.”

🩸Genres & AUs: Smut, supernatural au, vampire au, pwp

🩸Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

🩸Words: 6.3k

🩸Warnings: Mention of alcohol, profanity, mentions of blood, shameless Mean Girls references

🩸Smut warnings: Threesome, vampire kink ig, oral (f & m receiving), semi-public sex, window sex, fingering, anal fingering (f receiving), biting, marking, dirty talk, pet names (baby, little mouse), unprotected sex (vampires can’t impregnate humans in this world bc i said so!) rough sex, double penetration, using cum as lube

🩸Note: For @kpopsblackcreatorsociety 's Blood & Bane event! Vampire Prompt: “Did you just fucking bite me?!”

This AMAZING banner is by my bby @playmetheclassics / @classicscreations and beta’d by my other bby @the-boy-meets-evil! A million smooches for you both!! 😙❤️ Oh and tagging the lovely @gyuwoncheol ❤️

“I’m a mouse, duh!” You’ve had to clarify that at least ten times tonight, much to your displeasure. You assumed that the black nightie, silver calf-high boots, and mouse ears would make your costume obvious, but so far, it’s seemed that everyone you’ve run into at this party either has never seen Mean Girls or doesn’t remember it. It’s a tragedy, truly.

It doesn’t help that most of your time at this party has been spent with just you by yourself. When only one of the four parts of a group costume is together, the whole idea doesn’t make the same impact. But, Jihyo and Jeongyeon, the Regina George and Grethen Wieners of your quartet in that order, disappeared together fifteen minutes after arriving. They’re likely hooking up in a room somewhere, still trying to hide from you and Sana that they’re dating. That’s added to the fact that Sana, the Cady Heron of the group, is spending time with the busy boyfriend she hasn’t seen in weeks. They had offered to let you hang out with them, but the last thing you wanted to be was a third-wheel.

That leaves just you, lingering by the back door with the same wine cooler you’ve been nursing for the last hour. 

You don’t know many people here except for the host, Dongmin, and a few of your co-workers you’ve recognized, but aren’t close with. He’s the sweet, wealthy vice president at the new company you work at who always goes out of his way to greet you when he sees you in the office.

You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times at the few company events you’ve been to and during shared elevator rides, so you were surprised when he invited you to his annual Halloween party, but you wouldn’t dream of turning him down. You also knew he had a good amount of money, what with the company doing so well, but you had no idea he was this well-off. 

His house has two floors and all of the rooms are spacious, bustling with people in Halloween costumes, dancing, talking, and knocking back drinks. Once you look past all of the partygoers, the view from the backdoor looks out at the city, all the lights in the distance looking magical from where the house sits on a hill in the nice, suburban part of town.

The view is honestly the most interesting part about tonight. You typically love Halloween, but this is the first party you’ve been to in a few years, plus you’re not friends with anyone else other than the three girls you came with. So far, this Halloween has been extremely uneventful.

“Karen Smith from Mean Girls, right? You’re a mouse?” A male voice you don’t recognize catches you off guard as you spin to see who it is.

To say you’re breathless at the sheer presence of the two men you come face-to-face with would be an understatement. They’re both tall and buff-looking - buff in the way that has your stomach doing flips. They’re clad in all denim outfits, their white shirts hugging each muscle underneath the cotton. Cowboy hats and boots complete their costumes, so you can easily deduce what they’re supposed to be. The man who you assume is the one who speaks is closest to you, smiling at you, pretty lips decorated with double lip rings.

They’re beautiful in the most stunning of ways that makes them not even seem real.

When you finally get a grip on yourself, you clear your throat, plastering on a smile. “Finally, someone at this party with taste! You’d be surprised how many people here have never seen Mean Girls.”

“A lot of people at this party aren’t much fun so that makes sense,” The other man speaks, rolling his eyes before fixing you with a look that appears as what you can only describe as hungry. “Speaking of, we haven’t seen you at one of Dongmin’s parties before.”

“Oh, yeah this is my friends and my first time here. Dongmin and I have worked at the same company for a few months. He invited me and as many people as I wanted to bring.”

“Remind us to thank Dongmin for that when we see him next,” Liprings smiles at you again, eyes sweeping over you from head to toe and you can feel the hairs on your arm stand on end under his appraisal. “I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“And I’m Mingyu,” Both men reach for your hands, each of them placing a kiss on them. The gesture is cheesy, but it still makes your skin heat up, cheeks burning as they gently let your hands go.

“I-I’m Y/n.” Forcing out a nervous laugh, you glance at their hat and boots and attempt to pivot the conversation. It’s not as though you didn’t want the attention they’re so clearly giving you, but you’ve never had men that looked this good so blatantly ogling you. Especially not two at the same time. You’re one more flirtatious look away from giggling like a schoolgirl in front of them.

“You know, just putting on cowboy boots and hats doesn’t make you cowboys.”

“And just wearing a headband doesn’t make you a mouse.” Jungkook fires back, grinning at you. Touché.

“You said you and your friends - where are they?” Mingyu asks, eyes sweeping the room. 

“They’re all with their significant others.” You shrug, not trying to sound bitter. You’re happy for your friends, truly you are - you’re just reminded of how alone you are right now.

“Aw, well we’ll keep you company, little mouse,” Mingyu winks at you and the way you feel your thighs clench together at his words is utterly embarrassing. You’re almost mortified with yourself when you watch as both he and Jungkook glance down at your exposed thighs, noticing the gesture. That mortification is quickly washed away when Jungkook bites his lip and Mingyu’s smile grows. 

All of a sudden, you’re acutely aware that it’s just you and two of the most handsome men you’ve ever been around. Face to face. There are plenty of people buzzing around you, but none of them are paying your trio any mind. Your heart races at this thought, glancing back out the window at the view into the backyard again.

“Everything okay, Y/n?” Jungkook’s voice is closer than you expect as he sidles up to your left, Mingyu moving to stand to your right.

“Yeah, of course, why do you ask?”

“You just seem nervous is all.”

“Nervous? I’m not nervous. I’m just…distracted. The, uh, the view of the city! It’s just so pretty. I’ve been admiring it all night.”

“Hmm. This is a really nice view,” Jungkook agrees.

“I know where you can see an even better view,” Mingyu adds, drawing both your and Jungkook’s attention to him.

“You do?”

“Yeah. We’re super close to Dongmin and we’ve been here a million times. He has a room upstairs that faces out to the backyard, but it’s a much better view than this. Wanna go check it out?”

You’d have to be an idiot not to guess where this was going and what else he intended with his words. He waits patiently, smiling at you and letting you think it over. A glance over your shoulder at Jungkook shows that he’s also waiting, eyes shifting to gaze outside while you think. Two hot guys basically tell you that they want to take you upstairs and hook up with you. It’s not the exact type of excitement you were looking for on Halloween, but it’s excitement nonetheless. 

“Sure, let’s go. I’ll text my friends.”

“Perfect.” They wait for you to send a quick text to the group chat, letting the girls know who you’re going upstairs with and you see someone sends back a winky face emoji before you slip your phone in the clutch on your wrist. 

Mingyu has you follow him out of the kitchen and through the crowd to the stairs with Jungkook behind you, his hand hovering over your lower back as he follows. When you reach the top of the stairs, Mingyu leads you to the left, down a hallway, and into a room at the end of the hall.

As soon as you step in, you see the wrap-around windows spanning the length of the wall in front of you. The curtains are all drawn and the expanse of the starry night is laid out so clearly. This room is in the corner of the house, but still faces the back, so you can see into the backyard and well across to the city skyline.

Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.

As if reading your mind the man in question chuckles, gesturing to the view. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah you were,” you wave at him, feeling flirty and brave enough to throw him a wink as you beeline straight for the window. The glass is clean enough that you can just make out your reflection. 

“Why are you so attached to looking outside?” Jungkook questions from your left. When you turn to find him, he’s lounging in a plush chair that sits near the foot of the luxurious bed.

“I can just appreciate a good view is all.”

“So can I,” Jungkook’s voice is so confident when he says it. He’s likely used that same line a million times before and it’s worked.

You refuse to admit it works on you too. 

“Smooth,” you still can’t help but roll your eyes. “This view is honestly just the most interesting thing I’ve looked at all night.” 

A big, firm, body presses into your back, your breath catching in surprise. You hadn’t even heard Mingyu approach.

“Oh yeah? That’s the most interesting thing you’ve seen all night?” His voice is low as he speaks against your ear, this close to making your knees weak.

“Mmhmm. Haven’t really been given much else to look at,” you hope neither of them can hear how your voice trembles as Mingyu runs his hands down your arms, pressing his body against you more. He has you so close to the glass you need to raise your hands to stop yourself from becoming flush against it. 

“Is that so?” Mingyu’s hands are soft as he brushes the edge of your lingerie, his fingertips grazing your bare thighs that the hem hangs above. His hands are colder than you thought they’d be, but the chill is welcome on your blazing skin.

“I guess I need something more interesting to look at.” Your eyes shift up in an attempt to meet his in the reflection of the glass but…all you see is yourself and nothing else? “Mingy-oh!,” your last word is clipped when Mingyu steps back and takes hold of your hips to pull you a little ways away from the window. Immediately after, he pushes you forward to bend at the waist. Your hands press against the glass again, this time to keep you from toppling forward onto your face.

“Be careful, baby.”

“Wh - sh-shit!” Your question dies on your lips when you feel Mingyu spread your plush thighs and presses his face against your exposed pussy, his tongue prodding at the fabric of your panties to push both into your wet hole.

“You can look at your reflection while I eat you out. I’m sure the face you make when you cum all over my tongue will be interesting enough.”

“Oh, or how about all those partygoers outside in the backyard? Isn’t it just so interesting how if anyone looked up and stared long enough, they’d see you bent over with your tits falling out?” Jungkook’s tone is so aggravatingly teasing, but he’s right. 

There are quite a few people stationed and talking around the yard. If someone truly wanted to, it would be pretty easy to see what’s going on in the room. The thought sends fear and another wave of arousal throughout you. 

“Mm, I think she likes that thought, JK. She got so much wetter.” 

“So dirty, little mouse.” 

“I - fuck!” It’s frustrating how Mingyu keeps touching you in all the right ways, his movements constantly scrambling your brain and derailing your train of thought.

His fingers push your panties to the side and his mouth immediately latches onto your clit, sucking a few times before his tongue eases into your entrance, the intrusion pushing out an unabashed moan from your chest.

Your fingers scramble to grip the glass, only to slide with a squeak as Mingyu laps at you as far as his tongue can reach. Your hips begin rolling against his face as he works at you, the need to cum dangling dangerously close. 

There have been plenty of other times you’ve let someone eat you out, but nothing can compare to the way this beautiful stranger plunges his tongue into your dripping hole, the obscene slurping sounds he makes are the only sound ringing in your ears other than your desperate whines.

“God, you look so good like this, little mouse. Your legs are trembling.” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the haze clouding your brain. “Can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

“What are you w-waiting for, then?” You attempt to sound confident and sexy, but your words are more whiny than anything. Even so, you hear Jungkook chuckle before the sound of him getting out of the chair and making his way over you catches your attention. He’s taken his denim jacket off at some point and you practically drool at the sight of his fitting white t-shirt and tattoo-decorated arm on display. 

He raises one of his hands, trailing it over your back and down to your ass. Mingyu already pushed your nightie up enough to get access to you, but Jungkook bunches it up all the way, the delicate fabric resting above your ass to give him access. He brings his hand down once, landing a spank on one of your cheeks.

Electricity surges through your body at the sting and you jump. Your hips respond by pushing back, obviously begging both men for more.

From behind you, Mingyu grunts, and, as if answering your wordless request, you feel his finger ease into your entrance, replacing his tongue. He’s still cold and you let out a yelp at the temperature, but you easily melt into him as his digit plunges into your heat.

Jungkook is still standing next to you, chuckling at the way you writhe, even bending over a little more.

“Asking to be spanked again, baby?” He hums, cold hand caressing your ass. 

“Yes, please!” Your knees are so, so close to giving out as you can feel your orgasm creeping up closer and closer. Mingyu’s finger keeps working at you and he soon adds a second. Heart hammering against your chest, you rest your forehead against the cold glass, nearly ready to collapse at the pleasure.

“Alright, well now you gotta share, Gyu,” Jungkook’s voice reminds his friend before he grabs at you to stand you upright. 

Mingyu, still on the floor, makes a displeased sound, frowning up at his friend.

“Yeah, yeah. You can still eat her out, but I want her mouth. Is that alright with you, little mouse?”

“Hell yes, it is,” you breathe out, still trying to right yourself after Mingyu’s assault on your pussy.

Jungkook smiles at you, and it takes your breath away in another way. How the fuck were you so lucky to end up here like this with men who looked this good?

With his hand holding yours, he leads you to the bed, Mingyu trailing behind as his fingers graze any part of your skin he can reach. Once you reach the bed, both men work together in lifting your nightie over your head and slowly peeling away your bra and panties, leaving kisses over your newly exposed skin. 

The three of you are a flurry of hands as you tug on the hem of Jungkook’s shirt with one hand while reaching behind your back to find the button on Mingyu’s jeans. 

When you’re finally naked, (save for your mouse ears which both men beg you to leave on), Mingyu spins you around and leans down to pull you into a kiss. His lips are impossibly soft as you melt into him, his tongue poking out to brush against your bottom lip a few times. You open for him immediately, allowing the man to wrap his tongue around yours before sucking the muscle into his mouth. 

Tiny mewls slip out of you, getting swallowed by Mingyu as he kisses you hard enough to bruise you, letting you taste yourself on him. Jungkook’s hands skate over your hips, your stomach, and up to your breasts. He rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging on the buds as his teeth graze your shoulders and neck. Mingyu continues to muffle every sound you make, and one hand, the one not currently cradling the back of your head, snakes down, down, down until he dips a finger between your thighs. He’s met with your wetness, already coating the tops of your inner thighs. 

Your eyelids flutter as both sets of hands hold you, your arousal building with every tweak and every poke.

A different kind of poke on your neck makes you yelp though, flinching your head back from Mingyu to try and get a look at Jungkook.

“Did you just fucking bite me?!”

The tattooed man chuckles and cocks his head at you, amused at your reaction.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you’re into that?”

“I am, I was just surprised. Your teeth are sharp.” You don’t mind marking and being bitten, but it’s never been almost painful when past partners have done it. 

Although truth be told, you didn’t mind one bit that it hurt.

He pouts at you, apologizing but still asking if you’re sure you’re okay with it. You promise you are and that’s all Jungkook needs to spin you around and crash his lips into yours. The chill of his lip rings is as cold as his lips, but just like every other chilled part of both him and Mingyu, you don’t mind at all.

Jungkook’s kisses are messier than Mingyu’s, his tongue immediately diving into your mouth to lap at every part of you. He alternates between making out with you as if his life depended on it and nibbling at your bottom lip, his teeth catching on the swollen skin now and again. It’s Mingyu’s turn to lavish your shoulders and neck with attention as he too sucks and nips at your skin, his teeth pricking your hot skin as he goes.

He leaves you panting when he finally lets you up for air and you can practically feel your arousal dripping down your thighs from the dual sensations.

“Your lips are fucking amazing,” Jungkook grumbles, dark eyes fixing you with a look that has you swooning. “I wanna feel them on my dick now,” 

You nod eagerly, likely resembling a bobblehead, and he and Mingyu both laugh at your eagerness. They help you get comfortable on the bed, having you kneel across it on all fours. Jungkook takes his position in front of you, his cock hard and already leaking precum. Mingyu shuffles on the bed behind you, running his hands over your ass, and you instinctively arch for him.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he hums, swiping his finger through your wetness and you hear him suck it into his mouth behind you. “And you taste even better.”

“Hey, you need to share, remember? I wanna taste,” Jungkook pouts at Mingyu over your shoulder and you feel Mingyu’s hand between your thighs again, gathering more of you, and this time, he reaches forward and offers his finger to Jungkook. The man in front of you cranes his neck forward to suck his friend's finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks for a moment before letting go with a ‘pop.’ 

Jungkook flashes a sly smile, licking his lips as he looks down at you. “Gyu is right. You’re absolutely delectable, little mouse. I’ll have to taste it straight from the source some other time.” 

The gears in your brain work overtime, registering that he’s alluded to there being a next time for the three of you. 

Mingyu’s tongue is diving into your cunt again which derails any other train of thought. Your mouth hangs open, a moan tumbling out in response. Jungkook uses that opportunity to tap the head of his cock against your bottom lip.

“This okay, baby?” He asks. When you let out an affirmative noise, he eases it into your mouth and you eagerly wrap your lips around it.

Jungkook’s cock isn’t extraordinarily long, but it’s thick, the girth stretching out the corners of your mouth the more he pushes in. When you almost get all of him in, he takes a moment, giving you time. When he feels you relax your jaw and sees you look up at him through your lashes, he starts to move his hips, helping you bob your head over his dick. 

His fingers weave into your hair, making sure not to disturb your mouse ears, gripping the strands at the base as he slowly rolls his hips into your face. You close your eyes, both to concentrate on taking him and to relish in the frantic way that Mingyu laps at your folds. He grunts into you with each swipe of his tongue and you can feel each deep vibration that slips out. 

You can feel your earlier orgasm creeping up again with each flick of Mingyu’s tongue. When he reaches under you to run his finger over your clit, the heat in the pit of your stomach gets hotter, bubbling up and spreading through your veins.

Unable to help yourself, you push your hips back into his face chasing your high. Jungkook’s cock is heavy and your tongue, his pace quickening too. His fingers tug at your hair harder than when he started. Each time he surges forward, the tip of his dick just barely hits the back of your throat, but it’s still enough to have you choking.

Drool starts to pool in the corners of your mouth as you cry out around his length, finally toppling over the edge as you cum. Your words are garbled and you have to anchor yourself to not fall fast forward into Jungkook’s crotch.

“Shit, yes baby like that. Cum all over Gyu’s face and take my cock. So good,” Jungkook’s words sound far away. Your brain is foggy, but you still clench around Mingyu’s enthusiastic tongue as he cleans you up.

When Mingyu finally pulls back you’re still whimpering around Jungkook and he’s switched to shallow thrusts, his cock dragging almost lazily against your tongue.

“Fuck, little mouse. I think I might be addicted to your delicious little cunt now.” Mingyu punctuated his words with a light smack to your still throbbing pussy, making you jolt. 

“Her mouth is a fucking dream too. She looks so pretty with it full. We’re so lucky to have found you, baby.”

“So lucky,” Mingyu agrees. You attempt to nod, trying your best to agree with them because you also feel incredibly lucky tonight. You’d gone from lamenting about being a third wheel in the awkward, almost lonely ways, to being the third wheel in a threesome with two beautiful men. Lucky indeed.

“Gonna let us get even luckier, baby?” Jungkook’s finger settles under your chin, tilting your head up just a bit to look down at you. “Gonna let us fuck you?”

This time you pull away, letting his cock fall out and giving you a chance to rest your jaw.

“God yes. I need more,” your voice is a little scratchy but still needy.

“Good girl. Who do you want first?” Mingyu rasps in your ear, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

“Both of you.” 

“Oh? You hear that, Gyu? She wants us both.”

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn dirty, baby. Sure you can take us both?” Mingyu presses his length against your asscheeks, letting you feel just how big he is.

“I can do it. Just prep me real good?” Casting a look over your shoulder, you meet Mingyu’s eyes, batting your lashes at him, wearing your best pleading face.

His expression darkens, smirking at you as his eyes sweep over your back, fixing on your ass before meeting your eyes again. “I’ll take care of you, little mouse, don’t worry.”

Mingyu peppers your cheeks with kisses while his finger swipes through your wetness again. He slowly spreads your cheeks, and a glob of spit hits your puckered hole followed by the tip of his finger prodding you. 

You wince when he slips in, moving oh so slowly until he’s one knuckle deep. Jungkook’s hand still under your chin turns your head to face forward and redirects your attention back to him. 

“Lemme distract you,” he taps the tip of his dick against your lips and you open immediately, almost greedy to take him in again. It’s easy for him to set a pace; each push of his hips forward pushes you back against Mingyu’s finger. They easily find a rhythm and Jungkook tugs on your hair, moaning loudly above you. 

Listening to his melodic voice making these breathy exhales for you - because of you - serves to make you wet all over again and determined to make him cum. He’s still guiding your head, but you curve your tongue, letting it wrap under his cock, gliding along a thick vein on the underside. 

“Fuck, Y/n. Keep doing that,”

So you do, hollowing your cheeks for good measure to make the inside of your mouth feel tighter around him. You’re moaning around his length as Mingyu slips a second finger into you, scissoring his fingers as he gets both digits in you.

“Look at you, little mouse. Taking my fingers and Jungkookie’s cock so well. I just know you’ll take both of us so good when we fill you up,” Mingyu’s words make you clench around nothing, but he feels the way your body tenses up and he chuckles at you. He lands a sharp smack on your ass, pushing a muffled shriek out of you. 

You get lost in the slide of Jungkook’s dick down your throat and the stretch of Mingyu’s fingers in you. It isn’t very long until you’re fucking back against his fingers. Jungkook’s grunts are getting more high-pitched and frantic, curses falling from his lips.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck. I’m - fuck!” Jungkook pulls his cock from your mouth, leaning back and gliding his hand over his length at light speed. 

When he cums he makes sure he’s angled towards him, so the sticky liquid spurts onto his chest and hand. You watch in awe as he tugs at himself a few times. His eyes are closed as he swipes his fingers through the mess on his skin and rubs it over his still-hard dick, sighing as squelching echoes in your ears.

“You doing okay, little mouse?” Mingyu’s voice cuts through to you and you finally manage to nod.

“Good. Come’re,” Mingyu’s fingers slip out of you and his hands wrap around your ankles and slide you down the bed, flipping you onto your back in one swift motion. “Legs and arms, wrap them around me.” He helps you loop your arms around his neck and you do your best to lock your legs around his waist. 

You expect to stay splayed out on your back, but he has other ideas as he picks you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing and you’ll be damned if it isn’t one of the hottest things that’s happened tonight.

Mingyu’s mouth is on yours again as his hands grip your ass, keeping you up and close to his body. He moves you both across the room, his back leaning against one of the large windows. One of your hands grips his shoulder while the other cards through his dark locks.

A second set of hands ghosts over your shoulders and back followed by Jungkook’s lips, his teeth grazing your skin between kisses. 

“Gonna let us fuck you at the same time, little mouse?” Jungkook speaks next to your ear, biting your lobe.

“I would if you’d hurry up,” you mumble, now laying your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder as Mingyu licks up the column of your throat, biting your collarbone hard enough to make you yelp. 

“So impatient, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “But I guess we should give her what she wants, JK.”

“Guess so, Gyu,” 

Mingyu leaves a final kiss on the mark he’s left on your collarbone and adjusts you in his hold. He lifts you a little, quite effortlessly at that, and begins sliding you down in his length. Mingyu’s cock is long - long and thick enough that you feel full before he’s even halfway in, but you take it, gnawing at your lip as he enters you inch by inch.

Once he’s completely sheathed inside of you, you two lock eyes, the dark glint unmistakable. He gives a few shallow thrusts, already making you pant in his grasp.

“My turn, baby,” Jungkook says, reminding you that you’re only halfway done.

You crane your neck to the side to look down, and you watch Jungkook stroke himself a few times, using his cum to get himself as slick as possible for you, spitting into his hand for extra help. Mingyu tips you forward, your head resting on his shoulder as he spreads your cheeks for Jungkook. 

You ignore the fact that when you look at your reflection in the window, yours is the only one you see, clinging naked around seemingly nothing.

The nudge of Jungkook’s thick cockhead against your rim makes you gasp. He slides in much slower than Mingyu, letting your walls accommodate him at a much gentler pace. When he finally bottoms out, your head is spinning at the sensation of being packed to the absolute brim. Neither men say anything as you get used to them, using the opportunity to litter any skin they can reach with their mouths with bites, sucking more marks into you. 

When you’re finally ready, you wriggle in Mingyu’s hold, attempting to pivot your hip to get them to move.

“Mm, you ready, baby?” Mingyu whispers, running his tongue along your jaw.

“Yes, please. Fuck me,” 

“Since you asked so nicely…” Jungkook laughs, his hands now holding onto your ass while Mingyu wraps his arms around your waist.

Both men take a millisecond to adjust and that’s truly all they need before they both thrust into you, drawing a long, gasp of breath out of you. Mingyu snaps his hips forward, using the window behind him as momentum to fuck into you. It pushes you back down into Jungkook who’s glued to your back. 

They fuck you roughly, see-sawing you back and forth on their cocks, their grips on your flesh never loosening. You cry out each time, babbling out what sounds to you like their names surrounded by nonsense.

Mingyu’s gaze stays locked on your face, occasionally trailing over the rest of you, practically growling with each powerful thrust. 

“Look at you. Taking two cocks so well. You’re so good for us, little mouse.” Each word is punctuated with even more power behind his movements, drawing a whimper out of you each time.

“So good. Letting me into this tight little ass. Fuck you’re squeezing me so much, baby.” Jungkook’s comments are also followed by thrusts that take your breath away, his balls slapping against the back of your thighs each time.

You feel a million miles away from your body as these beautiful men with their big dicks stuff you full. You can feel every vein and every ridge battering and rubbing against your spongy walls and you clench with each thrust in, your second orgasm rushing to the forefront.

At some point, you think you black out, but that could just be the pleasure. The only thing you see is Mingyu smiling salaciously at you, sharp teeth on display, and half-lidded eyes drinking you in. The only thing you hear is Jungkook growling in your ear, praising how good you are for them and how fucking amazing you are. 

The only thing you feel - well you feel everything. The way they stretch you out, the way their fingers and blunt nails press bruises and half-moon marks into your skin. You feel the scrape of their teeth when they bite at you and it’d be a lie to say you didn’t want them to bite you a little harder.

“Look at our little mouse, JK. She’s so pretty and so fucked out.” Mingyu moves a hand up to grip your chin and tilts your head back to rest on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Shit, look at you, baby. So cockdrunk for us. You gonna cum?” You think you say words, but maybe it’s more of affirmative sounding noises.

Somehow, someone’s hand - you’re not sure who - reaches between your legs to rub your clit. You’re so fucking full and so fucking wet that it only takes a few rubs at your bundle of nerves to have you cumming with a scream that sounds much too loud to your ears.

Every inch of you is red hot and in flames as your throat dries up and your eyelids sag and that’s when you feel it: the sharp, piercing feeling of being bitten. Hard. One on your shoulder from behind and one on the opposite side of your neck. Your eyes fly open and all you see is Mingyu's dark head of hair. Somewhere in the room, along with the wet, slapping, sounds of them drilling into you, you hear slurping. The slurping of your blood in the mouths of these men that you now know for sure are not just men.

They’re drinking your fucking blood.

And that realization alone has you falling apart again, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, body twitching in their holds.

“Fuck - fuck! Gonna stuff you so fucking full, baby!” Mingyu removes his mouth from your neck, shooting his load into you first, the sensation making you groan out, albeit weakly. 

Jungkook tumbles over the edge right after him, his sticky seed coating your insides, dripping out, and sliding down your cheeks.

You’re still reeling from what is likely the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever experienced, body sagging, feeling completely boneless.

“Did you cum again after we drank from you?” Jungkook mumbles as they slide out of you, still keeping you in their arms.

“Mmhmm,” is all you can manage, eyelids fluttering, fighting to stay open.

“Fuck. You really are perfect, baby. We gotta keep her, Gyu.” 

Mingyu chuckles, finally setting you on the bed, and letting you flop onto the comforter. 

“Yeah, I think we might have to. Would you like that, little mouse? Wanna be ours?” 

“Mmhmm…” You think you have something else to say, but instead, you finally lose the battle to exhaustion, your eyes sliding closed and sleep taking hold of you.

“Y/n? Hey, Y/n?” 

The sound of your name jerks you awake, and your eyes shoot open to take in your surroundings. 

Sana’s face is peering down at you when you finally focus, concern etched into her features.

“Huh?”

“You’re up! We were getting a little worried, you’ve been sleeping for a while. Feeling okay?”

You sit up slowly, your head feeling groggy as you take in your surroundings. You’re on your couch in your apartment. You can see Jihyo in the kitchen staring at you looking concerned too. In the distance a toilet flushes and you assume it’s Jeongyeon.

“I’m fine,” you finally say. “Why are we at my apartment?”

“Well, your boyfriends texted us that we should take you home because you were so exhausted you passed out. They carried you out to the car and everything. Very gentlemanly.”

“By the looks of those marks, I think they treated you the opposite of gentlemanly in the bedroom?” Jeongyeon eyes your neck as she enters the room wiggling her eyebrows.

When you glance down, you see what she means. Your chest and what you see of your shoulders are covered in bruises. When you touch your neck you feel two small punctures in the skin and you flush from head to toe. You had almost wondered if you dreamt about the whole encounter with Mingyu and Jungkook, but you hadn’t.

“Oh, yeah. They definitely weren’t gentle,” you can’t but help giggle at the memory of the night you’ve had. The ache between your legs and your cheeks is also a stark reminder.

Your friends don’t say anything about where either Mingyu or Jungkook went when they left you in their care, but they wouldn’t just disappear, right? They said they wanted to keep you which means something, you’d like to think.

Lucky for you, it’s not something you have to ponder for long. As you’re settling into bed for the night, your phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number. 

When you go to your messages you see a group chat with you and two other people. Opening it rewards you with an image - two familiar-looking mouths smiling widely. You can only see from their noses down to their chins, but both grins show off very pointy canines, one mouth decorated with two lip rings. 

You’re trying to rack your brain as to what to respond with - it’s not like you could have anticipated that being bitten by actual fucking vampires would be so damn hot.

A text from the other number comes in a minute after the picture.

Good night, little mouse. Let us know when and where we can see you again. 😉

You start to type, then erase the message three times, unsure of how desperate you want to sound. 

Then you decide, fuck it. It’s obvious they want you just as much as you want them, so who cares if you sound desperate? 

So, you keep it short and sweet.

Whenever and wherever you want. Duh.

Net tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf

I’ve wanted to write a Mingyu/Jungkook threesome since they did that live together that one time. And then the 3D challenge happened and my brain said NOWNOWNOW so here we are!

[astonmartinii]

Hi!!

Can you write for our golden retriever mick?!

summer breaking | mick schumacher instagram au

pairing: mick schumacher x vettel!reader (creative liberty with the age and whether that's actually possible)

mick and y/n spend the summer break together

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, pierregasly and 109,876 others

tagged: mickschumacher

yourusername: summer break with my tow favourites xx

view all 10,256 comments

mickschumacher no one i'd rather do it with

ginaschumacher interesting 🤨

yourusername don't worry gina, you're better than mick

mickschumacher why are we lying?

sebastianvettel don't have too much fun

yourusername okay old man

mickschumacher

liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel and 514,078 others

tagged: yourusername

mickschumacher: summer breaking with the mrs

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sebastianvettel mick that is an inappropriate picture

mickschumacher sorry sir

yourusername don't you dare delete this i look sexy

user456 this schumacher-vettel domestic in the comment section is killing me

flowersformick i ask once again WHEN IS IT MY TURN?

yourusername added to their story

[caption: last day in paradise]

mickschumacher added to their story

[caption: homeward bound]

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, charles_leclerc and 140,975 others

tagged: mickschumacher

yourusername: farm boy realness

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mickschumacher you know it

yourusername shirt are now banned and cowboy hats are now mandatory sorry about it

mickschumacher yes ma'am

sebastianvettel i did not agree to that

yourusername i preferred when you had a flip phone

user88 i love the mick and seb content we get from y/n

mickschumacher

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tagged: yourusername

mickschumacher: different kinda prancing horse

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estebanocon cuties

lancestroll miss you two

yourusername no one i'd rather pick up cow shit with <3

mickschumacher love you

user34 mick's dedication to making every post about his gf is so cute

sebastianvettel

liked by lewishamilton, mickschumacher and 1,098,237 others

tagged: yourusername, mickschumacher

sebastianvettel: family time

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yourusername love you xx

mickschumacher thank you seb

sebastianvettel part of the family now mick !!

user36 the fact that seb gave up the theme to post about his family and y/n and mick

lewishamilton miss you all!!!

note: hope you enjoyed !!! xx

[kometqh]

Return pt.2

╰┈➤ Ethan Landry x Female Reader

╰┈➤ Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, cursing, breakup, angst turned to fluff, ghostface! au, not explicitly following the events of the movie (Scream 6), alcohol, mean and sad ethan :(

╰┈➤ Summary: Ethan has to break up with Y/n, but regrets it instantly. Why? Because to him, she's the love of his life.

╰┈➤ Word count: 3,609k

╰┈➤ Part one

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

He'd done this before; same thing over and over. One victim after another. Something in him twisted and churned at the stranger's screams, their begging, their cries, but a more cruel, a more violent part of Ethan supressed that twinge of guilt. It's not like he could do anything anyway – his dad would skin him, and his sister would take it upon herself to make his life more miserable.

"Please no! Stop I beg you." A voice screeched in his ear, begging for mercy, bloodied hands grasping his own. They were in hysterics, using all their strength against him but to no avail. His mind was elsewhere, the screams becoming white noise as he continued to drive the knife up. Agonisingly slow, too. He could feel the skin cut beneath his fingers, the blade never stopping. "I don't want to die..."

Their voice became all but a whisper, their hands losing the strength they had just a moment ago. He chuckled quietly, before abruptly pulling the knife out, his chuckling turning into a full-blown laughter as they screamed, body twitching against the wall behind them.

"I'll make it quick buttercup, yeah? Would you like that?" He whispered into their ear, holding the knife too close to their neck for comfort. He could feel them tremble, even in their half-passed out state, their fear too overwhelming. A slight nod followed shortly after his words, and he tutted in disapproval, moving away to take in the sight, his work.

"Please- if you're going to kill me, do it quick!" They exclaimed.

"So much demand from someone in your position..." He wasn't impressed, nor was he content. He didn't like being told what to do unless it was coming from Y/n. Speaking of which, he looked around the room for something. A clock.

"Shit."

His eyes caught sight of the moving handle, it was coming close to 8pm, in 15 minutes he was supposed to meet Chad.

"Look buttercup, I would love to drag this out, but I'm running low on time-" He muttered, more to himself really, whilst flipping the blade in his gloved hand, the sound of his footsteps bouncing off the walls as he stomped towards his victim – a fellow student – plunging the knife into their chest repeatedly, choked stutters and gagging resonating within the room, followed by pure silence just a few short moments after.

"Fuck."

He wiped his knife clean on their clothes, turning to a window. His bag was there waiting for him, ready with his awfully stupid costume that Chad would force him to wear later on.

He heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head, muttering curse words under his nose as he awkwardly exited through the window and onto a rusty staircase.

Taking his mask off, Ethan inhaled a deep breath of air, shoving the damned thing back into his bag and instead placing on the wretched cardboard cut-out.

What even was it? He had no idea.

Down below, his bicycle was waiting for him, luckily it hadn't been stolen by some drunkard. Everyone seemed to be drunk and gone by this time, celebrating Halloween.

His feet moved quickly, the tyres spinning aggressively as he swerved to the left, narrowly avoiding a car. "Watch where you're driving dickhead!" He shouted, flipping the driver off in a fit of rage. After a couple of minutes, he could see heaps of students cluttering the streets, all dressed in silly, sexy or actually well-done costumes.

Some hollered at him as he hurried past, others swore as he swerved, his eyes finally settling on the half-naked figure of Chad, sported in some shorts and a cowboy hat, waiting outside their shared dorm building.

"Ethan what the fuck?!" Chad shouted, prolonging the 'fuck', flailing his arms in the air as he approached the teen, "You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago! Where were you?" He continued, his arm wrapping around Ethan's neck as the boy put his bike away.

"Sorry Chad, I was in the - uhm, library?" Ethan said slowly, though it sounded more like a question rather than a statement. It wasn't questioned by Chad though, who seemed like he already had a few too many drinks for the hour it was. He was already swaying as he walked alongside Ethan, tripping over his own feet - earning a few giggles from passing ladies - winking and blowing kisses, flashing his pearly-white teeth in a boxy grin.

In all honesty, Ethan didn't expect to get away with his lie so easily, but Chad was such a frat boy he couldn't keep his hands off alcohol until they got to the party. He let out a relieved sigh as he heard music blasting out of a specific home - the 'go to' for everyone.

There wasn't a single week without at least one party, and that added onto the ease Ethan felt any time he had to go and slash someone up.

Because nobody would even notice he was gone. Not even the people that called themselves his 'friends'.

Okay - that wasn't the whole truth. There was one person that truly did care for him. A small smile tugged at his lips as he thought of her - her beautiful, soft and shiny hair, that smile that made her look like an angel sent by God himself - no, not even that, she is a literal Goddess - he thought, those little crinkles under her eyes as she smiled, the few tiniest freckles scattered across her cheeks. The way she would always lead him to the dance floor, enticing him, bringing a smile of his own to his face. His heart pounded, no, it clawed at his chest whenever she was around. She was his whole world, and she held his heart in her grasp. He was at her mercy.

But their relationship wouldn't last.

As much as Ethan loved Y/n, he would eventually be forced to kill her. She was heavily associated with the 'Core Four', as Chad liked to call it, being present at the Woodsboro event. She was there when his brother was brutally slayed by none other than Sam Carpenter.

A string of curse words fought to escape his mouth, but he fought against it as Chad pulled at his bicep, leading him away to a group of dancing girls - who in his mind - were the most awkward dancers possible.

"Ladies, meet my bro Ethan." Chad introduced, slinging one arm around Ethan's shoulder and the other around a blonde girl's waist, "Ethan, these are my classmates. They're all gorgeous aren't they?"

Ethan grinned at the group, doing his utmost best to look sweet, innocent and convincing. Chad wasn't aware of his current relationship status, and that was okay. Neither Ethan nor Y/n were bothered enough to tell anyone; they'd figure it out on their own.

"Hey there, nice to meet you guys!" He shouted over the music, lightly nodding in greeting as his cardboard helmet slid down and blocked his vision. He was about to move it out of the way, but a smaller hand did the job for him. He looked to his side, and was met with a big cheeky grin. The one he adored.

"Y/n? It's good to see you!" Chad erupted, arms raising high as he embraced her in a suffocating hug. Ethan's heart twitched, his stomach twisted with a tinge of jealousy. He did not like the sight of Chad acting all touchy with his girl - did he need to do so?

The answer was a simple no.

Y/n's hands awkwardly patted Chad's back, her eyes nervously moving from the other girls to Ethan's, though his seemed to have a darker look in them - he wasn't happy, "Alright Chad I think that's enough." She said quickly, clearing her throat whilst backing away from the taller male, and joining Ethan at his side. 

She turned to Ethan, her gaze meeting his lovingly, "Hello stranger."

"Hey there, fancy seeing you here." Ethan said, clearly pleased as he bit his lip lightly, his hand itching to reach out for her own, and it would have if it wasn't for another body crashing into Y/n's back, arms slinging over her shoulders as lips entered Ethan's vision, a sloppy wet kiss was planted on Y/n's face.

"Mindy?! Ewww your breath stinks!" Y/n exclaimed exaggeratedly, fanning the space before her face as she moved her head away. Mindy chuckled at that, attempting to gift her with another kiss whilst fluttering her eyelashes and puckering her lips in, what she thought was, a seductive manner, "Oh come on! My kisses can't be that bad!"

Ethan looked to her, a questioning eyebrow raised, "Are you sure?" He scratched the back of his head, purposefully looked around the room to imply Mindy was, in fact, a bad kisser. Though he couldn't know really. The girl in question smacked the back of his head, a nasty snarl gracing her features, rolling her eyes in the process, "Thanks Ethan. At least I can pull the ladies, unlike someone..." A couple of 'oohs' and 'ahhh's' left the small group, and Ethan could almost feel the sting - only he didn't, because in his mind he did pull the best girl possible.

And she was standing at his side, stifling a couple of giggles.

"Come on Y/n, let's get some drinks." Mindy said, taking a hold of Y/n's hand as she lead her away.

Ethan shook his head and chuckled, sending a slight wave at Y/n, who had turned back to say something, but was far too gone to be heard. He reached into his pocket, fished out his phone, and was greeted with the sight of two missed calls from his sister - Quinn. He sighed heavily and excused himself from the group, making his way outside as he attempted to ring her back.

The phone rang for a long while, and Ethan was growing agitated the longer it took.

"Ethan? Why didn't you answer?" Quinn's annoyed voice rang through Ethan's ear.

Clicking his tongue, he retorted, "I told you I will be busy. I'm at a party, why are you calling me?"

"You need to break up with that bitch. Plans have changed." Her tone was cold, and Ethan let out a scoff at the insult. How dare she insult the one girl he cared about? 

"Me and dad decided to let her live," She took a pause, awaiting any sort of reaction from her brother, but was greeted with pue silence as he anticipated her words, "If you break up with her, we won't kill her. We will only go after Sam, Tara, Chad and Mindy. Though I can't promise you that she won't be injured during the process."

"And if I don't? Maybe she can still be an asset." He argued, directing his attention at a stray rock on the side of the pavement, kicking it, "Then I will personally ensure she is gone. We need you to stay focused, Ethan." Quinn's voice sounded harsh, and it sent a chill down his spine, his eyes widening in horror. He never believed her threats were real; up until now. But she was giving him a choice.

"Ethan? Did you hear me?"

He took a moment to say anything, his attention shifting to how rapidly his heart was beating, how he suddenly felt so warm and self-aware, he felt as though he could feel every sensation on his body - from that miniscule itch on his thigh to the way his hair began to stick to his forehead unbrearingly.

"You'll let her live? If I break up with her?" He asked, swallowing down the invisible lump that had formed in his throat. He's never felt this way. What was it? Anxiety? Fear? Over the phone he could hear a male voice call for Quinn, and he visibly cringed, "I am very serious Eth. You think I wouldn't be up for the task?" She questioned, taking a puff of air, "Dad's getting impatient, and I'm being kind by giving you a choice. So act fast."

And with that, she hung up the phone.

His arm fell limp, and the blood pumping through his veins deafened him. His thoughts raced one hundred miles per hour, and yet did not come up with a single answer or solution to his predicament.

His sister, his own flesh and blood, was threatening what he deemed the 'love of his life', but was giving him the chance to save her life? He definitely needed a moment to think that one over.

A few minutes went by, the music coming from within the house never stopped. It worked as background noise as he pondered, talking under his breath about all the possibilities and pacing around, clearly anxious. Could he get out of this one? Was breaking up with Y/n really the ultimate choice?

He felt like falling in through the earth, down into its very core so that he did not have to make such a choice. He wasn't stupid though - he knew if he suddenly disappeared, that Quinn wouldn't hesitate for even a second - and Y/n's life would be in grave danger.

He couldn't let her do that. If anything, he would break up with Y/n, break her heart and have it crumble to pieces just to ensure her safety. 

"What's got your pants in a twist cupcake?" A soft voice asked behind him, at first he was slightly startled, but then realised who it was. His damnation, "Y/n? I thought you were busy partying?" He exclaimed, hand gripping his chest as a nervous, toothy grin creeped up his cheeks. 

The girl in front of him swayed a little, hands interlocked behind her back as she looked up, "Well I was, but you were gone for so long I started to think you snuck off."

He chuckled, shaking his head in denial.

"No, I wouldn't of left you here, alone." He said quietly, looking straight into her eyes cutely, "Chad would do anything for a chance with a girl as pretty as you." Ethan continued, now shuffling closer and closer, until their torso's were just a mere inch away from touching - so close he could see that dusty pink colour decorate her cheeks. That really did do a number on him. 

"Well, luckily for you, Chad isn't my type," A small smile tugged at her soft lips, and she fought hard to contain it as she spoke, moving her hand to trail her fingers down his chest, keeping her gaze locked on it, "My type are sweet, cute, nerdy boys, with adorable brown puppy eyes and soft curly hair. Specifically, brunettes." She shifted her gaze, now looking into his wide eyes, the street lights reflecting in her pupils.

That light dusty pink colour from earlier? It now turned into a full-blown crimson blush paired with a wide smile.

"Are you embarrassed?" 

"Why do you ask?" She looked at him once more, chewing lightly on her bottom lip, her blush intensifying further as she had indeed been called out. 

"You're blushing. So much. It's quite cute actually." Ethan teased, his hand slowly moving to grip hers, sliding down to interlock their fingers together, "I think we should get out of here." At that, his heart picked up the pace, and nervosity took over him. Should he do it now? Maybe that'll be for the best.

His mind rushed as Y/n pulled him along, into the crowded streets and through dark alleys. Their breaths matching in pace and heartbeats matching in rhythms, their hands interlocked and feet moving synchronically.

Cars honked at them, street lights flickered and light rain pattered down, drowning out anything but each other's presence. Ethan kept trying to think of the right things to say, but her presence overwhelmed him, tugging painfully at his heartstrings. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving her. But he had to, for her safety. And so, his mind made the unconscious choice to let her go.

Even if it hurt.

It would be like acting, he told himself. His ears could barely process the words she was saying, the blood pumping through his head deafening him. He was getting anxious and fidgety.

His footsteps came to a slow stop in an alley, his hand pulling her backwards. Her breath hitched, and she gazed lovingly into his eyes, but he could see the growing worry. How am I going to do this? He restrained a smile, and blinked away the tears that threatened to gather in his eyes, not looking at her, but rather off to the side.

"Eth? What is it?" She asked worriedly. He could hear her laboured breathing, and gulped down the lump that formed in his throat.

"I don't know if this is a good idea..." Ethan's eyes met hers, his heart beating loud against his ribcage. He fought hard against his urges to grab her hand from his shoulder, place a gentle kiss on it before embracing her and muttering sweet nothings and reassurances into her ear, that she shouldn't worry and it didn't matter. 

"You know what I mean," He continued, taking a deep breath, maintaining eye contact, "Us. This isn't working out."

He shook his head, seamlessly trying to rid his head of those thoughts, but to no avail. His heart panged with guilt at the sigh she let out, "Why are you doing this?"

"We both know this isn't working. It'll only end in us both getting hurt," He paused, taking a deep breath, an attempt to calm his racing heart before he blurted out, "I don't love you."

He put on a stoic face, letting go of her hand. Putting much needed distance between them. If he didn't, this simple task would become much harder.

"W-what do you mean? Just two days ago you were on about how you can't stand being away from me! What happened? What changed your mind?" A light smirk tugged at his lips, his nerves taking over every cell in his body - he was scared, terrified. That smirk was quickly wiped off as he saw the pain in her eyes - the one thing he never thought he'd be the cause of.

"Why are you doing this Eth?"

"I have to. It's best if we stop whatever this is."

"How do you know? Are you really thinking about what's best for me?" At that, his anger took over.

He was doing all this just to protect her. He was being selfless, and all that she was doing was making his life more difficult. He hated (loved) how she questioned his choices, never went down without a fight. His vein was visible on the side of his temple, and his teeth grinded on each other.

"Stop making this so difficult! I am doing what is best for me!" He shouted, breathing heavily, feeling his face became hot to the touch, he pointed to himself, but stuttered his words out as his hand almost slapped hers, "I-I don't give a fuck about what you want! Okay? This is over, we are over." Upon saying so, another lump formed in his throat. He wanted to take his words back so so bad. But how could he? 

She nodded her head at him, and pushed past him, bumping shoulders. His eyes caught sight of the first few tears, and his heart shred into bits. 

"Y/n! Wait!" He shouted after her, following in her footsteps, but she ignored him as though he didn't exist, "Come back!" With that, she entered the crowded streets and disappeared, from both his sight and his life. 

"No no no. What the fuck do I do? What the fuck did I do?!" He questioned himself, one hand gripping and tugging harshly at his hair, the other dragging over his face, and he wished this was all some sort of a sick dream.

He couldn't believe he just did that - abandoned the love of his life and watched her walk away. It's for the best. He shook his head, slapping himself lightly before rushing into the crowds, in hopes of catching up to her.

'She must have gone back to the party, right?' He thought, looking ahead into the crowd. Hoping to catch up. His legs carried him, they ran, and his mind pleaded whatever God was above them, whatever fate chose this. The house party wasn't too far, as the pair hadn't gotten far before he made his declaration. Within 15 minutes he was there, his height bringing an advantage to his speed. He pushed through and into the house, looking around in a panic.

"Where is she?"

Sweaty bodies and spilling drinks blocked the path, hands raised in the air and swaying to the sound of music. Ethan received a couple of (accidental) slaps to the face, which helped sober him up a little from his panicked state. He had reached the kitchen, an island decorated with red solo cups and empty bottles of all kinds of alcohol, stood in the middle. And on the other side of it was Y/n, busy talking to Tara and Chad, her lips trembling and hands shakily bringing an alcohol-filled cup up.

His heart broke into a million pieces, just at the sight of what he had caused. Was begging her for her forgiveness now a bad idea? Probably. He listened to his better judgement, swallowing the lump in his throat harshly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so. His hand wiped the forming tears away and he walked away, breaths heavy and trembling as his heart shook. He couldn't sabotage her safety - one which should have been guaranteed the moment those words left Quinn's lips. Though, his sister was renowned for being an immensely good liar - only that part seemed to escape his mind.

I just wanted to say a quick thank you, I am so grateful for anyone who has read Return, I'm thankful that you all enjoyed it and I really hope Before You is up to your guys expectations <3 For those who have read the pre-edited version, this new one has a few minor but important changes. Thank you for whoever reads this <3 - kometqh

Tags: @netey6m