#hope you’re enjoying your hypocrisy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

khjcs · 7 months ago

Text

group: ateez

pairing: idol!hongjoong x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut, oneshot

trope: lovers to strangers ? to lovers again *head scratch*

rating: 18+ MDNI <<< don’t make me block

word count: 6.3k

warning: angst, mild cussing, mention of death (no one dies or plans on it), argumentS (yes, plural), mention of cheating, pregnancy on two occasions (not reader), mention of an abusive partner (neither mc), if i missed any, please lmk

synopsis: an argument between you and your significant other leads you to ponder on whether the man you’re with is actually the one indicated for you.

song playlist recommendation: “west coast” “young and beautiful” “video games” “say yes to heaven” all by Lana Del Rey

a/n: i know for pairing i put “idol” hj but it’s only alluded that he is. there is no actual scene in which it shows he is an idol, just small mentions of it. don’t get your hopes up if that’s what you were looking for. also, this is, in NO WAY a depiction of the artist. think of this more of an au than a fanfic if it helps. i really hope you enjoy:)

special thanks to: @luvt0kki for proof reading🙂‍↕️🫶🏼 oh and my sister for putting me in such angsty mood (by playing lana del rey in the car), bringing this piece to life. but she’s not on tumblr and let’s keep it that way. oh and the rain outside for pushing me to post this. i swear the mixture of rain, a good playlist, and a comfortable bed is such a good cocktail for writing.

navigation ・❥・ masterlist

Waking up in the arms of your lover on a lazy Sunday morning was on of the best feelings ever. You cuddled your face deeper into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent as the morning sun began seeping through the white curtains of your room. “That tickles,” he let out a chuckle. “I’ve got to take advantage of you allowing this skin-ship,” you retorted, both of you just smiling, allowing yourselves to be engulfed in each other’s embrace. “We have to get up,” you grumbled while pulling the covers off of your body, the cold rushing in quickly, creating goosebumps on your skin. “I don’t want to. Let’s just sleep in today,” Hongjoong whined as he got up. “You’re already out of bed. Tell you what, after we finish cleaning, we can have ourselves a small movie marathon, yeah?” “With cuddles?” His eyes sparkled. “With cuddles,” you laughed at his hypocrisy of “hating”skin-ship. It had became a habit of his to spend the weekend at your place. On Sundays, you two would clean your entire apartment together just before Hongjoong had to go back to the dorms for work. This week, however, you both had been busy and only had Saturday night and Sunday to yourselves, making the cleaning all the more dreadful.

“I say, we just do the laundry,” Hongjoong was still trying to negotiate with you. Missing your boyfriend’s presence, you were quick to give in, “okay fine.” Both dressed in comfortable clothes, you grabbed your load and the sheets, making your way to his car. On the way to the laundromat, he received a call that happened to appear on his car screen to which he declined. The all too familiar number kept calling. “Just pick up,” you rolled your eyes as you answered the call on his screen. A woman’s voice was heard, “Joong, I think I’m in trouble,” she cried through the phone. Hongjoong glanced your way and back to the road, “I’ll have to call you later, I’m a bit preoccupied right now.” Your mood had turned sour in an instant, you knew in a few seconds he’d be running to her rescue. “Love—“ “I know, you have to go to her,” you cut him off as he arrived at the laundromat. “I shouldn’t take long,” he got off to help you carry the load inside. “See you in a bit, okay? I love you.” You didn’t reply, you couldn’t. I mean, how could you? Your boyfriend of almost three years was still running behind his so called “best friend” when she needed him. “Love, please don’t be mad, it might be serious.” He tried soothing you, but you were too angry with him. “Serious? Hongjoong, I’ve seen you drop everything for that woman. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you practically ran out of your studio when she called. But Lord forbid I need you while you’re at work. I called you to hang out Friday afternoon and all I got was a sad excuse of how you’re stuck at work. And I get it, maybe you needed to get your creativity out onto a piece of paper and get it started. See, I kept thinking that to myself, making excuses for you. I thought you and I were in a relationship, not you and her.” You began walking off, trying to not cause an even bigger scene in public. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not like that. Please love,” he reached out for your hand. “Please what? You want me to be understanding of the situation? Because trust me, I have tried these past two, almost three years. Even before we started dating. I just can’t anymore,” you half whispered the last part. “What?” “I can’t anymore Hongjoong,” you spoke up this time, “I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want to be second to no one in your heart.” “But you’re not,” he held both your hands. “Oh but I am,” you pulled your hands away, busying them with the load that you were to wash. “Look, I have to go. We’ll talk about this at your place later.” “No. I’ll just finish cleaning on my own. Just go straight to the dorms afterwards. I’m not counting on you to come back.” You waited for him to fight for you in any way. You begged inside of you for him to understand you and stay. But of course, like a fool, you sat there waiting for your clothes to wash after seeing his car drive off. All of this ripping away the feeling you had not even 2 hours ago.

With a heavy heart, you finished cleaning the rest of your apartment. You had cried as you folded his clothes neatly, placing them in the drawer you had cleared out for him. Everyone had warned you about this. At the time, you were so naive, seeing him only through pink glasses, wanting so desperately to feel loved, which you did. He had made you feel so important when he worried about your wellbeing, sending you money so you could buy yourself whatever it was you needed. He had always checked up on you when you were sick, even calling days off to go and personally take care of you. All of this making you think that you were the one he loved, so it didn’t matter if every now and then he ran off to help his best friend, given their history. You couldn’t blame him for your obliviousness when he had been so honest with you from the start about their friendship. “She lived in my neighborhood so we would play a lot when we were younger but only gotten closer at age 14 when we started walking home from school together. She opened up to me a few years later when her parents were having a messy divorce. She really just needed a shoulder to cry on, and I was there to provide comfort. I see her more as a younger sister than anything, I promise you have nothing to worry about.” You laughed at yourself remembering his words seeing as he’s with her right now instead of with you.

You plopped yourself on your couch, in front of the television, eating a spoonful of ice cream to help with the sadness. The doorbell rang, making you jump. You reached out for your phone, wiping your tears away, to check the time. It was already past 8:00 pm, with no messages on your notifications; you certainly weren’t expecting anyone at this time. “Love, please open the door,” your heart clenched. You quietly rushed to turn off the TV, making your apartment pitch black. “Don’t pretend you’re not here, I saw the light of the TV turn off.” You curled yourself back into a ball on your couch. He had the pin to your apartment door, so why didn’t he just come in? If he really wanted to come inside to talk, he would have, but he never came in on his own. You waited until he left, which only sadden you even more. Only realizing now that he wasn’t fighting for you, for your love, or your relationship, making you conclude that he doesn’t love you the way he claims. The way you loved him. That if it came down to it, you were ready to lay your life for him, but was he willing to do the same? This only saddened you more. You reached out for your phone to call him, but the longer you stared at his contact, the more you thought about how he chose to leave instead of staying to talk things out.

You no longer had the energy to deal with this. Even if your heart ached, you knew you had to end it with him, for your sake. The thought making you feel stuffy; you planned for a late night run to help you muster up the courage to end the relationship. Making your way out of your apartment, you stumbled upon something, or more like someone. It was too dark to make out who it was. Afraid to take a step closer, you waved your hand in front of the motion censor light. With it illuminating right outside your door, you were finally able to see. Noticing a sleeping Hongjoong, your eyes soften as you reach out for him, “wake up.” You shook him, but he didn’t budge. “Hongjoong,” you shook him again abruptly, waking him up. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he stood up, unaware of his surroundings, that is until he saw you, “please, can we talk?” “Let’s just talk tomorrow,” you sighed. “Can you drive? Do you need me to call your manager? A taxi?” You pulled out your phone. “No,” he placed his hand over yours to stop you from calling whoever it was, “I just really want to talk. I want to fix this.” Hesitating a bit, you decided to let him into the apartment, figuring you should hear what he had to say. After all, he did wait outside for you when you thought he wasn’t willing to fight for your relationship.

You two settled down on the couch after you fetched him some water. “I really am sorry. I realize now how you must be feeling with all of this. I’m sorry I made you feel like you were second to her.” “Then why do you still go running after her? Why do you prioritize her so much? Her parents’ shitty ass divorce happened years ago. She doesn’t need to be coddled anymore! She has a boyfriend for fucks sake, why does she have to go out looking for you?” You got up the couch. “Love, it’s not that simple! I wish I could explain it all to you, but that would be an invasion of her privacy!” “Bullshit Hongjoong! This is all complete and utter bull shit! Why are you so fixated on her and her needs? What about mine? What about when I need my boyfriend here? To come coddle me?” “Really? When have you ever needed coddling? Every time you feel down, you push me away! You want to be independent so bad! Maybe you should be!” “What?” Afraid of where this was leading, your eyes began to tear up. “Maybe we should break up…” he looked down at the floor. “No! You don’t get to break up with me over this! I do! I’ve put up with your bullshit friendship with that woman, so I get to do this! I am the one breaking up with you! I’m the one letting you go!” You abusively stabbed your chest with your index finger as your eyes let loose of the tears. Ironically, his phone began ringing. He took one quick glance at it before putting it back inside his pocket. “For fuck’s sake, just fucking go to her already! Run to her as you so desperately want to!” He just looked at you with a sad expression. “Just be honest with me,” you looked at him with pleading eyes, “do you love her?” You were honestly afraid of his answer. “I do, but—“ you cut him off after getting the answer you expected of him, but expecting it didn’t make you hurt any less. “Get out! Just fucking get out Hongjoong! I don’t ever want to see you again!” You threw the water bottle at him as he made his way out. He knew you like the back of his palm. He knew he fucked up and that no explanation, not that he could give you one, would help you two recover from this. So he did the only thing he could do that night: to disappear from your life as much as he could.

As much as it pained him, he found himself in his car driving off to his friend’s. You couldn’t possibly fathom what had happened that night, or why he had to urgently leave. But he had no one to blame except himself for always running away from you when his friend needed him. Hitting the steering wheel as he drove, angry at himself for letting the best thing he’s ever had go. “Fuck!” he screamed into the silence of his car, coming to a complete stop when he approached a red light. Resting his hands on the steering wheel, followed by his head. He couldn’t comprehend why his heart hurt so much that he wished to rip it out of his chest. The tears that flowed down his face a burning sensation. He wanted to give up completely in that moment. To just turn back time to where the two of you were still in the warmth of your bedsheets, wishing he hadn’t woken up. All this felt surreal, to go from being in his happy place with you to living a nightmare of having to steer clear from you. Even if he moved across the world, the distance wouldn’t be enough. He’d still want to run back into your arms and make everything alright. A car honked behind him as the light had turned green, he wiped his tears along with his runny nose before he proceeded to drive.

Stepping onto his friend’s doorstep, he knocked on the door. “Hey, you don’t look so good. Are you okay?” She reached out to cup his face but Hongjoong shooed her hand away. “I only came to tell you to not call me ever again. I’m done.” Hongjoong walked away. “Wait! I can’t raise this kid alone! Please Joong!” She hugged him from the back. “You can and you will. You’ll be fine. And stop calling me that, we’re not in a relationship for you to be calling me by my nickname.” He undid her grip from his waist and left her standing on her doorstep. Even though he wanted to run to you and tell you he completely cut his friend from his life, he knew he couldn’t. Nothing would make you take him back after he hurt you so badly. All he could do now was drive back to the dorms.

Meanwhile, you were a mess. It had only been a few minutes since he left but you could only assume he went rushing into her inviting arms. That he was happy while you were miserable on your bed. It was already past midnight when you felt a migraine creeping in, knowing you’d have to call in for work in a few hours, you decided to put on another movie. The migraine, however, won and made you fall asleep in the middle of the movie. The only thing that woke you up the next day was your coworker who had worriedly called your phone about 100 times, that being an exaggeration of your own. “Hey babes, are you okay? You didn’t come in today, did something happen? Did you and Hongjoong fight?” A stinging sensation arose in you as you heard his name. Your burning eyes couldn’t produce any more tears, as if you were dried out of your liquids. “Uh, no, I’m just feeling sick today. I should be feeling better by tomorrow,” you lied. “Okay, if I don’t hear from you soon, I’m coming over.” You let out a forceful chuckle, “okay,” and hung up the phone. Forgetting to close your curtains last night, the sun, brighter than most mornings, illuminated your room. You took this as a sign to get up and do something productive around your house. You sighed when you walked around remembering that you had just finished cleaning it yesterday, instead you went into your closet with a gym bag. You began packing every little thing Hongjoong had left behind in your apartment, down to his toothbrush. You decided it was time to take this step since you were serious about not seeing him again. It started off with you folding his clothes neatly into the bag, but as you came across the clothes you gifted him, you began just throwing the clothes in there. The room only became suffocating the longer you stayed in there to pack his belongings. Taking a break from it all, you went to the kitchen, preparing a small snack with water to replenish from your dehydration. You sat on the small dining table, that’s when you took notice of your picture frames displayed around your apartment. Most of them were pictures of you and your now ex. You just couldn’t get a break from all of this so you made it your mission to finish packing by today. After your very needed break, you grabbed all of your pictures, throwing them [carefully] in the bag. Only keeping your favorite one hidden in your closet, the pain of discarding it encouraging you to do so. What you initially thought would be one bag, quickly turned into four. This shocked you as you hadn’t noticed how deeply rooted he was in your life.

The ache in your heart only grew bigger when you saw the building to his dorms appearing bigger in your sight. You were too much of a coward to confront him at work, so you decided to drop off the bags at the dorms, knowing well he wouldn’t be there. As you stepped out of the elevator, his roommate emerged from their dorm, flashing you a big smile as he recognized you. “Hey Y/N,” the man you knew as Wooyoung waved to you. You forced a smile back with a wave. “Awe man, you just missed Hongjoong. He went to work really early this morning. Something about needing to write down lyrics for a tune he came up with last night.” He looked down to the bags you had placed by your feet, “is that for him?” “Uh, yes. Do you mind putting it inside?” You picked them up, walking closer to him. “Yeah, no problem,” he walked to you to help you carry the bags, taking all four from you. “I have to go now,” you smiled and turned around. “See you soon,” you stopped in your tracks his words catching you off-guard, “yeah, see you…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say ‘soon’ knowing fully well it was a lie. The taxi ride back home was all too quiet, but as it turns out, it was all you needed. You felt like you could breathe again now that you got some closure. What you didn’t know was that it wasn’t the closure you needed.

Once inside your apartment, you were determined to fill the void that he left behind. Now that you no longer needed the drawer, you contemplated whether to throw it out or to store it. Your heart not fully being able to take in the pain of you two being over, you decided that the latter was less painful. As you moved the furniture out to the living room, the doorbell rang. Cautiously, you made your way to the door, hoping it wasn’t him coming to grovel again. “Babes, open up. You haven’t answered your calls and I’m only growing worried for you. Talk to me, yeah?” Relieved to hear your friend’s voice through the door, you opened the door for her. Strangely, your emotions overcame you when you saw her and you fell to the floor, a crying mess. No longer being able to contain your sobs along with tears that appeared out of nowhere. “Oh sweetie,” your friend joined you on the floor, hugging your body, trying her best to provide you with comfort. She could tell something was really wrong with the way you have never showed any sign of “weakness” in front of her. “I fucking loved him so much, why am I the one who gets betrayed this way? Was I never good enough for him? Or was I just too blind to see he was never going to choose me over her?” “No sweetie, don’t blame yourself. Don’t beat yourself up over this. He is the blind one for choosing her countless of times when he had a treasure in front of him. Trust me babes, he’ll regret his decisions one day. It’ll come back to haunt him when he least expects it.” She helped your zombie-like state off the floor. “Have you ate?” She sat you down at your dinner table when you shook your head. “Let’s get some food in you, yeah?” She looked through your fridge, taking a few ingredients out to whip up something for you. You thanked the universe for sending you an angel like your friend. She had been there when you needed her the most, helping you recover from your heartbreak. You felt indebted with her for life. Jokingly, you told her you’d be her first-born’s god-mother. Funny how the universe works, the face on your friend’s face only shocking you, “how did you know?” She looked back to you. “What? What are you talking about?” Trying to understand what she meant, you looked at her. Only when your eyes fell on her hand that was on her lower stomach did you realize what she was trying to tell you. “I came here to tell you, but you took me by surprise with your situation. I didn’t want to make this about me.” Running to her, you went to hug her, crying once again, “I’m so happy for you.”

Time passed you by so fast. Suddenly you were attending the baby shower you had planned for your friend. As you walked through the venue, checking with the guests to make sure they were comfortable, making sure they didn’t need anything, your friends approached you. “Hey, you look good,” one of your friends mentioned. “Thank you. You do as well,” you complimented back with a smile. “Sorry to bring this up, but you are okay now, right?” Your other friend asked. You knew she was only concerned about you, but you couldn’t help but wish she hadn’t brought it up just as you felt like you were finally healing from the pain that Hongjoong left you with. “Yeah, I’m doing so much better now.” “I’m here whenever you’re ready,” their mutual guy friend added. He had been trying to get with you the moment your friends introduced him to you. You were thankful to your friends for trying to put you out there, frankly, you weren’t ready for that yet. You let out a playful laugh, “you’ll be the first to know when I’m ready,” you half meant it. You considered to give him a chance once you were ready to get back out there. He was a good guy with you, much different than him… He made sure to go at your pace. He wanted nothing more than for you to be comfortable around him. Leading to him often waiting for you to initiate any contact, but you never really did. You didn’t want to lead him on unless you were sure of your feelings. You managed to slip away from your friends and went to the bar that your celebrated friend insisted on having. Her excuse to you was that, “just because I can’t drink doesn’t mean the rest can’t. Just add it for them. For you. You never know, you just might need a drink or two.” She just so happened to be right. Your energy depleted, you felt the need to get a drink. Right as you received your drink, your heart dropped lower than the pit of your stomach as you caught a glimpse of a man who looked a little too much like him. In a discreetly manner, you followed him, only to be even more disheartened. It truly was him, and he was with her, except now she had a huge belly, had to be nearing birth. Leaving your heart a reopened wound. Out of all things you could have imagined, the idea of him cheating never crossed your mind until now. You gave him too much credit because even seeing them in front of you, looking at each other so fondly, you still couldn’t help but make excuses. Maybe he didn’t cheat. Maybe he only got with her after he lost you. There was no way that what he felt for you was never real. Except you have all the proof you needed right in front of you. With that, again, you felt a single teardrop fall onto your cheek. Still staring at them both, finally noticing when Hongjoong turned around to see you, making eye contact with you. He was the first to break it by walking away only after whispering something into the woman’s ear. You knew you were the one who told him you didn’t want to see him anymore, but you wanted an explanation of what you had just witnessed, so you followed.

It wasn’t that he tried fleeing away from you, willingly, at least. He only wanted to ensure he kept his promise of staying away from you, as per your request. He wanted to stay so bad, to go up to you and hold you again as he used to 9 moths ago, but he knew he couldn’t. He knew that his presence alone would only taunt you, more-so that he was accompanied by his friend. He mentally cursed himself as he made his way to the parking lot, beating himself up remembering your expression, he knew he had hurt you once again. He had told himself he wouldn’t contact you first, even if he was so close a couple of times. Only until you contacted him first would he talk to you. Not for petty reasons, nothing like that, but instead to allow you the space you needed. Even if it meant you would never contact him. A sudden thought popped up in his head. Without a second wasted, he went against all he promised himself and went running back inside the building. He needed to clear something up.

You had walked around the whole building before giving up when you couldn’t find him. You leaned on the hallway outside of the venue, catching your breath. The feeling you were feeling right now contradicting what you had previously told your friends. You clenched your chest, trying to keep your composure to go back into the party. You made your way back inside the venue, but your heart and legs had another idea, pulling you away from the venue. Speed walking towards the entrance of the building only stopping when you saw Hongjoong running inside. You both paused, locking your eyes with each other. Everything about that moment felt like a movie, down to the way that time seemed to slow down. You approached each other slowly, neither daring to break the silence, that is until you saw a tear rolling down his cheek. “Why are you here? I didn’t add you to the list of invitees.” You hadn’t meant to be harsh, but you only had one thing that you wanted to really say. Instead of beating around the bush, “congrats by the way. On the baby that is.” Hongjoong shook his head, “it’s not mine. That’s why I came back inside looking for you. To clear that up.” He walked closer to you, keeping his eyes on you attentively, making sure to not scare you away. “I figured that’s what you thought when you saw me. Your expression gave it away,” he stopped mere feet away from you. “I’m ready to tell you everything. The reason I kept going to her. Personal matters and all. No more keeping stuff from you. Of course, only if you’re willing to hear me. But not here, I don’t want to cause a scene at your friend’s party. And to answer your question, she was the one who invited me.” Hesitant at first, you saw the fondness in his eyes, which is why you followed him to his car, making your way to his dorm. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, instead you settled for staring out the window. “You do realize you left her at the party, right?” You rested your head on the window, still looking outside of it as it began raining. He sighed, “I’m sure she’ll find a way back home.” His response shocked you, making you sit up in your seat. “Don’t be too shocked,” an inaudible chuckle left his throat, “she’s really not my top priority.” He quickly glanced at you and your expression before driving into the parking garage.

Sitting on the couch across from you, he cleared his throat, forcing you to face him, “can I just start off by saying I’m sorry,” he looked dejected. “I truly have been miserable without you, I hope you believe me.” ”Even if I do believe you, that doesn’t change the fact that you ran after her countless of times while being with me.” “I know,” he sighed, bringing himself closer to the edge of the couch. “I know this isn’t much of a rational excuse, but you have to understand, in the moment I felt that I had to.” You let out an exasperated laugh, “you had to?” “Yes… her boyfriend was very abusive. The night you and I argued, she had called me crying because she had found out she was carrying his child. Not wanting her kid to meet the same fate as her, she decided to leave her house, to stop the cycle before it became more serious. But she was too afraid to take that step on her own. She needed a push, and a place to stay at in the meantime. I helped her pack all of her things that day and took her to one of her friend’s house. Both me and her friend encouraged her to report him to the police, though, they didn’t help much, we were able to put a restraining order on her boyfriend that same day.” “If you had settled everything that day, then why did she call you again at night?” You hadn’t noticed the tears that rolled down your face until Hongjoong sat next to you, wiping them away gently with his thumb. “She was afraid of the idea of raising a child alone. She had thought she wasn’t strong enough for that yet.” “So she called you to co-parent with her? Ha, I knew it,” you fidgeted with your fingers, looking away to hold back the rest of the tears that threatened to fall. “No—On the contrary, she wanted me to talk her out of giving up on her baby. She’s dating the friend that took her in. He’s a real good father figure already and the baby isn’t born yet. Y/N, please look at me…” it came off not as a demand, but a plea. He held your chin to make you face him. “Me and her are nothing more than friends, I mean it.” “What about when I asked you if you loved her? You told me you loved her…” Your voice now wavering. “Is that why you came with her today?” “I—“ he sighed, “I meant it. I do love her. But I’m not in love with her. I only came with her because I owed her an apology for ending my friendship with her the way I did that night.” A silence overcame you both momentarily, “I’m sorry,” your voice barely audible. “I feel like a fool for not trusting you.” “Don’t apologize. I know I didn’t help by keeping all those secrets when I shouldn’t have. I know now that there shouldn’t be any secrets between us…” he hadn’t used that word in so long, yet it felt right and wrong at the same time. He didn’t know if there was still an “us” to claim. To him, you wouldn’t accept him back, all he could hope for is for you to accept his apology.

You threw yourself at him, hugging him tightly at his words. You so badly wanted him back and the fact that he referred to you both as “us” was the perfect indication that he wanted the same. Or so you assumed. You took his face in your hands, looking into his eyes, searching within them the answer to your assumption. His soft gaze encouraged you to kiss him. He placed his hands on your shoulders stopping you right after you tried to deepen the kiss. “I’m sorry, I can’t,” Hongjoong pushed himself off of you. “Why? Why can’t you?” You looked for an answer in his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” his head hung low. “You can’t hurt me any more than you did 9 months ago. You sat up on the couch. “I want you Hongjoong. No, I need you,” you stood up, slowly undoing the zipper on the dress you were wearing. “Please, not here. Not like this…” he rushed you two to his dorm before your dress could fall to the floor.

His room still being filled with pictures of you two, pictures that held beautiful memories. “You still have them” you held a picture frame of you two, one you had packed in the bag you returned to him. “Of course,” he approached you from behind, wrapping his hands around your waits, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck to your now exposed shoulder. This brought tears to your eyes. He really does love you the way you loved and still love him. “You were the best thing that has happened to me.” You leaned your head to the side, giving him more access. Holding the back of his head with your right hand, closing your eyes, taking in the moment. Hongjoong helped you walk towards his bed, never detaching himself from you, not wanting you to slip from his grasp once again. Swiftly turning you around, he guided you to sit on the edge of the bed. Kneeling down before you, wiping away your tears that threatened to fall. “I need you to stop me if this isn’t what you want. Because this is what I want. I want a future with you. I want more than just forever with you. If we take this step, just know I’m not letting you go again. I will fight to the death for you.” You nodded, “this is what I want Joongie.” He quickly attached himself onto you, the kiss being very needy. With a hand to the back of your head, he urged you lie down on his bed. Treating you the entire time as if you were a fragile object. His left hand roaming down your side, reaching your panties, gently assisting you out of them. For each piece of clothing he took off from you, you helped him out of one of his too. Lying fully exposed on his bed, you waited as he grabbed a condom from his drawer. He slid the condom on, fixing himself back on top of you. “It’s not too late to back out love,” the latter word brining you such bliss, you pulled him into another kiss. “I wouldn’t back out for the world.” He nudged at your entrance, entering you painfully slow, allowing you to get used to the sudden stretch. You gasped when he was fully inside you. His movements were slow, causing a small sting on your heat. “Let me know if you feel even the slightest discomfort love.” He moved a bit faster, taking a few moments to kiss you ever so passionately. Never once detaching your hands from him, that is until you saw the sweat forming on his forehead. You helped him into a new position that allowed you to ride him. You planted your hands on his chest as you moved your hips up and down. The new position aiding him to be deeper in you, bringing you to loll your head back with your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling all too much. “My beautiful lady,” he reached out for one of your hands, bringing it closer to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss, “I love you.” At his confession, you slowed down, fluttering your eyes open as you brought yourself to face him again. “I love you Joongie,” you intertwined your fingers with his as you made your way down to kiss him. He let go of your hands only to fully embrace you, deepening the kiss once more. He reached for your hips to help you move against him, brining you both close to your high. You were the first to reach your orgasm, brining you almost to a complete stop. His hands, still on your hips, assisted your movements once again, allowing him to chase after his.

You laid next to him, both your chests heaving. Hongjoong went into the bathroom, coming back with a small wet cloth. He placed it at your heat, letting you warm up to it so he could wipe you clean. After cleaning himself up too, he lied down next to you, taking you into his embrace. You smiled at the man, overjoyed that you were in his arms again. “You should consider yourself lucky. You’re the only one I like to have skin-ship with.” The room was filled with your laughter. Happiness spread across both your faces now that you were back together. “I have something for you,” he left the room for a few seconds. “I made this thinking of you,” he settled down next to you again, giving you the usb in his hands. “Untitled (choose you)” was written on a piece of tape that was attached to it. He had composed a beautiful song describing how he felt for you. It was, if not, the best gift you had ever received. Well, a close second. The universe gifting him back to you was your first best gift.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x y/n #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kim hongjoong #ateez angst #hongjoong angst #kim hongjoong angst #kpop angst

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teapartyprincess4two · 6 months ago

Text

II. Powerful

classification: angst, fluff

warnings: use of y/n

PREV, NEXT

—

Every year the social season manages to drain you beyond belief. When your mother was still alive, she’d flaunt you in front of every eligible bachelor in Solara in hopes that you’d find your one true love and produce an heir.

Courting was an easy enough process, a process that perhaps you would’ve enjoyed if you weren’t royalty. Your mother always managed to exhaust you with the same words, “A Queen is only as powerful as her King.”

To this day, even after her passing, those words cause your eyes to roll so far back into your head it’s a wonder how they don’t fall out. So much hypocrisy was laced within those words, especially coming from a woman who ruled without a king for decades.

You were powerful with or without a king, that you were certain of. If your mother was able to do it while raising two daughters, you’d surely manage now that your sister was entering the cusp of adulthood.

This year Selma has made her debut into society, a milestone she’s had her sights on for quite some time now.

Selma, unlike you, believes in romance and love. She’s extremely determined to find a husband who’ll bring her butterflies, write her love letters, and take her for who she is.

Every eligible bachelor has come knocking at the castle door in hopes of impressing Selma enough to make it out with her hand in marriage.

Yesterday, she was kept busy entertaining possible suitors in the tea room, and today wasn’t any different. Of course, you could’ve sent Martina to chaperone her, but you’d be damned if your sister gave herself away to anyone less than worthy.

The sound of Martina’s heels clicking against marble flooring becomes louder as she nears the tea room. Her small figure comes into view, bringing your attention from the letters and feather quills on your desk to the door frame. You’re fully expecting her to announce the arrival of another one of Selma’s callers, but her next words surprise you.

“You have a visitor, Your Highness. It is a…” she says, pausing to read from a small piece of paper, “…a Lord Sturniolo.”

Apprehensively, you gather your papers and send Selma, who sits on a nearby couch reading a book, an inquisitive look.

“Have you been courting a Lord Sturniolo, Selma?” You ask, filtering through a mental list of eligible bachelors in hopes of putting a face to the name.

“With you as a sister it’s hard to believe I’ve been courted at all,” Selma replies sarcastically.

Just as you’re about to quip back with a smart remark, Martina interrupts. “He claims to be a visitor, Your Highness.” She places special emphasis on ‘visitor,’ but you’re still not sure what to make of it.

“Martina, you know how I feel about visitors during the social season. If they haven’t been invited, please turn them away,” you say as you stand from your seat and walk closer to your sister.

“Oh, please! Don’t be so hardened, sister. Surely this…” Selma pauses and looks towards Martina for a moment.

“Lord Sturniolo.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you Martina,” Selma turns back to face you, “Surely this Lord Sturniolo is here to deliver some important news. Perhaps it is exciting news. Maybe even life changing!”

You roll your eyes, Selma always tried to make you see the light in a world full of darkness. She was too naive for her own good.

“Either way, I do not enjoy receiving unannounced and uninvited visitors,” you reply.

Martina speaks again, “I’m sorry, ma’am. He said the visit would be quick, but it did seem important. I can turn him away if you’d prefer it?”

A sigh falls past your lips. How rude would you be if you turned away a visitor, a lord at that? Sure, you had the respect that came with wearing a bejeweled crown on your head, but humility was still your strong suit.

“No, that won’t be necessary. You can send him in.”

As soon as you give her the confirmation, Martina turns on her heels and flutters out of the room quickly like a busy honeybee.

You’re anxious, mostly because you know this visitor will be looking at you as some sort of authority, but also because you’re not sure what would warrant such an unexpected visit. Selma stands next to you, looping an arm around yours in solidarity, and working towards soothing your nerves with kind words.

“Be calm, sister. I’m here with you.” You exhale deeply, immediately feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

“Thank you, Selma. I’d be lost without you.”

The sound of metal clanging becomes louder as the unknown man approaches the tea room, accompanied by the all too familiar sound of Martina’s clacking heels.

A man with long black hair enters the room, his silver armor shining brightly against the sunlight that illuminates the room. His sword is tucked away in its respective sheath and his helmet is tucked under his arm.

He’s quick to show his respect with a bow. He faces you first, “Your majesty.”

You return the sentiment with a curtsy, “Lord Sturniolo.”

“Princess Selma.” He bows in front of your sister as well, and you swear she almost swoons and faints as she begins to curtsy.

“Quite a beautiful estate you two share. Quite a beautiful country, actually,” he comments, eyes dancing over Selma’s figure a little too long. Selma must like the attention because her cheeks turn a rosy red and her eyelashes bat until she’s almost fluttering away.

“Thank you, My Lord. Kind words go a long way in Solara,” Selma says.

You clear your throat. “To what do we the owe the pleasure of this visit, Lord Sturniolo?”

“Yes, My Lord. Are you not aware that it is calling hour?” Selma asks, taking a flirtatious tone.

Selma’s playing all of her cards. You see it in the way she bats her eyes.

Maybe it’s because you’re her older sister, and the Queen at that, but you cringe. You can’t suppress the awkward, interrupting cough no matter how hard you try. And you definitely can’t escape the cold glare she sends your way.

Chris sends Selma a smirk, before returning his attention to you. “I was not aware that it is calling hour. Had I known, I would’ve made this trip on pleasure instead of business.”

Chris pulls a letter out, “I’ve come to deliver an invitation. My older brother is to be crowned in a week time.”

Your take the letter, delicate fingers peeling it open. “Thank you for your kind gesture, Lord Sturniolo. I will hand this over to the councilmen and have them arrange everything immediately.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you for receiving me,” an awkward pause interrupts him mid sentence as he debates whether or not to ask to stay. Chris debates against it when he notices the impatient expression that paints your face. “I think I should be on my way now if I’d like to make it home before morning.”

He bows, looking Selma up and down one last time before turning on his heels. One of his hands tussles through his long hair, slicking it back before throwing on his helmet.

Selma points at him with her eyes, silently begging for you to ask him to stay. ‘No,’ you mouth, sending her a stern look.

But even the Queen has a weakness.

“Please, sister,” she begs almost inaudibly. Her big doe eyes glisten as her bottom lip juts out. *1

You sigh heavily and roll your eyes.

Just as Chris is about to exit the room, you stop him. “Wait, Lord Sturniolo. Stay and join us tonight for dinner. I’ll have the cooks prepare something special for tonight, you must be hungry after your journey.”

Chris smiles, he was hungry actually.

“Thank you, Your Highness. A warm meal would do me good.” His voice is muffled behind the helmet, but his gratitude is evident regardless.

—

Silver cutlery dances along your plate as you engage in light conversation with your sister and Chris. It’s not like Selma’s flirting will let you ask Chris any meaningful questions.

You hate to play the ‘older sister/ Queen’ card, but Selma’s flirting is getting out of hand and you have a multitude of doubts swirling in your mind.

“If I may ask My Lord, do they make a habit of sending you to deliver messages in Eclipsum?” Selma asks as she digs her knife into a particularly tough piece of meat.

Chris is mid bite. Throughout the entire meal, he’s struggled to balance his hunger with his desire to chat your sister up. So far, he’s remained hungry.

He swallows dryly, a calloused hand begging for patience.

“Eclipsum’s undergoing a necessary change at the moment, Princess. I’m not usually in charge of delivering messages, but when they’re as important as this one, the future King trusts no one other than me,” he replies, immediately returning to the food in front of him.

Selma is ready with a reply, but if you want to take any part of in this conversation then you need to cut in as soon as possible. So you do, “Why is this message so important, My Lord? I take it your brother’s coronation was announced long before the social season began.”

“Yes, well that was my eldest brother Nick,” he replies mindlessly through mouthfuls of food.

Curious about what he means, you press further. “Is it not the eldest brother who inherits the crown?”

Chris coughs, trying to stop himself from choking on his food as he realizes what he just let slip. You can tell he’s becoming nervous, but the truth will come out eventually.

“Yes, well… you see,” Chris takes a deep breath, looking up at you through the hair that falls over his eyes. He places his utensils on the table, racking his brain for the correct response.

“You see, Your Highness, complications have risen in Eclipsum. I cannot go into too much detail, but I can say that the crown has since been inherited by my second eldest brother.”

Selma looks just as shocked as you.

“May I ask why the invitation was extended to us, My Lord? Solara and Eclipsum have never been necessarily involved when it comes to these matters,” Selma chimes in.

“Powerful countries must form alliances should they want to remain powerful,” Chris replies, offering you and Selma a quick smile before digging back into his meal.

—

Crashing waves are heard from the Eclipsum shore, a fog forming as the water slaps against the muddy sand. The sun is setting, slowly disappearing past the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful shade of purple. Matt sits alone, the old wooden dock beneath him groaning as he sways one leg back and forth in the water. His other leg is propped up, a lazy arm resting there to serve as a pillow for his head. His long hair settles just under his eyes, shielding his vision enough so that he only sees the black ocean that pushes and pulls around him. Matt’s mind is plagued with stress and worry, the only reason he’s even here is to escape the reality that awaits him back at the castle. This is meant to be his happy place, it is his happy place, yet he’s anything but.

The sudden sound of trotting hooves rings in his ears, alerting him of someone’s unexpected arrival and breaking him from his thoughts. “Matt?” a tentative voice asks, pulling on the horses’ reign hard enough for it to stop. There are only two people in this entire kingdom who refer to him by his this, everyone else opting for far more formal titles.

Reluctantly, Matt averts his eyes from the ocean, looking up to see none other than his youngest brother, Chris. The moon has replaced the sun’s place in the sky, the soft luminescence reflecting on the suit of armor that adorns Chris’s body. The white stallion Chris sits on adds to his strong, knightly demeanor, and if Matt didn’t know any better, he might’ve let himself get intimidated by the long sword that hangs on the armor’s sheath.

Matt doesn’t have to reply, or ask what Chris is here for, he already knows. Using one hand, he pushes himself off the wooden dock, a low grunt following as he dusts off dirt and debris. His attire completely juxtaposes Chris’s, a flowy, long sleeve white top flapping in the wind as he walks over to his brother. Matt places a gentle hand on the stark white stallion that stands before him, caressing its face before finally providing Chris with his full attention.

“Get on. I’ll take you back,” Chris instructs, a strong chin pointing to the rear end of the horse. Matt mulls it over, deciding whether or not to accept the invitation, before deciding that he’d rather prolong the process, “No it’s okay, thank you. I think I’ll walk.”

Chris shrugs his shoulders, steering the mare back into the forest before whipping the leather rope so that the horse picks up a steady pace. Matt watches as Chris disappears behind the treeline the further the horse trudges into the forest.

Slowly, Matt begins the long walk back to the castle, each footstep being met with the bioluminescence of the ground beneath his feet. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he takes one last look behind him, a faint, faraway kingdom coming into view.

For a second he wonders what it would be like to live there instead, but shrugs the thought off as the fog that rises from the ocean completely engulfs the view. *2

—

Soft waves slap against the boat as it comes to a stop on a foggy, moonlit shore. You pace back and forth downstairs under the deck, attempting to regulate your breathing with deep breaths that become ragged quickly.

Martina flutters behind you, trying to match your pace so she can adjust details on your gown. You’re an anxious mess.

Your corset is too tight, your dress is too big, your hair is beginning to weigh on your head, and to top it off this is the first official appearance you’ll be making as Queen outside of Solara.

As Martina fusses over you, you find yourself becoming increasingly irritated.

“Martina, could you please—” You shout, “Please just leave me be! For one second!”

Her hands shoot up in the air, a tight lipped smile forming on her face as she holds back tears before she quietly exits the room. As soon as the door clicks closed, and you hear her footsteps shuffle up to the ship’s deck, you let out a sigh of relief and slump onto the bed.

The wooden bed frame creaks as you sink into the mattress. You’re trying to keep your composure and you never meant yell, but this is all so overwhelming for you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to think of anything other than the nerves that surge through your body. Your mind immediately wanders to memories of your childhood and of your mother, putting you in an even more emotional and vulnerable state.

Just as your heart beat has been regulated, Selma bursts through the door without warning.

“Why have you yelled at Martina?!” She asks, her voice booming through the small room. The look on her face makes you feel worse.

“Selma, it was a misunderstanding. All I needed was a minute alone,” you reply, sitting up to get a better view of your sister.

“That does not seem like a well enough excuse to me. All Martina ever does is help and you’ve gone and upset her! Queen or not, you owe her an apology.”

“I shall apologize when everyone is calm.”

“You’re right, you shall. And you shall also make haste because everyone is waiting and we don’t have all day.” With that Selma stomps out of the room and slams the door shut, almost breaking the aged wood from the sheer force.

You throw yourself back on the bed, anxiety once again at an all time high. How were you meant to portray a powerful Queen when you felt so helpless?

—

“Queen Y/n! Princess Selma!” Chris exclaims, waving a hand in the air briefly as he calls you two over.

The coronation was quick and easy, and now that it’s over you don’t know why you were so anxious to begin with. Nobody has paid you any particular attention, most eyes were too busy trying to catch a glimpse of the new King.

You even found yourself narrowing your eyes and crooking your neck to see his face, but for the most part he had his back to the crowd and kept his head hung low.

“Lord Sturniolo!” Selma matches Chris’s energy, her heart skipping a beat as she pulls you in his general direction.

“You cleaned up quite beautifully,” Selma jokes, gawking at Chris’s elegant attire. A slight blush forms on his cheeks.

“Thank you both for making the trip, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble,” he says, a smile so bright it could blind you adorning his face.

“Oh it was nothing really,” you reply, but in reality you would’ve preferred to stay home. Eclipsum was dreary and the sun rarely had a chance to shine through the foggy, cloudy sky. Not to mention the fact that you have yet to meet the King; the sole purpose for your travel.

“Although I did hope to meet that famous brother of yours,” you continue, eyes scanning the room in hopes of finally seeing the King.

Chris’s eyes follow yours, he’s been hoping for the same all night, but Matt always managed to keep hidden even when he was meant to be the center of attention. Who could blame him, though? He was just crowned not only in jewels, but also in responsibility.

“Matt— I mean, the King has always been good at hiding.”

‘Matt.’ The name helps you understand and humanize him. He must be struggling like you were when you first became Queen.

“I’m sure he’s being kept extremely busy with all this company. We shall meet him soon, Sister.” Selma’s arm remains looped around yours, the other gesturing to the ballroom full of people as she creates a steady flow of conversation with Chris.

Chris chuckles, he found your sister’s positivity endearing, but he knew Matt was sequestered away from society by choice.

“Will you both be staying in Eclipsum?” Chris asks, attempting to change the topic.

You and Selma answer simultaneously. She says yes and you say no.

“I suppose we shall be staying then. A few days shouldn’t hurt,” you laugh. Selma’s gaze remains on Chris, they were clearly falling in love and here you were stuck babysitting your sister in a foreign country.

You huff in annoyance, “I shall need some time alone.” Selma waves you off, so engaged in conversation with Chris that nothing else matters.

So much for power.

—

MASTERLIST, SERIES MASTERLIST

A/n: I know you all want them to meet already, but trust ITS COMING. For everyone who’s been asking for part two, hope I enjoy! 😏 more coming soon

muah muah muah 💋 luv u all

- L.A.M.B💗👼🏻

—

1* not the bottom lip JUTTING out

2* yes this is the same part from the teaser. Why? Because I was teasing it 🤓

—

taglist: @nickgetsmewetter @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @certifiednatelover @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @luvr4miya @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh @khxna @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @callsignwidow

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pedropascallme · 1 year ago

Text

Thank You, Mr Miller

Pairing: dbf!Joel x f!Reader

Summary: "'So, what, I let you treat me like a whore and now you’re hiring a new babysitter?' You goaded him. Initially you thought this was the wrong thing to do—his brow raised in surprise at your words, and you’d considered the possibility that maybe this wasn’t what he had in mind, that it wasn’t what he wanted. But he grabbed you by the wrist, stroking your skin gently with his thumb."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), age gap (reader is 20-22 age range, Joel is mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (dom!Joel x sub!Reader), kinda brattammer!Joel? fingering, oral (f recieving), p in v sex, degradation, praise, little bit of cum play, Joel is talky when he's horny, no outbreak, if I missed anything else please let me know!

AN: Here it is...the moment you have all been waiting for...the long awaited part 2 of Yes, Mr Miller!! I hope you all enjoy <3

You woke up with your blankets pooled around your ankles. The heat from the fabric wrapped around you made your feet feel heavy under the sun shining in through your window.

You felt simultaneously drunk and deliciously sober; the daze and amazement at the events of last night washed away to reveal the underlying satisfaction of having finally gotten what you’d yearned for so deeply for so long.

Grabbing your phone off the nightstand, it finally registered to you how late you’d slept in; your parents had left for the day, for work and their respective errands, leaving you to sleep the day away despite more pressing matters. Your phone buzzed in your hand.

Still seeing you today?

Joel’s name lit up the screen and you felt yourself kick your feet, hearing the text in his voice, southern drawl and all. The thrill you’d experienced the night before hadn’t subsided, and the thought of being alone with him again, so intimate and passionate, made you bite your lip as you typed out your response.

Yeah. Gimme an hour.

~~~

The path to the Miller household felt longer today. Maybe it was the bubbling combination of nerves and excitement that you felt low in your stomach, but you kicked at the stones on the path, picking lint off of your skirt and trying not to let your hair fall victim to the humidity.

You hesitated before knocking on the door, unsure of whether or not you should change such a miniscule habit under even these circumstances.

You knocked anyway.

Joel answered, wearing a t-shirt that hugged his arms and abdomen, allowing you to admire his wide frame and the small scars near his elbows.

“Think we’re a little past knockin,’ darlin.’” He smiled down at you, and you flashed a shy smile that didn’t fool him for a second.

“Just wanted to be polite.”

“Yeah, I bet you do,” Joel licked his lips, “c’mon in.”

You followed him through the living room before stopping him at the foot of the stairs.

“Where’s Sarah?”

“With Tommy. Been buggin’ me to see him—knows he’ll do whatever she wants him to.” He scoffed.

“You do whatever she wants you to.” You grinned at his hypocrisy.

“Within reason.” Joel smirked.

“So, what, I let you treat me like a whore and now you’re hiring a new babysitter?” You goaded him, swatting at his chest. Initially you thought this was the wrong thing to do—his brow raised in surprise at your words, and you’d considered the possibility that maybe this wasn’t what he had in mind, that it wasn’t what he wanted. But he grabbed you by the wrist, stroking your skin gently with his thumb.

“F’I recall correctly, you loved bein’ treated like a whore.” Joel brought your hand to his lips, kissing each individual finger before letting it drop at your side.

“W—I might have…” You felt shy again, peeking up at him from under your eyelashes to watch the way his eyes darkened. “I think you liked it more.” You smiled, smug, but still carefully monitoring his reactions. Joel closed the space between you; your eyes came up just below his chin, and when he leaned down you could feel his breath on your face, his nose a hair’s width from your own.

“I think you’re mighty confident for someone I had beggin’ for more less than twenty-four hours ago.” His arms wrapped around your waist, but he didn’t move to kiss you, letting his words hang in the air.

“Mr. Miller…” You whispered, unable to make more than a peep with strong arms at your side and fierce eyes boring into you. Your hands came up to steady yourself on his forearms.

“Go on, darlin’,” he remained the same stoic, hard to read man you had come to admire, but you could see the anticipation building in him; with his lips parted slightly you could see his tongue trace over his teeth, wanting, waiting. “Beg.”

“Want you…” You tilted your chin up, hoping he would finally give you a taste of what you craved, “need you. Please.”

Joel finally gave in, pressing his mouth to yours in a heated exchange of spit and teeth; you could taste the smell of the cologne he wore and the mint of his toothpaste, and something that was so purely Joel. Your arms came to perch on his shoulders, lifting yourself up enough to match the fervor with which he was kissing you, letting your tongue dance across his lips and in turn letting his own lick into your mouth. In the light of day, there was something so much more profound about exploring each other—it felt less secretive, less taboo, and much more affectionate than the moments you had shared in the car last night. You moaned into his mouth, letting him capture and savor the sounds you made for him.

“Good girl,” Joel hesitantly broke away from you, your heavy breath matching his, “jump up for me, sweetheart.” You felt large hands grab the meat of your thighs, and you squealed as he hoisted you up to rest your legs around his waist, “Doin’ this right. Takin’ you to bed.”

You hummed, kissing his neck while he maneuvered up the stairs, feeling a small swat on your thigh when the love bites you gave him nearly made him miss a step.

You didn’t realize that you had made it into the bedroom, too busy sucking at the exposed skin he had foolishly granted you access to. It wasn’t until he dropped you onto the mattress that you realized he had stopped moving.

“Try’na kill me?” He huffed, “kissin’ me like that while I’m walkin’ up those crooked ass stairs?”

You scooted up the bed towards the headboard. “Shouldn’t’ve picked me up if you didn’t want my kisses, Mr. Miller.” You shrugged, enjoying the way his nostrils flared when you teased him. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you down the mattress, and you yelped at the sudden movement. Joel spread your legs and leaned over you.

“When did you become such a fuckin’ brat?” He pulled up your shirt, exposing your bare, braless chest. He let out a dry laugh, “Knew you were getting’ fucked today, didn’t even dress yourself properly.” The words were muttered, mostly for his ears as appreciation for the easy access you were granting him. He dipped his head down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, his hand grabbing at the other one.

“Oh—! Yes, yes…” You felt his teeth brush against the pebbled flesh before his tongue swept over it in a soothing circular motion. The hand on your other breast pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, before releasing it to engulf your entire breast and squeeze.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Joel moaned into your flesh, sucking hard on your nipple and making your back arch into him, the feeling of his mouth on your chest had pleasure pooling in your lower stomach. “Dreamed about these pretty fuckin’ tits.” He resumed his movements, switching sides to pay more attention to the breast he’d been squeezing.

“Yours,” you combed your fingers through his hair, “all yours.” You moaned when he began to suck bruises onto the plush skin of your breasts, pulling at his hair gently in appreciation.

“That’s right, honey,” he came up to kiss your neck, “who do you belong to?” His hand came down to the hem of your skirt, flicking it up to allow his fingers to trail over your ruined, dainty cotton underwear. “Who’s this pretty li’l pussy belong to?”

“You—fuck—you! Please, you Mr. Miller. Please, please, please.” Your cries became repetitive when you felt his fingers press carefully against your clit, his calloused skin drinking in the moisture that seeped through your thin panties.

“I know, sweetheart.” He fell to his knees in front of you, pushing your skirt up your hips and out of his way to let him worship you properly; his hands toyed with the waistband of your underwear, and you grabbed limply at his wrist to spur him on. He all but ripped the fabric off of you, letting it dangle loosely around your ankle before you kicked it off and across the room, bringing your legs to his shoulders. Joel brought his face to your core, inhaling deeply, savoring your scent.

He brought two fingers up to pull you open wider for him to see. “So pretty, darlin’,” his fingers left your lips, trailing up and down your inner thigh before you felt the whisper of a touch on your entrance. “So easy to get you wet, princess. Eager li’l whore.” You squirmed, sighing softly at his words and trying to get what you needed.

Clearly eager in his own right, Joel’s tongue came down to lap up the juices pooling over your slit; you felt the muscle trail up to your clit and your legs folded and tightened around his neck, thighs squeezing his head in reaction to the sudden friction. Joel chuckled, arms wrapping around your legs to pry you open and allow himself space to bury his face into your cunt. You felt him suck on your clit, mouth closed around it, while his tongue came down to swipe over it. The back and forth combined with the pressure his lips sucked over you made your head swim, and you reached down to grip at his curls. He released you, spreading his tongue over your hole once more to explore the flavors you gave him. You felt him push into you, and you whimpered at the small but pleasant intrusion. The scruff of his beard rubbed into your thighs while he fucked you with his tongue, his nose occasionally bumping your clit as he tasted you.

“More…” You whined, one hand buried in Joel’s hair while the other pawed at your breast.

“Greedy li’l thing,” Joel kissed your clit softly before turning to place open-mouthed kisses on your thighs. “Tell me what you need, darlin’. More what?” His words were gentle despite the underlying need that laced them.

“You—anything...just want more.” Your words sounded out from your blissed-out haze, and Joel relished the opportunity to see you this way.

“Gonna be good for me? Keep your legs spread if I give you my fingers?” You nodded furiously, making a pathetic show of your obedience by widening your stance around his shoulders. Joel grinned, placing two fingers in your mouth. “Suck.” You coated them, and when he pulled them out a thin strand of saliva kept your mouth connected to them. Joel dipped his hand down to your cunt with the other still holding your thigh to the side, pushing both fingers into you and scissoring them slowly before drawing them in and out. Gasps escaped your throat when he curved them, his mouth returning to your clit while he stroked your most sensitive spot.

“Please, please, please—” You couldn’t think straight, so intently focused on the way his tongue felt against you, the rhythm of his fingers matching your steadily increasing heartbeat.

“Please what, darlin’?” Joel taunted you, speeding up the pace at which his fingers pumped in and out of your heat, “You wanna cum for me? Be a good girl like you were last night?”

Moans fell freely from your mouth, warmth building in your abdomen and spreading to the tips of your fingers. “Please, Mr. Miller…” You begged, fisting his hair in a subconscious attempt to lessen the overwhelming pleasure despite how badly you wanted it to continue.

Joel growled against you, his fingers curling more fervently. “Go on, then. Cum.”

You didn’t have to be told twice; your legs flexed then went limp around his neck, back arching into his hand and mouth, riding out the high he had gifted you.

“Fuckin’ pretty when you cum,” Joel praised, slipping his fingers out of you and moving down from your clit to lick the juices dripping from your entrance. “Taste so good, honey.”

Your skirt rested on your stomach, shirt still pulled over your chest, and you felt so utterly content with the feeling of having Joel whisper sweet nothings to you from between your thighs. You feathered your fingers through his hair, silently urging him to come up, letting out a small whimper when he licked small stripes over your clit before coming up to face you.

“Sweet girl,” Joel pecked kisses on your face, “not actin’ so tough now that you got the attention you needed.”

You giggled quietly, pulling him down for a kiss and scratching shapes over his back, still full of want even after he’d made you cum on his tongue. Your hips bucked up lightly against him.

“Pretty li’l whore needs more?” Joel groaned, pushing his growing erection into your thigh, and you whined. “Use your fuckin’ words.”

Your palms fell flat on his back, and you pulled him in tight against you, tilting your head to whisper your wishes in his ear. “Want your cock, Mr. Miller.”

It was like watching a man possessed; Joel stood, leering over you as he pulled off his shirt, undoing his fly in one swift motion. He pulled you towards him, letting you sit up so that he could strip you of your own clothing. You shimmied out of your skirt before lifting your arms up to let him take your shirt off. He threw it to the side, and your hands drifted over the bulge in his jeans. You looked up at him, batting your lashes.

“Christ, you’ll kill me.” Joel took hold of your hands, throwing them behind you and encouraging you to lie back down. His hands kneaded your thighs, pulling them open again so that he could situate himself between them. You watched him free his cock from the confines of the denim, your lips parting and mouth watering.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about Joel’s cock before; it was the subject of all your fantasies. But now, watching him stroke himself above you, you felt unbridled desperation take hold of you. His hand wrapped around the base of his thick length, tip flushed red and veins running down the sides—you had never wanted anything more in your life.

You wiggled your hips, the pitiful noises you made doing nothing to encourage him to fuck you, only making him laugh over you.

“Told you to use your words,” Joel leaned over you, hand wrapping around your cheeks to certify that your focus was on him, “or do you just like bein’ difficult?”

You hummed at the way he spoke, thick accent coating the filth he said in sweet molasses. You blinked at him in faux innocence, “Can I have your cock?”

“Where are your manners, girl?”

“Please, Mr. Miller,” you spoke slowly, purposefully giving your voice a sultry edge, “can I have your cock?”

Joel straightened, taking his cock and running it through your folds, letting you coat him in your cum. “That’s what you want, sweetheart?” You felt him press his tip to your entrance, “Need this young cunt nice and full of my cock?”

Your restraint faltered, now purely focused on getting what you needed, and you couldn’t help the whimpers you let out, or the way your once teasing words turned into sobs of “please, please, please!”

Joel pushed his length into you, letting you acclimate to the feeling inch by inch; his brow furrowed, eyes closed, and your mouth fell open at the way he speared you so perfectly. “Goddamn, so fuckin’ tight f’me,” Joel groaned, bottoming out. His dominance faded slightly when he brushed the hair out of your face, “Feel good?”

“So full…” You breathed out, your hand falling flat against Joel’s lower stomach.

“S’what you wanted, ain’t it?” Joel bent himself forward, pressing his cock into you further, and you moaned out. “Wanted to get filled nice ‘nd deep?” There was that authority.

You nodded, nose brushing against his. “Fuck me—please fuck me.” You mewled, now accustomed to the stretch and longing to feel him wreck you. “Want you to break me, Mr. Miller.”

Joel let out an ungodly growl, immediately beginning to thrust in and out of you. “Fuckin’ slut—this what you needed? Big fuckin’ cock stretching this pussy out?” He lifted your legs over his shoulders, the angle lifting your bottom half off the bed and giving him more space to pound into you. “Pretty young thing doesn’t know what to do with this kind of attention, huh?”

His taunts had a shred of truth to them; your tongue lolled out from your mouth, spit drifting down over your cheek, and your eyes, though hooded, couldn’t hide how they rolled back with every deep push of his cock. You whined, trying to string together a sentence as best you could, but all you could manage was a continuous chant of “yes, yes, yes.”

“So pretty when you’re getting’ fucked,” Joel rambled, unable to keep his thoughts to himself when your pussy squeezed him tight, “you like this, princess? Like lettin’ a man twice your age use your cunt like this?”

You moaned, arching your back in wordless approval. Joel wasn’t satisfied with this, pulling out and smacking his cock against your clit.

“Asked you a fuckin’ question, girl.”

You cried out for him. “Yes! Yes, I fucking love it—please, I’m sorry, keep going!”

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought.” Joel reached around you, gently maneuvering you onto your stomach. “Put your knees up for me, baby.” You obliged, tucking your knees under yourself and keeping your back arched for him. He slid back into you, the head of his cock nestled perfectly against your g-spot in this position. You felt hands pull the hair off your neck, and Joel came closer to whisper in your ear, “Can I fuck you like this, darlin’?”

You hummed an affirmative, “Yes, please,” and pushed yourself back against him, letting the curve of your ass rest against his hips. Joel grabbed at the skin of your hips, squeezing at the soft flesh and watching the way your ass bounced against him.

“Fuck—yeah, like that, honey, that’s right. Fuck yourself on my cock.” You sped up, eager to impress Joel with your servility and delighting in the way you could feel every inch and vein of his thick cock with every movement you made. You rested your head on the mattress, arms spread out above you, and you could hear Joel’s deep moans of approval and praise.

“So perfect for me, s’so good.” His head fell back and his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass. He began to guide your hips at a faster pace; big hands holding your waist, pulling you flush against him. He watched with dark eyes the way you squirmed on him during an especially deep thrust, the way your fingers grasped at whatever they could find and your moans got higher in pitch when he fucked into your sweet spot.

“Feels so fucking good, Mr. Miller.” You mumbled into the bedsheets, voice uneven with the way your body bounced with every push of his hips, “you feel so good.”

“Needy girl, you feel good?” Joel cooed, “you gonna cum for me again? Let me feel you soak my cock?” He sped up his movements, his fingers moving down your body to apply pressure to your sensitive clit. Your toes curled, eyes watering at the overwhelming enjoyment that coursed through you; you lost any remaining control you had, legs uncurling beneath you, mouth producing whimpered gibberish. Joel held your now straight legs, using them as leverage to force himself deeper into your cunt. “My good girl, there you go. Cum for me, darlin’, lemme feel you squeeze me nice ‘nd tight. Show me again how fuckin’ pretty you look when you cum for Mr. Miller.”

You felt your legs tremble, eyes shut tight and pathetic, wanton moans escaping you. His fingers continued to massage your clit and with one last thrust of his cock you felt yourself let go completely. You screamed out cries of his name, whole body shaking around him as he continued to fuck you through the intensity of your climax.

“Fuck—fuck, so good—perfect fuckin’ girl.” Joel groaned, leaning forward to press his chest into your back, each thrust sloppier than the last as he approached his own release. “Where do you want my cum, sweetheart—tell me what you want.” He was practically begging, so close to his high, awaiting your command.

“Cum in me,” you spoke barely above a whisper, “please cum in me, Mr. Miller—need it, please.” Your legs still trembled from the aftershock of your orgasm, the light, airy feeling clouding your mind, coming down to earth only to provide necessary details; “On the pill.”

Joel kissed your neck from his perch behind you, thrusts messy and cock throbbing. “Yeah? Gonna let me cum inside you, princess? Fill this pussy up, fuckin’ mark you?” He got faster, sloppier still, and you whined in encouragement. He pushed himself deep into you, and you felt his cock stir when he let out a low groan of your name, coating your walls with his spend, rocking his hips against you to keep his load deep.

He slumped over you, breathing hard. You reached a hand up to pull gently on his hair. “Heavy.” He smiled through his gulps of air, slipping his cock out of you with a hiss, rolling off of you and pulling you against his side. Your hand cupped his cheek while his own hand roamed the side of your body.

“Was that—do you feel good, darlin’? Wasn’t too rough, was I?” His other hand came up to stroke your hair, eyes searching you for signs of hurt or regret.

“Perfect,” you kissed his chest, “felt perfect.” You felt his cum dripping out of you, thighs coated with the sticky moisture.

“Yeah?” Joel smirked, nosing the top of your head. He removed his hand from your hair, dipping down between your legs and pushing a finger into you to feel the slick mess you'd both made. “Then what do you say?” His hand came up to your face.

You cuddled closer to him, letting the heat and sweat from his body sink into yours before wrapping your lips around his offered finger and tasting the milky combination of your cum and his. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut

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star-girl69 · 2 years ago

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Human! reader head-cannon when the kids (still young) are told how there mama is a bit more fragile and easier to break so they have to careful and try not to be as ruff with her. Kids took that as a total challenge so they now hiss at anyone who comes within 3 feet of her ie, reader working in the lab with kiri and Lo’ak on her lap while Neteyam sits beside her (same chair) Norm walks over to hand her somthing and all the children hiss at him or Jake and Neytiri go to cuddle reader but the kids run and jump on her (basically dog piling her) hiss at there other parent and telling them not to squish there mama (Not noticing the hypocrisy as reader has been basically trampled by them - Sorry that was rlly long, don’t feel pressured to do this one as it’s not rlly well explained 😊😊😊

Lo’ak, Kiri, and Neteyam Being Protective of their Human!Fem!Reader Mama

a/n: unfortunately my requests are going to be closed for a few days just until i can get caught up on all of the requests i have

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO SENT THEM IN 🫶🫶

anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

—-

they’re like little guard dogs honestly

they absolutely LOVE going to the lab with you

like lo’ak in your arms like the mama’s boy he is

kiri leaning against your legs

neteyam sitting next to you

if you stay late and they start to get tired you probably have to sing them to sleep before going back to work

someone walking over to you and not noticing the sleeping kids (how??? but for the headcannon)

the colleagues talking too loudly and waking up neteyam

“HISS HISS GET AWAY FROM MY MAMA”

lo’ak and kiri waking up too

lo’ak literally wrapping his arms around your neck and SCREECHING even though he’s in your arms

the other person running away so fast

three kids all screaming at you and hissing is so scary 😭

them all finally going back to sleep after many kisses and the reassurance that you’re fine

you at the end of the night trying to figure out how to carry all three kids home

jake and neytiri waiting at home so confused

finally going to the lab and stifling their laughs when they see you all helpless

scolding them of course

picking up lo’ak and trying to hand him to jake when suddenly he like half wakes up and wraps himself around you like a koala

carrying lo’ak for totally unrelated reasons

jake carrying kiri and neytiri carrying neteyam

putting them to bed

lo’ak and neteyam being out with their friends

maybe you come outside to find them and say dinner is ready

lo’ak running over to you immediately, pulling on your clothes so you’ll pick him up

also i feel like he’s big into burying his face into your neck or hair

neteyam saying goodbye to all of his friends

“bye, my mama’s here”

one of the kids being like “well, MY mom said that she’s not really your mom and that your actual parents are weird”

“neteyam! hurry up baby!”

neteyam is thinking about throwing a rock

but runs over to you and grabs your outstretched hand

DEATH GLARE over his shoulder

next day the boy is mysteriously kicked out of their little group hmmm 🤷‍♀️

now maybe mo’at training kiri since she shows so much potential in regards to eywa

and also maybe mo’at still unfortunately trying to get over her prejudice ☹️

maybe kiri walking to her lessons and then being like

“guess who’s taking me to the pond to swim? mama!”

and mo’at is like “oh how nice”

and then you come to pick kiri up and take her swimming and mo’at is like

“oh…. y/n! i thought neytiri was taking her”

the tension is so obvious

“no haha it’s me!”

kiri noticing and tugging on your arm demanding that you two go

“come on mama let’s go. bye grandmother, come on mama,”

and also people literally just coming too close to you in public and the three of them just start hissing

the entire family just laying on the mats on the floor and just having some nice family time

jake JOKINGLY climbing on top of you and obviously not putting a lot of weight on you

you, jake and neytiri all think it’s funny but the three kids are just FREAKING OUT

kiri grabs his arm and tries to drag him off of you, neteyam hitting him and trying to drag him off, lo’ak just screaming and screeching that jake is KILLING HIS MAMA and pulling at jake to get off

jake getting off SO FAST he is TERRIFIED

all of them climbing on top of you

lo’ak holding your face in his hands and the yelling some more about how mean jake is

neteyam totally just throwing himself sideways over your stomach, facing his dad and hissing

kiri is just so stressed

she’s probably hugging your leg or arm and she’s SO mad on the inside

neytiri is laughing so hard in the corner

jake is just absolutely terrified

“what have we done…”

all in all jake and neytiri are happy bc they want you to be safe and they’re so soft that the kids love you as much as they do 🥹

they’re also a little scared but

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader #sully family x reader

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howlsofbloodhounds · 5 months ago

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Imagining a scene where, before deciding to leave with Color, Color just keeps showing up sometimes wherever Killer in Stage 2 is having “down time” after or before a mission.

And Killer just keeps shooing the guy away, disappearing on him whenever Color looks away. Walking away mid conversation whenever he decides hes done entertaining Color’s little “game.” Ignoring any food or offers of new clothes Color tries to give him—“I don’t eat.” “Your body has to eat sometime.” “I don’t care. And I don’t care about you.”

Color always leaves when hes told to, not wanting to push Killer too far and keep intruding on his time and privacy, but I can picture a scene where Killer’s like, “I know you’re obsessed with me, but I don’t take in strays, firefly. Get lost, before I put out those flames of yours.” And Color raises a brow and glances down at Killer’s feet where a herd of purring stray cats are rubbing against his legs.

And I don’t know, as they grow closer and spend more time together (of course Stage 2 will not recognize any possible genuine connection or emotions, everything he does he rationalizes away as beneficial or just maintaining a resource), Color slowly but surely becomes one of Killer’s “red lines”—his boundary.

A part of Killer starts considering Color as something similar to his, and thus something to keep secret and guarded—same as with his weapons, same as with his room, same as with his mind and his privacy and his business.

Color is one of those topics Killer thinks no one else has the right to know about. Killer even finds himself slowly but surely giving away some bits of his own secrets—Color took a pinky swear to not tell a soul—or a heart. Their moments belong only to them.

Until, of course, Murder rather uncharacteristically makes a provoking comment about something he shouldn’t know and doesn’t have the right to know, and Killer, gets..aggressive. Starts desperately trying to regain control.

Either physically or verbally (or both), he starts viciously tearing into Murder—talking about Papyrus, bringing up Toriel, asking if he enjoyed killing Monster Kid or was he the tormented hero instead? Or perhaps he was just the filthy, dirty brother killer, gleefully and delusionally believing himself a savior. Poor, poor Sans—hes just so ashamed.

But at least he isn’t Killer. Yes he murdered everyone too and sometimes even enjoyed it, but it was for a good reason! He feels ashamed, he feels guilty, as if it will wash the sins off his back.

Of course Murder has to get his own licks in—neither leave this confrontation well put together. Murder mocks Killer for his own hypocrisy. Pointing out how hes spent all this time convincing Murder and Horror to just give up and stop fighting, that there’s no point hoping for change or escape—actively dragging Murder back kicking and screaming—only it seems Nightmare’s little pet is considering leaving!

All because of some petty emotions. All because some guy he barely knows smiled at him.

Murder wonders what Nightmare would think, and Killer lunges at him, and that’s when they get physical. Ultimately Nightmare has to break them up because they’re probably fighting with intent to kill, because Killer is unusually, uncharacteristically angry. Almost Stage 3 levels of angry, with his SOUL starting to ‘glitch’ over his chest.

Nightmare can tell that Murder somehow did or said something to make Killer feel genuinely cornered or threatened, but Horror steps in—offering a cover story. Nightmare knows he’s lying, but possibly finds the attempts to hide things from him in his own home amusing.

So nonetheless, he allows it to slide for now—telling Horror to take Murder to the infirmary, and commanding Killer to “follow.” It’s the typical scene where Killer obeys, following immediately, likely glares at and shoulder checks Murder on the way past, grinning when Murder stumbles into Horror.

(Maybe there’s even a little talk between Horror and Murder in the infirmary, because Murder doesn’t usually go out of his way to provoke Killer so blatantly.

He usually just avoids Killer, wary of him. And Murder, well, he just wanted the other “monster” to feel even a smidge of what Killer makes him feel. It won’t matter, it won’t change anything, but it felt good.)

Killer likely confronts Murder is his own room again—ambushing him as soon as the door closes, knife to his throat—wanting Murder to feel unsafe in a familiar place, a place that’s supposed to be his only.

Killer is under orders by Nightmare to not kill any of others unless told to, everyone knows that. Killer says he’s all too willing to demonstrate how well he can work around that, and unless Murder wants to be an example, he’ll back off.

Murder comments that he’s oddly invested in this person for someone who claims to be incapable of emotions. He must really care about that guy.

Killer stares for a few moments, unblinking. Something glitters in his right eye socket, faint and sputtering, before dying out as his signature empty grin overtakes his features. His SOUL gradually starts to calm down, spinning slowly as it reforms back into its target shape, still beating like a frantic human heartbeat. More red than white.

He itches to snap the prey’s neck, make sure it stays silent forever. Instead, he slams Murder’s head back against the bedroom door with a loud thud, letting the skeleton fall to the floor in stunned, dazed silence.

“I don’t.” Is all he says, dead and matter of fact, as he steps over his coworker’s crumbled form, opens the door, and casually walks right out.

He’s back to normal by the morning, greeting Horror and Murder with that same grin and teasing remarks; rambling about something or another, as if it all never happened.

But the message is all too clear: Color is off limits.

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frenchkisstheabyss · 3 months ago

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♱ ＣｉｔｉｅｓＩｎＤｕｓｔ ♱

♱ Pairings: vampire!hyunlix x chubby!fem!vampire!reader, vampire!bang chan

♱ Genre: vampire au/horror/angst/fluff

♱ Summary: After their lover’s taken by vampire hunters, Hyunjin and Felix are willing to do anything to get her back but finding her is only the beginning of a journey down a twisted, blood soaked path where they find there are much scarier things in the world besides them and the biggest threat of them all may be closer than they think.

♱ Word Count: 3.9k-ish

♱ Warnings: vampires, blood, violence, expressions of pain/loneliness/heartbreak, some fluffy kisses. this chapter’s more emotionally driven than ultra bloody (future chapters will for sure get a lil gory), & that’s all

♱ A/N: I’m literally so nervous posting this. It’s the first fic I’ve written in a while and moody vampires are my happy place so I really hope this finds the people who love them too and you guys enjoy it.

I'm also thanking @anyamaris for giving me the confidence to post my writing and for always taking the time out to read my stuff🖤

A vampire can meet her end in any manner of ways. She might find a sharp object driven through her chest, the bones of her ribcage fractured around her faintly beating heart.

Or she could find herself cast out into the sun for a minute too long where she’d roast fiercely from the inside out until she was nothing more than ash in the wind.

The list goes on, if only briefly, and every hunter knows these methods like a prayer. But there’s another list. One that only certain hunters hold knowledge of. Not a list of ways to kill a vampire but of ways to make them wish you had.

You had the misfortune of coming across the latter. For you there was no archaic wooden post whittled into a stake, no afternoon spent sunbathing in the park. Locked away in the mausoleum of a dead man you've never met, you’re as alive as you’ve ever been.

Alive but paralyzed by the deprivation of the only two things that made eternity worth living. The taste of blood, warm and sweet on your tongue, and the euphoria of a love whose absence has rotted a hole in your heart.

100 days you’ve been here, turning to stone like the angelic statues that guard your tomb, and the pain grows impossibly deeper as the next approaches.

But you’ll not have to suffer another night in this hell. You’ll be free, you’ll taste blood again, feel truly alive. Your loves will see to it.

Standing at 712 ft tall, the Žižkov Television Tower looms above the romantically gothic city of Prague. It’s breathtaking beneath the night sky. Endless miles of beauty in every direction begging to be admired.

Most humans couldn’t dream of ever reaching the heights necessary to indulge but one man’s found himself lucky enough to take it all in. Maybe dangling upside down by your leg doesn’t technically count as luck but it’s all about perception.

“Please! Just let me go!” the bloodied man begs, the wind cold and sharp as it whips his tears back against his red cheeks. All of the blood’s rushed to his head and his view of the horizon has blurred into something reminiscent of watercolor painting.

“Let you go?” Hyunjin giggles, perched atop a platform. “That’s a really bad choice of words but okay.”

The dark haired vampire loosens his grip on the man’s ankle, reveling in the cry of desperation that leaves the man’s lips. Hunters are always this way when you catch them. So very pathetic. So weak.

“Wait! No! No! Please!” the man cries in the split second before his ankle’s secure in Hyunjin’s grasp again. “I don’t know where she is. I swear to God.”

“You swear to god when you lie?” a deep voice questions, unamused with his hypocrisy. “Do you not claim to do his work? And you take his name in vain?”

Hyunjin looks to the blond haired companion at his side, “Felix, are you telling me you don’t believe the words of this upstanding gentleman?”

“I’m telling the truth!” the man insists, his nose beginning to snot, turning him into a blubbering mess. “I don’t know where they put her. After we took her…”

Felix’s eyes pulse a deep, electric red at those last four words. After we took her. “So you took her! Where?” he shouts, his voice near animalistic as he reaches down, grabbing the hunter by the neck.

It’s dizzying for the man to find himself upright for the first time in what seems to be an eternity but there’s no time to breathe a sigh of relief. Indeed, he can’t breathe at all. Felix’s hand is tight around his neck, crushing his windpipe at a torturously slow pace.

When he saw these creatures cloaked in back, their elegantly sharp features forming in the darkness of his apartment, he knew what they were and what they wanted. Who they wanted. And death inevitably lay before him.

Truth or lies? Would either change his fate? He hasn’t come to decide and there’s little time now for contemplation.

“You need to calm down” Hyunjin cautions, razor sharp nails drumming against the metal railing.

“Calm down?” Felix snaps, his fangs glinting in the moonlight, “You heard him. They took her. He took her! Why aren’t you angrier? Or do you even care?”

In the blink of an eye Hyunjin is on his feet, his hand hovering near Felix’s throat, prepared to choke him the way he does the poor limp man he dangles like a ragdoll.

“Bad things happen when we let our anger get the best of us and we don’t want that. Do we?” Hyunjin warns through gritted teeth.

His gaze still locked on the man, Felix’s rage calms barely enough to sense. Hyunjin rests his hand against the porcelain skin of Felix’s neck, violence melting into its own strange form of empathy as he pats it gently.

They came here for the same reason and the success of this, like all they’ve ever done in their afterlife, depends entirely upon their ability not to kill each other. But other people? Well, that’s a different story.

“One last chance. Where’d you take her?” Hyunjin presses the man, knowing every second spent here is a second wasted.

With two sets of immortal eyes burning a hole through his very soul, the man makes a decision on his life. A decision he regrets in an instant.

“Don’t r-remeber” he croaks out.

“Yikes” Hyunjin hisses, disappointed but almost equally excited to finally be rid of this scumbag, “Wrong choice of words yet again. Seems to be your thing.”

Felix frees the man from his grasp, tossing him out into the night like garbage. It’s been said that when you fall from a building you black out before hitting the ground but there’s much more that happens before that final moment.

A fear so overwhelming you find yourself going borderline insane. Collapsed blood vessels. Rupturing cells. All before you hit the ground and become a piece of abstract art to be washed away in the morning. Messy, messy stuff.

As the hunter’s screams fade into the distance below, the two vampires are left in an uncomfortable silence heavy with the weight of questions unanswered. They dropped everything to come here, chased down every lead possible, and now their most promising one is hurling towards the ground at 120mph.

“I know she’s here somewhere” Felix sighs, breaking the silence, “I can feel her. She’s so alone, Hyunjin. She thinks we forgot about her. I can’t let her think that.”

Felix’s voice begins to crack, the heartbreak almost bringing him to tears. 101 days and every single one of them has been like a living hell. Getting closer was supposed to make things better but the closer they get the more the pain clouds their vision, thickening like fog until it’s impossible to see beyond it.

Hyunjin can only wish for the words that will make this all better. Anything at all to cool the pain searing through their chests. Even with Felix’s eyes almost pleading for him to say something that will make him feel less alone—less like he’s the only one hurting—Hyunjin can’t manage to let the wall down. Building it was all he could do to keep from burning this city to dust and any chance of finding his love right along with it.

“Right. Why do I bother? Why don’t you go back home, Hyunjin? Go rot with all your paintings. You always did like them better.”

Hyunjin parts his soft, rosy lips to issue another passive threat but, as quiet as his next breath, Felix disappears, abandoning him to a new brand of silence. The kind that leaves Hyunjin’s mind to race uninterrupted, sending memories washing over him so viciously he can’t resist being swept away.

Painting by moonlight.

Hyunjin has done it countless times in the last 300 years and it never loses its charm. There’s something so romantic about it. So relaxing. Tonight’s hunt had demanded a brutality of him that he seldom likes to reveal but with every stroke of the brush against canvas the beast within him calms, lulled back to sleep by the sound of water rushing from the ornate fountains of the back garden.

The subject of Hyunjin’s painting sits peacefully in the distance. A sprawling English manor that he’s called home for the past 50 years. Despite an external appearance that might have one think people were once beheaded on these grounds by some temperamental tyrant—they likely were—it emanates a sense of warmth from within and the source of it just sped past in a blur of light, nearly knocking his painting over.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you apologize, stopping to catch your breath. Carefully straightening the canvas back out on the easel, another blur whisks by, knocking you into the grass.

“Tag! You’re it now!” Felix declares gleefully, his limbs intertwined with yours as you struggle to sit up.

“I can’t be it if you break my back.”

“Your enemies don’t care if they break your back, my little flower” Felix hums, picking blades of grass from your hair.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to his painting as he mouths every word that Felix says next.

“You have to keep your endurance up. Never let anyone get the advantage. Life may seem sweet behind these walls but trust me…”

You let out a giggle at the faces Hyunjin makes as he mimics a dead serious Felix. It isn’t that you don’t take Felix seriously. He’s lived much longer than you have, gone through things you couldn’t imagine. All he wants to do is protect you, it’s more than anyone ever did for you in your mortal life, but sometimes you wish he’d stop worrying. For his own sake.

Felix frowns, your giggles drawing his attention to Hyunjin. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Making fun of you?” Hyunjin gasps, crossing his legs. “I’d never make fun of you baby brother.”

“Baby brother? You’re older than me by 5 months!”

Hyunjin grins, never bored with his ability to get under Felix’s skin. “5 months and 26 days. Can’t forget the 26 days.”

As much as you adore their trademark bickering, the grass is itchy and your back actually hurts. You’re hardly in the mood for this tonight.

Grabbing Felix by the collar, you kiss him before he can take Hyunjin’s bait. You only intend for it to be the faintest peck, just enough to shut him up, but he wastes no time pulling you on top of him and enveloping you in his arms.

The kiss deepens as his fingers massage the fullness of your figure through the plush cotton of your dress. His touch makes any bit of pain you feel melt away, replacing it with a tingling sensation that spreads throughout your entire body.

You forget in this moment that anything else exists in the world. There’s only the feeling of his lips pressed against yours, your hearts matching each other’s rhythm as the heat grows between you.

Hyunjin can feel it too. Every sensation Felix takes in. It snuffs out his own senses, replacing the feeling of the carved wooden brush in his hand with the sinfully tempting softness of your flesh. He can taste you on his tongue, smell the delicate floral scent of your perfume. It’s everything he wants and nothing he needs right now.

“I guess I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. Go hurl myself into the sun or something.”

Hyunjin makes no attempt at hiding his irritation as he walks off, leaving his things behind.

“Is that jealousy I sense?” you tease, appearing in front of him with an innocent pout on your face.

He shoos you away, offended at the accusation that he’d ever waste his energy on such an insignificant human emotion.

“No. Just bored” he lies, attempting to step around you.

You block his way, placing a hand on each of his cheeks to keep his eyes fixed on you. “You’re both very special to me. I love you and I never want you to get so…bored that you forget that.”

It’s silly to imply that your love is something he could ever question. There are many things he’s come to question in this world but the day will never come where that’s among them.

No matter how close he finds himself teetering on the edge of that thing called jealousy. Just having you near him, staring at him with stars in your eyes like he’s the center of the universe, is enough to bring him back from it.

Hyunjin takes you by the waist, pulling you closer and into a kiss much deeper than the last. He has a way of enchanting you so completely that you’d swear you were under a spell. A spell cast on your soul, laced within his kiss, and sealed with the fingertips that trail their way up your spine. If there’s a way to break it may that secret remain buried for the length of eternity.

“I love you too” he whispers, sending all of the blood from your last meal rushing to your cheeks.

“Good because you…are…it!” You tag him on the shoulder and disappear into the surrounding forest, cloaked by the shadows of the trees.

Felix hops to his feet, knowing Hyunjin’s competitive streak won’t let him sit this one out. “Do I get a head start?”

Hyunjin laughs, baring his fangs, “Just shut up and run.”

Felix follows your lead and Hyunjin wastes no time taking off after the two of you. Suspecting that you’ve found yourself a hiding space by now, Hyunjin focuses on who he senses closest to him. Maneuvering through the trees with a graceful swiftness, Hyunjin zones out the symphony of the night to isolate the sound of Felix’s breathing.

Felix has managed to make it imperceptible enough that a less experienced vampire may not know he was breathing at all. Picking up speed, he circles around Felix, slamming into him as he jumps to perch atop a branch.

Felix hits the ground with a thud, rolling through the dirt and into a small pile of leaves.

“I really have to learn how to fall.”

Hyunjin helps him to his feet but not without rubbing it in.

“All these years and you still can’t outrun me.”

Felix shrugs, dusting himself off, “Maybe I just wanted to slow you down.”

“Betrayal!” Hyunjin gasps, “You’ll pay for this later.”

He turns to chase after you, determined not to let you get one up on him, but Felix grabs him by the arm, a look of concern painting his face.

“Do you smell that?” Felix frowns, sniffing the air.

His nostrils are assaulted by the bitter smell of something burning nearby. He takes a few steps back towards the house and the air grows thicker with the scent of wood burning like kindling for a campfire. But it’s more than that.

Hyunjin picks up on it too, glancing back to spot flames dancing in the windows of the place you call home. Without thinking, they race back through the forest, effortlessly closing the distance between them and the burning manor.

They make it to the backdoor in time to see it engulfed by flames that climb the side of the building, torching the rose vines you spent all summer tending to.

“Stay back here!” Felix shouts, already charting an alternate course into the house, “I’ll go around front and find another way in!”

Hyunjin watches in shock as the windows of the top floor shatter, sending glass cascading to the ground. The way the fire’s burning, it doesn’t make sense. There’s no pattern. No source. Something’s not right.

And that’s when the true panic sets in. The realization that something’s missing. Someone’s missing.

“Where is she?” he asks, his heart sinking.

The question stops Felix where he stands and his eyes drifts back to the forest. He may nag you about the need to sharpen your abilities but you’re the most perceptive vampire he’s ever met. If they picked up on the scent of smoke you would’ve too. You’d be here by now.

A new possibility opens up, turning his stomach. You wouldn’t have gone back into the house. You couldn’t have. He shakes it off, venturing back into the garden to find you.

Hyunjin has the same worry but can’t bring himself to quiet it. Taking a few steps back, he closes his eyes and hurls his body through a first floor window. His body slams against the floor, dislocating his shoulder. The pain is blinding, shooting through his right side like a jolt of electricity.

Flames roar around him, swallowing up everything he ever held dear and none of it means a thing. There’s only one thing he cares about and he’ll lose himself before he loses you. Crawling to his feet, cuts littering his once perfect face, he calls out to you but is met with only silence.

Outside Felix has abandoned the garden to search for you in the woods where the only creatures returning his cries are those of the woodlands. They scream for you until their throats are raw. Beg for any sign you’re there until tears sting their eyes and stain their cheeks. Until the flames eat the walls like acid and the forest becomes a black barren sea.

They search for you, weep for you, but you’re gone—ripped away from them—and the pain they feel now is nothing compared to what’s to come.

Flowing through the city’s center, the Vltava River is said to be a place where one can find peace. Amongst all the lights and buzzing tourism, this spot on the bridge was supposed to be soothing but, unfortunately for Felix, he can only muster up annoyance and something he’s yet to recognize as a drop of envy.

Below him private yachts and ferry boats float their way up and down the river. They’re brimming with humans laughing and partying. Their joy permeates everything, giving the city a feeling of lightness that he promptly rejects.

A few months ago he might’ve found this city charming, maybe even smiled at the simple joys humans seem to find in life, but now all that’s beautiful feels tainted.

“It doesn’t have to be,” a friendly voice reassures him.

Felix jumps back, startled by the sudden appearance of a young man not much older than he is. Dressed in all black designer clothing from head to toe, he still manages to carry himself with the laid back energy of the type of guy who’s everyone’s best friend. But there’s something off about him and it makes Felix’s skin crawl.

He extends a hand to Felix, a peace offering of sorts before the war has even begun.

“It doesn’t have to be what?” Felix asks, staring at his hand as if it were laced with poison.

“Tainted. Darkness and beauty can coexist, yeah?”

“How’d you…”

The man’s eyes pulse red, answering Felix’s question in an instant. Another vampire? He recognizes that accent. It’s similar to his own. This one’s not from here.

“I’m from Australia. Name’s Chris. Nice to meet you, Felix.”

Felix’s skin’s no longer crawling, it’s crawling off.

Chris keeps his hand out, a sugary sweet grin stretched across his lips. He’s immovable and something tells Felix if he doesn’t give in now they’ll be here all night.

He cautiously shakes his hand, trying to assess the vampire’s intentions without giving too much away. Mind reading isn’t a gift all vampires have. It’s a power said to fall to the eldest or craziest amongst them and it’s much too early to say which to file this one under.

“A vampire who can read minds,” Felix sighs, unimpressed. “I’ve never met one of you before. So is this what you do? Just go digging around in people’s minds without their permission? I already hate it.”

“You’re sassy. I like you” Chris laughs, taking a moment to admire the view. “Too uptight though. It won’t kill you to unwind a little. Take in some of the sights. Ever been to Olšany Cemetery?”

“A vampire hanging at the cemetery?” Felix scoffs, turning back to the river. “A bit cliche, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know. Would you risk being cliche if it meant finding her?”

Felix’s blood runs cold, rage melding with confusion. Chris pats him on the shoulder, a superficial display of familiarity for the blissfully ignorant humans walking by.

“Probably wanna rip my head off now, hmm? But you can’t” he taunts, “Not in front of all these people and even if you tried to fight me I can assure you that you’d lose and your little Hyunjin would be left all alone in the world again. How depressing.”

Felix grabs him by the wrist, threatening to crush it as he peels his hand away from his shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

Amused by the whole ordeal, Chris sees no reason to hold out. That isn’t why he came here after all.

“In Olšany Cemetery there’s a mausoleum. It’s guarded by two marble angels. An architect’s buried there” he trails off in thought, pretending to forget where he was going with this, “Oh yes, but he’s not there anymore. There’s somebody else.”

“Somebody like who?”

Bone should be splintering right now from the force of his fingers contorted around Chris’ wrist but nothing’s happened. It hurts like a pinch from a child, barely enough to bat an eye at, let alone inflict genuine pain. Maybe this vampire isn’t older or crazier than he is. Maybe he’s both.

“The girl you’re searching for. Go there and you’ll find her but be careful…” Chris warns but his words fall on deaf ears as Felix shoves past him, having heard everything he needs to abandon the unpleasantness of this interaction.

There’s nothing about this stranger that he trusts. In fact, he’s never met anyone he disliked so much so soon but this isn't a lie. There’s no logic for it, no sound reasoning to justify why he’s digging his phone out to find the fastest way to some old cemetery on the edge of the city.

He knows nothing of the vampire’s motives or how, even with his abilities, he knows all that he does. They’re questions whose answers will have to wait until he finds you and nothing in the world, not even his own doubts, can stop him.

“I was just gonna tell you to be careful. She’s not who you think she is anymore” Chris mumbles to himself. “Actually I think she’s something far better.”

#stray kids x female reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids au #hyunjin x female reader #hyunjin x you #lee felix x female reader #lee felix x you #stray kids x chubby reader #chubby reader #hyunjin angst #hyunjin fluff #lee felix angst #lee felix fluff

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 10 months ago

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Hii! I love your writing. 🙌🏻 May I have a sub! Larissa dom! tall! Reader request where they have an argument in Larissa’s office about something but they end up having a heated..🫢. Larissa tries to take the lead and act tough, but eventually fails because Reader overpowers her, but actually Larissa secretly enjoys it. I hope it’s not too much, it’s alright if you’re not doing it, don’t feel pressured. :))) have a nice day!

I Don’t Go Down Easy ~Sub!Mommy!Larissa Weems xFem Dom!Daddy!Reader

Summary— Reader and Larissa get into a heated argument. Reader suspects that Larissa’s a little pent up, so she takes the lead… But Larissa isn’t going down without a fight. Anon Response— Hey Heyy @misswittylistyc !! Thank you for the request! I love this idea so much. Sub!Larissa could always use more content… Hope you Enjoy! Have a nice day as well!!

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, eating out, implied smut, kissing, marking, dom/sub relationships, fights for dominance, mommy kink, daddy kink, semi-public sex, implied future smut, swearing, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Im ridiculous…?? Larissa, you never take care of yourself!!” You exclaimed with a jarring tone, throwing your arms up flamboyantly, letting them land square on your hips.

Larissa huffed, as she paced the room, her face screwed in a distasteful look.

“Oh please…!! You barely get 6 hours of sleep a night—!” She sneered back.

You two had been at it for at least twenty minutes. Anyone and everyone in the near vicinity of the halls or rooms close to Larissa’s office had vacated. Your heated argument was seaping through you two and the walls of Nevermore.

And it had all started because you had come into Larissa’s office and found her working still far too late…

You gritted your teeth and let groaned in frustration, fisting your hand together, so much so so that your knuckles were white.

“God you’re incorrigible!! You can’t even see your own hypocrisy—!” You yelled.

“Well maybe I would if you weren’t being such a dick about it?!!!” Larissa shrieked.

This made you stop in your tracks. You unclenched your fists as your eyes widened. You realized how harsh you’d been...

Because Larissa rarely swore… Really the only time was when you two were intimate. Never anywhere else… So her addition of the curse in her verbiage made you rethink the whole situation…

Larissa took your silent response as even more of an insult. She had now wandered towards the door, so that you were in the middle of the room, in between her and her desk. Larissa stood tall and looked down at you, trying her hardest to act intimidating. She craned over you.

“So that’s what yore going to do…?? Go silent on me?!” Larissa spat in a mocking and dominating tone.

But this time, her words sparked a different fire in you. Instead of anger, lust was bursting through your veins, causing you to smirk and tilt your head upward at the tall principal.

Larissa looked a little confused at your reaction, quirking her brows and wondering what your game was.

“What..??” She spat yet again.

You gave the woman a small, mocking pout, clasping your hands together behind your back, and slowly starting to stalk towards the blonde.

“Is someone pent up…??” You taunted the woman.

This made Larissa scoff and roll her eyes. Yet at the same time, she started to back up as you approached her.

“What? No, that’s absolutely ridiculous!” Larissa squeaked, trying to sound intimidating but desperately failing.

You backed the tall blonde up all the way against her office door, when she then heard the click of you locking the door, wearing a grin the entire time. Larissa’s breath hitched. You were flush against the woman. Your closeness made Larissa gulp and blush lightly.

But just as you thought she was given in, a new gust of confidence took the blonde principal over. She suddenly lengthened herself and towered over you, even though she was the one trapped in between you and the office door.

“You think this is going to work…?? What are you going to…?? Seduce me…?” Larissa jeered.

You said nothing, staring up at the woman and looking her directly in the eye, not faltering. You simply dropped to your knees and began to roll up her dress.

Larissa went silent and her breath was bated as she watched you on your knees, rolling up her dress, removing her knickers, and spreading her legs for access. When you finally got to the woman’s glistening cunt, you looked up at her with a Cheshire Cat like grin, before leaning forward and licking her entire cunt from bottom to top in one fell swoop.

Larissa threw her head back and waves of pleasure hit her like a brick. Her legs immediately threatened to buckle, but she was quick to widen her arms and hold onto the wall to keep herself from collapsing.

Once you had pulled away and Larissa had come back to reality, her eyes met your gaze and they flashed with challenge.

“Is this your way of apologizing…? You gonna eat mommy out…?” Larissa taunted.

You shook your head with a chuckle, ignoring her taunts, because you knew she would be putty in your hands in about five seconds.

“Keep your eyes on mine…” you growled in your sultry, lustful tone that always sent Larissa into a frenzy.

Larissa’s eyes widened and she bit her lip. She was about to challenge you again, but then your tongue slid its way into her fluttering cunt and the woman was a goner.

Her legs began to bend and threatened to buckle, so you were swift to place your hands on each of her thighs to keep her propped up. Larissa’s hands were still outstretched against the walls and clinging on tight, as she let out her first desperate groan of the night.

You began to pick up the pace and really started to fuck the blonde’s cunt as like you knew would destroy her… As your tongue took turns lapping away at her folds and fucking her hole, your brought your thumb up to her clit and put tight circular pressure on her bundle of nerves.

“Ohhh f-fuck Y/N…” Larissa whimpered with a groan at the end, tilting her head back and screwing her eyes shut tight.

You quickly pulled away, stopping all administrations with a smirk. Larissa’s head shot back and her shocked gaze furiously found yours. As she saw your smirk, she realized you had her right where you wanted her.

“I said…” you growled, licking a stripe off her cunt, making Larissa’s knees wobble and her lip tremble, before counting, “Keep your gaze on mine…”

“Sorry yes Daddy…”

Larissa gulped and she immediately nodded vigorously. You chuckled and nodded in response, burying your face in her cunt once more, quickly returning to your destructive pace.

As Larissa quickly approached her high, all the while you stared her down with a wicked grin, one of the blonde’s hands jolted to your hair, pushing your head closer to her cunt as her hips grinded against your face. You let this act slip, because of how desperately gone the woman was by now.

You, thank fuck, let Larissa cum when she got to the edge, riding out her high as she came hard. Larissa was panting and by the end of her climax, her legs did in deed gone out on her, so she fell to the floor still trapped between you and the door.

You moved away from her cunt, now at eye level with the fucked out woman. You smirked and leaned in, pressing your cum splattered lips against Larissa’s. Larissa groaned as she happily licked all of her cum off your lips and from your mouth, her hands lunging forward to pull you impossibly closer.

The kiss was bruising, dizzying, but neither of you wanted to pull away. Alas, you both eventually needed to breath, so you had to detach momentarily, also giving Larissa some time to catch her breath.

“Poor mommy’s out of breath, just from Daddy’s tongue, huh…?” You teased the woman lightly.

“Shut up…” Larissa grumbled, crossing her arms defensively, “Didn’t enjoy it that much…”

Now this made you flat out laugh out loud.

“Ha!” You laughed with a smile, “Yes you did…”

Larissa blushed and looked away.

“Ok fine I did…” she muttered, before looking back at you with that same needy look, “fuck me properly, Daddy…?” She whimpered, already squirming where she sat.

You smirked once more and nodded.

“Of course, baby… Come on, let’s go to the bedroom” you said in your sultry, knee wobbling tone, making Larissa already start to ride the waves of pleasure again.

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

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queerfortress2 · 6 months ago

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Hello!

May I request any number of mercs you’d like to write for helping a S/O who is getting burnt out from work/school/general busy life stuff?

I’m having the worst burnout right now and it stinks :/

If I had any preference…any of these: Medic, Engie, Scout, Spy

You can write for one, you can write for all of them, whatever you would like to do.

I’m a woman and use she/her but you can make this gender neutral so non-female folks can also enjoy, whichever you’d like!

Hope you’re well, and thank you <3

an engie request finally you don’t understand — mod engie

GN!READER X MEDIC + ENGINEER + SCOUT + SPY (SEPARATE)

MEDIC

my brother in christ he is ALSO working. 2fort’s best paper pusher right there.

if you see work pile up he wouldn’t be opposed to helping you if you ignore is own work piling up. he doesn’t mind it really, as much as he says he doesn’t get burnt out he absolutely does and completely understands.

also taking you out of a work environment !! separate yourself from work for a little while, it’ll make you feel a lot better. he would take you somewhere nice if he wasn’t banned for 99% of public spaces, but does his best with what he has. you can walk around town together or he’ll invite you to his private quarters for you to relax with him and his Unusual Amount of Doves.

he’s also huge he’s practically a living weighted blanket. he isn’t exactly one to lay down and cuddle for hours but he can give you physical comfort before he finds himself distracted by something else in the room. you WILL have to listen to his crazy side rants if you spend time with him.

over all i think he’s more work oriented, so i think he’s more focused on “getting it all done” than “girl fuck your work we’ll go out on the town”

ENGINEER

paper pusher number two

he saw it happening before you did and probably dragged you out of the workshop before it got too serious. in the most non-creepy way possible he finds himself observing you frequently when you work together (or just in the same area) and will run checks on you frequently. need water? don’t worry about it, got a mini fridge right there for you— hey would you be a darling and pass the beer over too? thanks.

hospitality is his deal, even if you’re dating he finds himself treating you like a guest. you get the top priority. ignore his constant working and hypocrisy and he’s like a mini nurse.

also also probably does the work for you while he distracts you with something else. he doesn’t mean to be untruthful but.. while you nap he might’ve finished up a bit of your work and just told you that you did it but you were so tired you didn’t remember. HE JUST WANTS THE BEST FOR YOU

celebration too! he can actually go places, he takes you to a nice little diner and has dinner with you. he’s wearing his stupid little plaid shirt and jeans to dress nice and is TOTALLY playing but off like he’s the prettiest boy at the party. (he is) he even does the slick back hair motion on his hardhat (or very bald head). i want his dead /pos.

SCOUT

brother doesn’t know what he’s doing. he is one of the WORST at trying to help you get work done. he honestly just tells you to forget about it and you both just leave to go run about the base for a bit. a good jog never hurt anyone, i guess. (pauling is drowning in work)

he’s irresponsible so don’t trust him to help you either, he’ll forget about it and get distracted with something else entirely. but it’s the thought that counts! he’s also illiterate so that’s probably a problem with homework or just filing pages…

he also doesn’t take no for an answer, if you shove him off he’s just gonna keep pestering you, or if you’re small enough? just GRAB YOU. you’re leaving that desk whether you like it or NOT. you’re gonna go— as the kids say— “touch grass.” it’s gonna happen.

on the bright side, you’re never bored, he’s extremely entertaining. even if it gives you guys weird looks out in public, at least you aren’t frowning! you’re just having a good time.

if anything you’re going to get a good break, but when you get back that work is still going to be there, that’s a guarantee.

#mod engie #tf2 x reader #tf2 scout x reader #scout x reader #tf2 engineer x reader #engineer x reader #tf2 medic x reader #medic x reader

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persphonesorchid · 1 year ago

Text

Sativa - KTH | Drabble |

summary: You and Tae get high with your friends, that's it.

genre: fluff (?), suggestive

word count: 1.1k

warnings: Smoking weed; everyone is high. Making out with other people watching, yoongi's hypocrisy, hinted voyeurism/exhibitionism.

notes: I have NO idea what this is or where it came from. What is this behavior, dani?? Hope you guys enjoy!! (Feedback is welcomed and appreciated :))

Master list - HERE

Your eyelids are heavy with smoke, no doubt red and your head feels like it’s miles upwards in the clouds somewhere. A cold bottle of water was pressed into your hands a bit ago and you’re not sure if you’ve drank it or not. You’ve been chewing on the same handful of popcorn for God knows how long, and every time you swallow you don’t ever feel the snack reaching your stomach.

It feels like there’s a bottomless pit where your stomach should be; everything just passing through you.

Your chest and throat burn with a long-delayed cough, almost has you choking on the popcorn and gulping down water. At least... You were sure there was water in the bottle. How long ago was it given to you? When did you drink it all?

You poke a finger into Taehyung’s side with a frown, “Oi.”

He turns his head, a little slowly. He looks just as you’re sure you do; gone. His eyelids are low and he’s blinking at you in slow intervals like a cat, a stupid, crooked grin on his mouth. The warmth of his hand finds your thigh, as though he’d just remembered your legs were over his – or perhaps, just remembered you were there at all. His fingers curl and his thumb presses into your flesh with little pressure.

“Oi back.” He winks, there’s smoke on his exhale and the scent of the weed that’s starting to give you a headache after one hit too many. You were supposed to be sharing the blunt that hangs loose between Taehyung’s fingers, and as quickly as the thought enters your mind it’s gone.

You stare at him because you’ve also forgotten what you had called him for in the first place. His hand moves from your thigh, and you barely resister the light grip at the back of your neck.

“You good?” Taehyung leans closer, a brow raised as his gaze darts between yours. His fingers apply pressure just where your neck meets the base of your skull and you shiver.

There’s a brief passing thought as you nod slowly against his hold, something reminding you that Taehyung and his boys were way more experienced with this than you were. While you're prone to zoning out and giggling at anything that's barely funny, Taehyung and the boys has enough experience to be mellow.

It’s not that you’ve never done it before, it’s just that the effects leave you all over the place, so you don’t do it often. That, you guess, is what always comes back to bite you in the ass. Your body’s never prepared for the numb hot and cold feeling, and feeling like you’re watching events through a pinhole.

The blunt was long passed from Taehyung when he closes the gap, fingers of his free hand pressing into your cheeks to hold you steady. He kisses you quickly and you’re left chasing, leaning forward as he pulls back.

There’s a faint scent of his cologne under the heady scent of weed, and Taehyung doesn’t keep you waiting for long. He tips your head back slightly, slotting his mouth over yours in a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything else. The hand at the back of your neck moves up to your hair and tugs, and your fingers curl into the rolled-up sleeves of his jersey.

There’s a thud and the couch you’re sitting on shifts. Taehyung barely pulls away from you, and there’s something more than the cannabis that keeps his eyelids low and pupils blown. You tilt your head a little, and through the haze of smoke behind Taehyung on the loveseat across is Yoongi. His foot is still up on the armrest of the couch, and though he’s in the same state that everyone else is in, there’s still a sharpness to his gaze.

“If you guys are gonna fuck, do it elsewhere. No one wants to see that shit.”

He says this and with incredulity, you stare at him. The last time you did this with them, Yoongi had a friend over who’d been sitting on his lap for most of the night. And you don’t mean sitting decently, her knees were perched on either side of his thighs, kissing his neck and his hands were on her ass.

“Dude. You have no room to talk.” Hoseok mumbles, passing the last of the blunt to Jungkook who was busy building another one. His gaze is just as sharp as Yoongi’s, a switch having flipped between hits; Hoseok hiding behind Jay.

Yoongi flips him off, and reaches for the bag of chips that was thrown carelessly on the coffee table.

Taehyung brings your attention back to him, nudging his nose against your cheek, and licking at your jaw. His lips press against your pulse and his tongue and teeth follow. You’re hyperaware of Taehyung’s every touch, his breath against your skin, the way his other hand is squeezing at your hip and damn near pulling you into his lap.

Your lower tummy burns, and maybe it’s the weed, but it’s intense. You’re gripping at his arms, tilting your head back to let him do what he wants. He lets his teeth drag on the spot he’s bruised as he pulls away, you whine and Taehyung chuckles deep in his chest.

“You’re so gone right now.” He brushes a thumb under your eye. He leans forward and you think he’s going to kiss you, but he tilts your head slightly, and you’re met with the gazes of your friends who’s so far been extremely quiet.

“Bet they’d all like a show, hm?” his teeth nip at your earlobe, and even though he says this softly, the room’s too quiet and you’re certain everyone heard. “Bet I can fuck you right here and make ‘em watch.”

Your squirming doesn’t do a thing to help the tingling ache between your legs, and Taehyung’s gaze does nothing but make you whine his name.

Taehyung smiles sweetly, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m not that high.” He winks, “You’re for my eyes only.”

He pulls away, back to where he was originally and you feel as though you’ve stepped out of a bubble. There’s soft trap music playing from Jungkook’s phone, and his ears are red as he passes the blunt he lit over to Hoseok.

Taehyung taps your thigh once and then again, softly, a brief glance your way and then at the others. “Show’s over, stop staring.” He says to no one in particular, but everyone finds interest in something else.

Tagging: @xpeachesncream @eoieopda @euphoricfilter @luaspersona @dontstoptime @allhobbitstoisengard @madbutgloriouspond @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @blog-name-idk @eren-fall

#taehyung #kim taehyung #bts v #taehyung x reader smut #bts v x reader #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts fic recs #bts #bts fic rec #taehyung drabble #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts smut #bts fanfic

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charliekomori · 3 months ago

Text

Dark before dawn.

Chapter 1. Fake Divine.

"Destroying my faith No I won't fight in your games Destroying my faith And I don't wanna play it again"

Summary: Cast away from an eden of light, an angel with crooked wings crawls out from his own blood, fallen and broken in this new world.

Characters: Ruki Mukami, gn! reader.

Tags/warnings: fallen angel AU, blood, first meetings, series.

Author's note: This is an AU in which Ruki is a fallen angel. I've been thinking about this idea since his More Blood route and I wanted to write it. I intend to make it a series, I hope you enjoy <3 I made a playlist for this specific AU as well. You can listen to it here.

An unfamiliar sensation shoots through the being’s body.

In fact, man would be a more correct word to describe him, now that he’s been stripped of all divinity.

Decaying wings scrape against the concrete as he tries to move.

Is this what they call pain?

Is this feeling akin to flesh and bone being ripped apart what they call ache?

He tries to flap his wings, or what remains of them; once, pristine white feathers cascaded, soaring above clouds of light.

Now, ashen branches seem to span from his scarred back, a cruel reminder of an eternity denied.

Glazed steely eyes direct skyward.

His sight is met with a vast nothingness.

How long has it passed since he fell?

It certainly does feel like an eternity, yet it can’t have been more than a couple days, at most.

He should get moving. In his current state, it is not wise to linger in the same place for too long.

Dirt scratches against his palms when he tries to stand.

For someone of seraphic blood to have to crawl through the ground… This is ridiculous.

The fallen angel clenches his teeth, an expression befitting more of a demon contorting his face.

Then,

“Hey, are you okay?”

Dark icy eyes focus on a figure standing a few feet away from him.

Tsk, to have to look at someone when he is the one standing below them… Outrageous.

At first he doesn’t reply, giving the stranger a nasty look.

He despises hypocrisy, and especially those who pity him, after all.

So how dare a mere human ask if he is okay?

How dare such a lowly being have the nerve to even fathom the idea that he needs help.

The broken angel finally stands up, crooked wings sprouting from his back, his energy too low to even hide them.

“Wait!” They call after him. Rushed footsteps follow. “You’re bleeding!”

The dark haired man barks a laugh. He’s got wings on his back in plain sight and this person is worried about him bleeding.

He notices the concern etched on the human’s eyes, their serious expression unwavering.

“Are you sure you can go on like that?” They ask.

’Yes.’ The halo-less angel thinks. That is what he’s always done after all. Take everything for granted, never walking side by side with others and never acknowledging their help.

He takes another step forward. Or tries to, at least.

The next thing he knows, the world is tilting sideways and disappearing before the absolute darkness of his sight.

—

Coppery light floods the back of his eyelids as he tries to open his eyes.

Sluggishly, he takes in his surroundings.

He doesn’t recognize them as the street he was wandering a while earlier.

“You’ve awoken, I see.”

Now, that voice he’s heard before.

That annoying human is sitting in front of him, an enigmatic smile on their face.

What’s with them and that look of… kindness? in their eyes? He can’t stand it.

The angel quickly sits up, before pain in sharp waves shoots through his back.

“Easy there, you don’t want to reopen them.” The human gives a slight nod, eyes meaningfully glancing in his back’s direction.

Fresh bandages cover the fallen’s back, loose enough that his crooked wings can still move freely.

The irony of it, when he knows he’ll never fly again.

“What gave you the right to bring me here or tend to my wounds?” The dark angel juts his chin upwards, tone haughty.

You raise a brow, crossing your legs from your perch in the chair opposite from the couch he lies in.

The man’s lofty tone surely is in contradiction with his bruised body. But when you notice his movements, and the way he carries himself… They do certainly hold an elegance you can’t quite place.

“Would you have rather bled yourself out to death?”

“I don’t need your pity or you trying to get in my good graces.”

“So, is it just a normal occurrence for you to see someone suffering in front of you and doing nothing?”

’Suffering?’ The angel snorts.

What do you even know about what that feels like?

“You are so pretentious.” He remarks.

“Says the one who insisted he was fine when he literally collapsed on the street.” You cross your arms, leaning forward with a knowing smirk.

He really can’t stand you.

“What’s your name, by the way?” You ask.

He hesitates for a moment, then he supposes it’s fine to tell you, since you are so insistent, maybe you’ll leave him in peace if he answers.

“Ruki.”

You offer him a softer smile, introducing yourself too.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ruki.”

However, the only pleasing interaction you’ve had since he woke up is short lived.

“Well, if you'll excuse me, i have places to be now.” The man who introduced himself as Ruki states, pushing the blanket covering him away.

“Places to be?” You echo, a skeptical smile curving your lips. “Where exactly? The ground of some back alley?” You retort, snorting. “Listen, you literally collapsed from blood loss. Do you honestly expect me to believe you are in any condition to be safe out there in your current state?”

Arguably, no.

If Ruki were to be honest with himself and come to terms with all the feelings he keeps locked inside his iron encased heart, he definitely won’t be okay at all out there.

“And how, pray tell, is that any of your business?” But perhaps being dishonest with himself was one of his very few flaws.

“Well, aren't you stubborn?” You sigh. Your expression softens, gentleness returning to your tone. “Stay the night. Give time for your wounds to at least stop bleeding, have a proper meal and stuff.”

Those stormy eyes of his hold your gaze.

Maybe you hadn’t realized how deep and beautiful they were up until now.

“Fine. One night.” The angel grumbles.

A satisfied grin tugs at your lips as you get up to prepare some snacks.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ruki mukami #diabolik lovers x reader #diabolik lovers headcanons #diabolik lovers fanfiction #ruki mukami x reader #mukami ruki #diabolik boys #diaboys

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cookiecomics · 2 months ago

Note

I’mma preface this by saying I adore your writing, you are one of the best and most prolific writers I have ever had the pleasure of reading from. Also I am only on chapter 46 of ATOTT if anything upcoming might contradict my following statements.

I adore the Robin Hood sugar you’re providing in ATOTT. A lot of writers I’ve noticed favour Loki or oversimplify Robin and Loki as a Shoulder Angel Shoulder Devil situation. Some YT theorists outright disregard Robin as “fake” just because of Akechi’s hypocrisy and take the one line Morgana said in English about one being a Persona for Akechi’s hatred and the other for his lies at face value. Your interpretation is far more compelling.

Going off of the Jungian concept of Personas and Shadows that canon interprets (in which Personas are the masks we wear within certain contexts and Shadows being the “undesirable” parts of ourselves we hide beneath these Personas) my takeaway from your interpretation of Robin Hood and Loki is that Loki is a Persona like the rest of the Phantom Thieves have which reject the expectations placed upon them by polite society, hence why Akechi only wears the signature Black of the Phantom Thieves after summoning Loki rather than the largely white Prince costume.

Meanwhile Robin Hood as a Shadow would be the parts of Akechi that he hides specifically from his father. Shido WANTS Loki and the Call of Chaos. Shido WANTS the unfeeling monster he’s convinced himself his son to be, but Robin Hood represents Akechi’s capacity for love (hence why Robin always talks about Sae and Ren) and his desire for justice for people like himself and his mother. Akechi goes berserk with Loki in the engine room and goes on about how teammates and justice is bullshit because caring for those sorts of things is a weakness that would get him killed in Shido’s world, and he must hide or outright deny the existence of these parts of himself for survival. You can just SEE how Akechi turns away and clenches his fists in suppressed disgust when talking to Shido in canon. Loki and Robin are not simply made up of either “hatred” nor “lies”. Neither is one “good” while the other is “bad”, they just manifested from the multiple masks Akechi wears within different contexts not unlike a wildcard does. The two only appear to be opposites because their goals oftentimes conflict with each other.

Also if my theory that your decision of giving Shadow form Robin Hood glasses as a reference to both Clark Kent for the Superman allusion and Ren Amamiya whom Akechi canonically admires deep down for being “a person who sticks to their justice” I will go Nucking futs.

Thanks for reading my little ramble.

Anon, your ramble has shot through my heart <3 first of all thank you for reading ;3; you're too sweet and i hope you enjoy the rest of the chapters!

Funny you should say that because I specifically wanted neither Loki or Robin hood to be wholly one-dimensional. They're both protective and aspects of how Goro shows his love, both at his anger towards wanting to protect / avenge his loved ones and the capacity he has for nurturing and justice, that as you point out, he actively hides not only from his father but from others. He categorically -refuses- to let the thieves humanize him, unlike Ren, who is constantly pointing at him going -that's pookie-.

Ren sees the light that Goro desperately tries to hide from others, because categorically, Goro doesn't believe his good side means anything when in regard to how his actions should be viewed.

One of the reasons I had both Robin and Loki agree that Goro should sabotage Sumi (sorry Sumi) was to show that Robin isn't this wholly angel figure. At his core, he's still a thief, still a representative of Goro's ideas of justice. So having Robin being perfectly fine with stealing Sumi's man if it came to that was my little wink at that. I love Robin Hood dearly and I'm glad I got to show off how much deep down, Goro just wanted someone to love and care for, just as much as he wanted to be cared for ;3;

anyway thank u for letting me ramble about them ;3; hope u enjoy the rest of the chapters!

#ask #atott

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jesuisserieux · 1 year ago

Text

Prompt 1: Costumes

This is my first fic for the Hoes for Enjolras server's Halloween bingo! It's very soft and silly, just exr being idiots in love but with a Halloween background. I hope people enjoy! You can read it here, or here on ao3. Let me know if you liked it!

Get the Horns

“I look like a goat,” says Enjolras.

“But a very cute goat! Make all the boy goats go WAAAAA!” A silence. Courfeyrac looks between him and Combeferre. “The Princess Diaries 2? Nobody? Okay then.”

“To be honest, I just thought you’d finally lost it,” says Ferre.

“Oh honey, that was years ago.”

Enjolras snorts, “Are you sure this looks right? Like, you’re the fashion expert, but I really do feel like people will think I’m a goat.”

“You’re wearing red,” says Combeferre. “I feel like everyone knows red and horns equals devil.”

Enjolras frowns, “I guess.”

“You don’t have to be a devil,” says Courf, “I just thought it’d be cute if we were matching. Or, not matching. You know what I mean.” He motions to his angel costume.

“Yeah but you have a sparkly halo. No one is going to be confused about your costume. Plus, won’t it be weird if we’re matching and Ferre is just… Luke Skywalker?”

“That was his choice,” says Courf, “I told him he could be an angel with me.”

“That would be weird,” says Ferre, “One devil, two angels? Makes no sense. Plus, I promised Musichetta I would do the Skywalkers twins with her like, nine months ago.”

“I guess until we meet up with everyone we can just say we’re the devil and the angel on your shoulders.”

“The Jedi and the Sith,” suggests Enjolras.

Ferre and Courf say “Nerd,” in perfect unison, even though this is obviously hypocrisy of the highest order.

He scoffs, “Whatever, are we ready to go now?”

“Oh so now you want to go to the party?” teases Courf. “I wonder what changed…”

“I still don’t want to go to the party. But you talked me into it, so I’m at least going to be on time.”

“It’s not because R said he could come after all?” Ferre raises a skeptical eyebrow.

Enjolras shoots him a betrayed look. “I already agreed to go before he said that.”

“Yeah but you weren’t nearly as eager, before.”

“Your face is the same color as your costume,” says Courf, looking at him in the mirror as he applies mascara.

“Are we going or not?” Enjolras pretends to be looking at something on his phone, to hide his face.

Courf snorts, “Nice subject change. Subtle. But sure, I’m done with my makeup, let’s head out.” He straightens up, and in his heels, he’s face level with Enjolras.

“It’s weird to see you at this angle,” he says.

“Oh fuck off,” says Courf lightheartedly.

“You’re both still short to me,” says Combeferre.

Enjolras protests, “You’re like, three inches taller than me.”

“Four.”

“Oh my god.”

“Okay!” interjects Courf, “let’s go.”

The party, when they get there, is in full swing. It’s not the loudest party ever- Enjolras and Combeferre wouldn’t have come if it was- but the bass is still loud enough, that they have to get close to yelling to be heard. Enjolras isn’t actually sure whose house this is. Presumably, somebody Courf knows, but that doesn’t narrow it down a lot. Whoever it was, they went all out on decorations. There are fake spider webs and skeletons everywhere, and everything is bathed in slime green light.

Courf gets them each a cup of punch from a bowl that looks like a cauldron. He takes a sip from his own cup and winces. “Don’t drink that fast, it’s sweet but it’s strong as fuck.”

Enjolras really hadn’t been planning on getting drunk in the first place, so he just nods and takes a sip. Goddamn. Courf wasn’t kidding. “What the fuck is in this?”

“What isn’t?” says someone from behind him. He turns around to see Grantaire, only a few inches away from him and looking way too hot, despite being dressed as-

“What are you?” he asks, taking in the fishnets, the makeup, the lampshade under one arm-”

“Oh!” R takes the lampshade and perches it on top of his head, “I’m a sexy lamp.”

The unfortunate thing is that any costume Grantaire wears would be sexy in Enjolras’s opinion. Including a fucking lamp.

“You’re something all right,” says Combeferre, saving Enjolras the embarrassment of saying any of that out loud.

“What the fuck are you supposed to be?” asks R. I can tell with these two but how does yours connect?”

“It doesn’t. I’m Luke Skywalker. Musichetta is Leia.”

“We would have included him,” says Courf, “but apparently he and Chetta planned this months ago. So now we just look like we’re excluding him.” Ferre scoffs. “We do! Everyone is going to think we’re terrible best friends, and we left you out of our Halloween costume.”

“I don’t think anyone here is sober enough to think that,” says R.

Enjolras searches his brain frantically for something clever to say in response, but he comes up empty, still too preoccupied by Grantaire, and more specifically, Grantaire’s legs in fishnets.

“You good Apollo?” asks R, “I didn’t think the punch was that strong.”

Enjolras blinks. He’s just been staring into space. This is why he doesn’t go out. “Sorry! I’m good. Just… spaced out.”

“Can’t take you anywhere,” says Courf affectionately. He ruffles Enjolras’s hair, and Enjolras smacks his hand away. He looks to Ferre for support but he’s already making his way across the room to Musichetta, who’s brandishing a lightsaber.

“You fucked up his horns,” R says Courfeyrac. He reaches out to fix them, his hands rearranging Enjolras’s hair.

“I’ll see you guys later,” says Courf, not even pretending to have an excuse for leaving. Enjolras can’t even say anything as he leaves, because his brain is devoid of words on account of R touching him.

“There,” says R, tucking some hair behind his ear, “all good.”

“Thanks.” His mouth is so dry.

“So did Courf choose the costume?”

“Uh… yes! Yeah. I think I look like a goat.” He tries not to outwardly wince listening to himself.

Luckily, Grantaire seems to find it funny, thank god. He laughs loudly and gives Enjolras a skeptical onceover. “Why on earth would anyone think you were a goat, Apollo?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Horns.” He can feel his face heat up. “I’m not wearing red face paint.”

“Even so, why would they assume ‘goat’ instead of ‘devil’ for a Halloween costume?”

“Well when you put it like that it sounds stupid…”

R laughs again. “You’re such a weirdo.” It’s said so affectionately, Enjolras can’t meet his eyes.

“You’re the one dressed as a sexy lamp,” he mumbles in the direction of his shoes.

“Touche,” says R. There’s an awkward silence. Enjolras takes another sip of his incredibly strong punch for lack of anything better to do. “You wince every time you take a sip of that,” notes R.

“It tastes like windex mixed with juice.”

“You’re probably not that far off. Here,” R takes the cup from him and sets it down. “They have ciders in the fridge, that seems more your speed.” Absentmindedly, R grabs his wrist to pull him through the crowd of people. Enjolras is going to combust.

The kitchen is brighter and quieter thank god, although the light means Grantaire can see how red his face is.

“You okay?” he asks, as he hands Enjolras some rose cider drink from the fridge.

“Huh? Yeah good.” Grantaire smirks. The bottle feels good on his warm face.

“You sure you’re not drunk already?” asks R.

“From two sips of punch? Even I’m not that much of a lightweight.”

“No?” R puts a hand to his face, “You’re really warm.” He can probably feel Enjolras’s heartbeat in his fucking forehead with how fast it’s going. He looks down, hoping R won’t see the flush creeping up his ears. Being this pale is a curse. “Apollo?” R taps his cheek and he looks up reflexively. He’s so close.

“I’m fine! Just- nervous.” He wants to melt into the kitchen floor. Why would he say that! Literally anything else would be better, now R’s going to ask why he’s nervous and he’s not going to have a good answer besides it’s really hard not to stare at your mouth right now.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah. I mean you- this- uh, just isn’t my scene. Parties. You know?” Oh god he needs to find a way out of this conversation before he keeps talking.

“Do I make you nervous, Apollo?” asks R in a tone that seems half joking half- flirtatious? That’s probably wishful thinking on his part.

“Uh-” he opens his mouth but only a few nonsense syllables come out. He shuts it again, tries desperately to think of something cool and funny to say. It’s taking too long. Oh god it’s taking too long why can’t he say something?”

“It’s okay,” says R, “you’re cute when you’re flustered.” Hang on what? “Plus, people will definitely know what your costume is.” He pats Enjolras’s burning cheek. “You don’t even need red face paint.” He looks far too proud of that little quip as he slips back out of the kitchen. Enjolras doesn’t even attempt to say anything. It’s just static up there anyway. Courf was right earlier, his face does, in fact, match his costume.

#enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #les amis #les mis #exr #courfeyrac #combeferre #my writing #halloween bingo 2023 #hoes for halloween bingo challenge 2023 #fluff #idiots in love #my wriitng

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alexanderlightweight · 2 years ago

Note

How about one where Alec’s siblings try to give him an ultimatum after he and Magnus start dating. Like it’s him or us kind of thing?

Hey! Thanks for prompt!! Hope you enjoy 💜

—

“Do you even think before you spew shit out?” Alec asks, having perfectly thought out what he himself was going to say. “No—“ he holds up a hand. “Don’t actually try to answer that, I have no faith in whatever you’re about to say. So tell me one thing, just one thing. Did the four of you—“ Alec pauses and gives Simon what he knows the vampire calls his ‘disappointed assassin!dad look’. He goes even paler under his death pallor and Alec sighs. “Did you even consider how dangerous what you're asking could be for Magnus?”

“Magnus is more than powerful enough, we all know that now.” Clary explains, like that makes it better.

It doesn’t.

“It’s not about if he’s capable. Obviously he’s powerful enough. It’s about whether or not even the slightest risk to Magnus’ safety is worth the outcome you’re trying to get. And it’s not. I’ve run the risk and it’s not an acceptable one.”

“You’re seriously going to choose your boyfriend over the mission?” Jace asks and Alec sends him a dry, unimpressed look at the hypocrisy.

“At least he is my boyfriend.” Alec murmurs, because Jace didn’t even have an official relationship to blame for his actions regarding Clary for a long time.

“Okay.” And Alec settles in his chair and clears his throat. “So here’s what we’re not going to do. We’re not going to do the ‘you’re picking Magnus over the mission. Or ‘you’re picking Magnus over me’.” And here he gives them all a tired look.

“It’s going to be yes, obviously I’m going to pick Magnus. I've lost Magnus three times now and each time the likelihood of getting him back became less and less each time. Magnus is my husband. I don’t care who it is. You could be bleeding out, begging me with your whole soul to do something that would put him even just a little bit of harm's way, and I’d say no.

“Because it’s not Magnus’ job or responsibility to do such a thing. And as your superior, I’m telling you right now, that no one will argue with me. Because every single Institute in this realm knows that Magnus Bane has a very protective, possessive asshole of a boyfriend. One who legally jacked up the price of every single magical and mundane service Magnus offers to the clave. And currently, the New York Institute doesn’t have the funds to pay his rates. Because we’re still paying off the debt you four — and yes Simon you are included in that thanks to Clary and Izzy — all racked up, calling Magnus like you had a stack of quarters and he’s an arcade.”

Alec takes a weary breath and ignores Simon murmuring, “how does he know what an arcade is?”

And Izzy’s quick and quiet, “Magnus took him and Madzie to one.”

It’s only Alec’s business if he enjoys showing off the knowledge he learns at Magnus’ side.

“So you three are going off duty. Turn your phones in to Andrew. You can go through our databases and see if there’s a warlock who would be willing to work with you in our pay grade. Simon, leave.”

“You can’t take our phones!” Clary protests and while Alec doesn’t actively hate her anymore, his glare still stops her in her tracks.

Alec will assign her ichor duty if she shows insubordination and she knows it.

“If I leave you your phones, you’re just going to call every single downworlder you know starting with Magnus.” Alec knows exactly how this plays out. “You’ll interrupt the valuable time of people who have frankly, more important things to do than save you some time and brain power.

“And even if one of them, maybe Maia, is willing to help you out, she’s a mixologist learning to be a marine biologist. She’s not going to know shit about the kind of abilities you need. So you’d just be wasting her time twice over

“So look through the database, ignore any clave bias in the portfolios and be respectful when you call. You’re making a request, not a demand.”

Alec is very pleased with himself, even if the group is looking at him with varying degrees of confusion and irritation. And then he hears a noise and looks over them to see Magnus.

Magnus is watching him with his gold eyes melting into amber the longer their gazes stay connected.

“We are gonna just go.” Simon mutters, “right now. Immediately, we should definitely go. I will leave. Text me when you’re not grounded and get your cell phones back okay?”

“We’re not grounded.” Clary quietly protests but Jace clamps a hand over her mouth, probably recognizing the look on their faces from his ill-fated stay at the loft.

“Uh, assassin-daddy-vibes over there definitely grounded you. And because my life might be at stake—“ Simon waggles his brows and ignores the groans. “I am definitely obeying his house rules. And also I think I might be either mentally scarred for life or forced to confront parts of me I am not prepared for if I have to watch them jump each other.”

Alec ignores them.

This is the reason why he lets them keep Simon around, he’s like a little Shetland sheepdog desperately trying to keep his incredibly reckless ponies together.

“That all sounded very familiar.” Magnus says quietly as he steps past them, shutting the door behind him as. There is something soft and almost uncertain when he asks.

“I try to listen when you talk.” Alec admits and shrugs his shoulders, “sometimes it’s hard when I’m tired. Or if it’s something frustrating because I don’t understand. But I figure if I don’t understand it I just need to listen harder.”

“Even my clave hating rants at six am when you’re covered in ichor and passing out on me in the shower?”

Alec shrugs again, “sometimes those are the most important ones. You got hurt and we were separated because the clave summoned us to two different battles. Because your safety isn’t a priority for them. It’s why I put so many new protocols in place. The only one I can trust to protect your back is me.” Alec believes it wholeheartedly.

He trusts no single other person to put Magnus’ well being above the world. Because even Cat now has Madzie and they lost Ragnor. And one night; when Magnus had taken Madzie out for a movie, Cat had come over to talk.

Because she could not handle not having the assurance of someone who would put Magnus first. And she didn’t trust Alec, not until he spilled his blood and swore a secret vow.

And so the two of them; they’d promised each other. That Cat would always put the little girl the three of them loved first.

And Alec would always put Magnus before anything. Even above the survival of their realm.

Alec will cut out his own heart if it means Magnus’ still beats and Cat watched him swear that vow on his runes and divinity and had finally known some peace. Because Alec is also willing to lose a piece of his soul if it means keeping Magnus safe; and Cat knows that too.

“My darling,” Magnus murmurs and Alec will always endeavor to put that look on his face. “And you’d choose me over any of them.”

Magnus says it wonderingly, like it’s a deep shock and his hands are cupping Alec’s face and he wants to meld into them as he nods.

And Alec knows Magnus won’t entirely believe him, and it’s not Magnus’ fault that he can’t yet.

But Alec is going to spend every day of the rest of his life proving that he will always and forever put Magnus first.

Like he should have done from the start.

“I’m a selfish man.” Alec admits softly, “how can I not put you first, when you’re the very heart of me?”

#shadowhunters #mood #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #immortal husbands #writing wednesdays #writing wednesday #lumine writes #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets #prompt fic #prompt fill

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