#i was not the first one done but the other people seem to have taken off already | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ambiguous-avery · 2 days ago

Text

When He Slides In...

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 2768

Summary: ...And says “Fuck, I missed you.” After a hookup with the (in)famous Dean Winchester, you figured that would be the end of it. Too bad you could never seem to get him out of your mind. People always told you that you got attached too easily. And they were right. You were just another notch in his belt. He couldn’t possibly remember you...

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, no use of Y/N, she/her pronouns, femme nicknames (sweetheart, pretty girl), reader is AFAB, oral (f receiving), P in V sex, PWP (Plot? What plot?), pining, pure filth because I have no chill, no beta we die like men

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for far too long. This was the title of an audio I listened to, and the line lives in my head rent-free. Plus I figured this would be a great birthday gift for our one and only boy! Thanks to my bestie for reminding me of this momentous day!

The first time you met the Winchesters – and subsequently ended up beneath the eldest – was when you had called for some back up with a vampire nest you had found in a rural town in South Dakota. It was a routine hunt, but the nest had taken up residence on a farm with far too many places to be ambushed from. Thankfully, there was enough practiced experience between the three of you that the hunt only left you with several bruised ribs, Dean with a too-close-for-comfort almost bite, and Sam with a bloody gash cutting across his cheek. All in all, it could’ve been much worse. You had joined the two of them at a bar in town, eager to take a well-deserved moment of reprieve. And you left the bar with Dean. Just Dean.

After you parted ways, you fully accepted that it would be a one night stand, and your paths would never cross again.

Fate had different plans for you.

It was a standard haunted house case that pulled you to a small town in the middle of bumfuck, Iowa. Something something father killed his family when he was discovered having an affair before turning the weapon onto himself. And now he was killing other cheaters in the town. You’d have been tempted to leave him be – was he really doing harm by getting rid of those kinds of people? – if it weren’t for the fact that he would go after the affair partner as well who wasn’t always aware of just who they had gotten in bed with. It was a cut and dry case. Except you couldn’t find where the damn body had been buried, so you were having a hell of a time salting and burning the bones. The extended family had been so ashamed of what their son had done that they had buried him in an unmarked grave on the outskirts of town.

You had just about hit the end of your rope when two very familiar Winchester boys rolled into town in a sleek Impala that purred like a kitten. And there he was. The one and only Dean Winchester, all swagger and bravado, and fuck, had he gotten hotter? Seriously, God hadn’t played around when chiseling him from marble.

“Hey, sweetheart, long time no see.” He grinned at you, his voice rumbling.

Leave it to the grave-desecration-brothers to pinpoint where the cheater had been buried. It took several hours in the library pouring over a convoluted family tree before the three of you eventually found a living descendant and another hour talking with her and convincing her to let you guys go through old family books she had stored in her attic. Cheater’s sister happened to jot down which grave was his in her diary. Bleeding heart saved the day. You had ‘cheers’ed to that before knocking back your beer and excusing yourself from the bar with Dean in tow.

Despite the long span of time you had spent apart, Dean was still familiar to you. The way his lips felt as he kissed you. The way your body seemed to slot against his just right. You couldn’t forget how he felt. Not when every touch of his had seared your skin and left imprints in its wake. Dean had ruined you for anyone else. Because he didn’t just leave his marks on your body. He had carved out a piece of your heart and taken it, leaving a hole in it that ached with every beat. Dean was a heartbreaker, and you were just another name on a long list of casualties. But you were on that list, and you lied to yourself, convinced yourself that it was good enough for you.

“Dean,” you sighed against his lips, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Glad you didn’t forget me, sweetheart,” he said quietly, kissing you again. You could never forget him. Could never forget the way his hands felt as they teased at the hem of your shirt before sliding up your side. Could never forget the scent of leather and bourbon and cedar that encompassed him. Could never forget the way he looked at you and you let yourself believe just for a fleeting moment that maybe, maybe, you were something more than a hookup in his eyes. Dean’s touch was a flame, and he was going to kindle your entire world to ashes. And as long as he kept looking at you like that, you would let him. Over and over and over again.

He trailed kisses along your cheek, across your jaw, and further down the side of your neck. His lips left your skin just long enough to slide your shirt over your head and make quick work of the clasp of your bra. He sucked a bruise just below your collarbone then soothed it with his tongue before dipping lower. Dean was attentive, leaving no part of you physically untouched but all of you still wanting. His nose dragged between the valley of your breasts, leaving another mark there.

“You’re gorgeous; I hope you know that, sweetheart,” he murmured, and your response died in your throat as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, toying with it with his tongue.

There was so much you couldn’t say. Couldn’t tell him how much more you wanted from him. It was silly. You barely knew him in the bedroom and even less outside of it. But there was an undeniable spark between the two of you that you couldn’t shake. An unspoken pull. Something that kept the two of you in the other’s orbit. You were doubtful Dean felt it. It was just you and your silly little heart looking for anything to quell the loneliness that threatened to consume you.

Dean moved lower, deftly ridding you of the last of your clothing so you were bare for him. And then his mouth was on you, stubble scratching lightly, and all thoughts were wiped from your mind in an instant. His fingers dug into your thighs, all lips and tongue on your clit and folds and fu-uck. You carded your fingers in his short hair, nails scratching against his scalp. He groaned, a low and guttural sound that sent vibrations through your core, and your answering cry was breathless, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his head or the bed sheets or anywhere. The sigh you let out when he slid a finger in you must’ve unraveled some of his self control because a second one joined it none too soon. He curled them, and your back arched.

If you could form coherent thoughts, you might have had the wherewithal to wonder about when or where or how he learned his talents. But such wasn’t the case as everything tightened. Your tension collapsed into a litany of moans and gasps, and Dean was a solid presence between your legs. He was a maestro, and you were his instrument. He plucked at your strings until you came shuddering around his fingers, your nails biting into his skin. He coaxed you through your release, gently sucking and keeping a steadying hand on your leg. Your head fell back against the pillow, chest heaving. There were too many words that threatened to be the next to spill from you, so instead, you pulled Dean up by the hair and put every word you wanted to say to him in a kiss. It was deep and longing and you tried so hard to tell him just how lucky you felt that you got him for the night with it. If that’s all you ever got of him, it would be enough. It wouldn’t really, but you could delude yourself long enough to convince him.

He met your passion, one hand tangling in your locks and the other slipping beneath you to press against your lower back to provide counterpressure as he rolled his hips against yours. Your jaw went slack as you felt the length of him pressed against you, hot and heavy and hard beneath his jeans. You tugged at his shirt, desperate to get more skin to skin contact. Gasoline coursed through your veins, and if Dean didn’t set you ablaze this very instant, you were sure you would spontaneously combust. Thankfully, Dean was a smart man. He picked up on your desperate plea and stripped out of his shirt before briefly standing up to strip out of the rest of his clothes.

As he looked down at you, his green eyes met yours, and you could see him searching for something. Acceptance? Approval? Adoration? All three? You’d give him all of those. Whatever it was, you could only hope that he found it as you looked up at him, sprawled out on the bed and propped up on your elbows. You took your time taking him in. The cut of his jaw. The broad expanse of his shoulders. The tattoo that sat just above his left pec. Your gaze dropped lower, and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip before dragging your eyes back up to his again.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” you ask, a sly smile tugging at the edge of your lips.

Dean pounced. He yanked you into a kiss, messy and primal, crushing you into the bed with his weight. You responded in kind by dragging your nails down the length of his back, needing to leave a mark of your own on him so maybe he’d remember you for more than a fleeting night. Dean groaned low in his throat, the sound ringing in your ears. There were no barriers left between you two, and you arched your body up into his, looking for all the contact you could possibly find. His hand dropped down to your ass and pulled you against him, his cock frotting against the junction of your hip. You raked your fingers in his hair and pulled it, pressing your mouth to the side of his neck and biting and sucking there until Dean was cursing under his breath.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” Dean bit out. You released him, eyes locked onto the angry red mark you had left. He fumbled with his discarded pants for a brief moment before pulling a condom from the pocket.

“Smart man... smarter than me."

It was good that he had his wits about him because you were more than ready to throw caution to the wind. You were a hunter. You risked your life every day. What was one more risk? You knew you’d be thankful when your brain wasn’t drowning in lust, though. He rolled the condom over himself before kneeling between your legs again. He grabbed the backs of your knees and spread your legs wide, lifting your ass off the bed before settling it on his thighs. Dean took a moment to guide his cock into place. His gaze met yours again, waiting and pleading. You gave him a subtle nod.

Dean rolled his hips, sinking into you with slow thrusts. You audibly sighed as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He said your name, reverent and sincere. He said your name. Not sweetheart. Not baby. Not some nickname he probably used to mask the fact that he forgot the name of the woman under him. Your name. You whimpered.

“Dean... I missed you too,” you admitted. But he didn’t understand the depths of your words. He couldn’t. He kept a hand on your knee, keeping you splayed open for him. You braced a hand on the headboard and turned your face aside, biting the knuckle of one of your fingers and panting into it.

“No, no, pretty girl. Keep your eyes on me,” he said, leaning forward to grab your chin and guide your eyes back to him. The shift caused him to sink just a little deeper into you. You squeaked when your eyes met green ones. There, behind the lust and desire, there was Dean. And for a moment, you could see the vulnerability there. The lonely man who wanted to be needed. Needed to be wanted.

“Move, Dean. I need you.”

And that’s all it took. Dean surrendered to what felt good and snapped his hips, pounding into you, thrilling at the way you moaned and moved with him and accepted every aggressive stroke like you were made for it. He lowered his body and leaned forward onto his hands so he could drive himself deeper into you. His hands found yours, and you entwined your fingers with his. He pinned you to the mattress, caging you beneath him. You shouted in response, your legs clenching against Dean’s sides and the drag of his cock setting every nerve alight.

“There you go, pretty girl. You can take it. You can take me. I know you can.” His words were fuel for the inferno that threatened to devour you. You were trembling. Aching. He was the musician; your body was the instrument. You were a violin string. You were tuned too tight. You were breaking.

Your groans and cries turned to fervent whimpers, and you fought against his hold as your release danced just beyond your reach. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Dean clicked his tongue, commanding your attention. You stared up at him, eyes wide and bright, drinking in the sight of him as though it would be your last.

“Please,” you begged. Your voice sounded so utterly wrecked in your own ears, but you didn’t care. You had abandoned your dignity long ago. “Dean, please. Need more.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He let go of one of your hands, and his thumb found your clit, drawing tight circles around it. “Come on, pretty girl. Need you to come on my cock.” His breaths mingled with yours, and your answering cry was high and thready as you lost yourself in him. Your voice, so needy and desperate, must’ve been enough to be Dean’s undoing because the hand holding yours tightened as he rutted into you until he came in hot, throbbing pulses that sucked the energy out of the rest of his body. You clenched around him, and he let out a strangled groan as his whole body shuddered above you.

He pressed his forehead against yours, brushing stray hairs out of your face with his free hand. His other still clasped yours tightly, fingers still laced together. You leaned up to kiss him, and your lips met in a tender way. An unburdened, unhurried kiss. A kiss for the sake of kissing. You could’ve stayed like that forever, but all too soon, Dean broke the kiss and peeled himself off of you, his hand leaving yours. He stood, moving to discard the condom before grabbing a towel from the bathroom. You sat up, watching his retreating back and taking pride in the red lines your nails had left in their wake. You could only hope he would remember you.

When he returned with a damp washcloth, he coaxed you back against the pillow as he wiped the sweat from your brow, muttering sweet nothings all the while. There was silence between you for a long while, and you realized too late that your time with him was coming to an end. He had set you aflame, and now you would have to find a way to rebuild. But you’d do it all again if Dean asked it of you. But when he spoke, you hadn’t expected the words that came out of his mouth.

“Do you maybe wanna... you know... stay?” he asked quietly. “For the night,” he added. You swallowed.

“Um... isn’t Sam due back sometime... soon?” Why were you making excuses? This opportunity didn’t even show up in your dreams. Dean wet his lips, not quite meeting your gaze.

“Well... not to be presumptuous or anything... but I might have told him to get his own room for the night.”

“Oh.” Oh. He had planned on you staying with him? You were done for.

“Yeah... Uh, nevermind. You don’t have to. You’ve probably got somewhere better–”

“I’d love to stay,” you blurted out. “With you,” you clarified, as if it weren’t obvious. The smile that split across Dean’s face was blinding, and it became your new life’s mission to do whatever it took to see it directed your way time and time again.

“How about I order us some food? We can watch a movie and cuddle?” And really, you were only human. A request like that from Dean Winchester was as easy to fulfill as breathing.

---

Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Taglist: @checkedoutghost @aylacavebear

Want to join the taglist? Comment or Ask away!

84 notes · View notes

snoopyhughes · 3 days ago

Text

it's you, it's you, it's really all for you (nh13)

Happy winter fic exchange @puckology101 !!! For the plot I had in mind, I didn't think a Swiss Alps trip was realistic but I hope this does the trick. I tried to detail the beautiful Banff scenery as best as I could (especially for someone who has never been!) so I hope you could truly envision that.

As always, @wyattjohnston Demi thank you so much for hosting this event for our community!

This is 2k+ words, I don't believe there's any mentions of any defining traits but I have not done a thorough check to ensure that this is safe for all to read. If you would like me to do that, shoot me a message and I'm more than willing to double check.

Title from Video Games by Lana del Rey (the live version, iykyk) this is loosely edited!

Nico Hischier, in hind sight, was thrilled that Switzerland was not a part of the four nations tournament. His logical, captain sense knows that he should want to play hockey all the time, work on his game, and he does really love international play. However, he needed a break. The high powered, adrenaline filled season had taken a toll on his body and his mental capacity.

But deep down, he was thrilled. Because that means he gets to go on a trip with his best friend, Y/N. When some of the guys who weren't going to four nations decided to get a group together and take a trip to Banff, complete with skiing, the beautiful winter scenery, and two hot tubs on the property, he jumped on the opportunity, even faster when he knew Y/N could come with.

Dawson insisted that he invited his girlfriend because he promised her a trip on the all star break but she ended up not being able to go. Soon enough, almost all of the guys were inviting their partners, save for Luke who insisted on bringing his best friend Dylan Duke, never one for formalities with girls.

Nico was chronically single, but always by choice. He does not have enough fingers and toes to count the amount of times he's tried to show you how much he loves you, more than a friend, but it never works. Either you're lovingly clueless or you don't feel the same way, the latter causing a pit in his stomach. That being said, Nico will always pick you as his plus one to pretty much anything. If you ever suggest that he find a real date, someone who he might want to be romantically involved with, he shrugs it off immediately, letting you know that "he doesn't have time for a relationship right now" and that "you make him happier than any relationship ever could."

Everything leading up to the trip was relatively smooth. The private jet flight (that you'd never get used to) was like flying on a resort, you were able to get time off work with no problem, and even the packing didn't seem like as much of a chore as it usually does. But things started getting interesting as soon as you, Nico, and the group made it to the ski resort. You always knew you'd be sharing a room, that much never bothered you. You'd shared hotel rooms with him before, having not been a first timer on an all star break trip, which is essentially what this was. Coincidentally, all of the people on the trip ended up with rooms right next to each other. When you opened the door, you saw one huge king bed staring right at you.

You and Nico shared a look, assuming that your room may have gotten mixed up with the others. Sure enough, when you knocked on everyone's door, they all had the same set up as you. The only room with two beds on the floor, it seemed, belong to Luke and Dylan. You thought of asking them to switch, but you could only imagine Luke's dramatics and theatrics if you tried to suggest switching rooms.

"It really doesn't bother me, Y/N. As long as it doesn't bother you, I'm fine with it. Besides, did you see the size of that bed? It could probably fit a third person in there also." You really didn't know why you were so nervous. Of course, you had known you had feelings for Nico. But you always felt that Nico could never have any feelings for you. You had watched Nico flirt with girls in the bar after games, even on the trips you went on, awkwardly tagging along on his side. It was the same way he flirted with you sometimes. It made you feel like you were just another girl for him to flirt with. He had a naturally flirty personality, and you were just another person who came in contact with that.

As you opened the door to the bedroom again, accepting your fate, you took a second to look around and truly take in the room. You were amazed at what you saw. When you first walked into the room, you could clearly see the bathroom, with a jacuzzi tub and a waterfall shower, and even a double vanity sink. In addition to the huge bed, there was a massive TV set up across from it, some of the softest towels you've ever countered in your life, and a huge glass sliding door. When you moved the curtains, you couldn't help the gasp that had came over your mouth.

Nico had seen tons of beautiful mountain scenery in his lifetime, growing up in Switzerland. He had seen the mountains, the snow, all of it. And sure, you had seen snow. It was usually tinged with grey and brown, tire tracks and footprints ruining its true beauty. This, this pure, unaltered beauty of the mountain scene in Banff, it took your breath away. Nico couldn't help but smile, seeing your pure joy, watching the breath get stolen from your mouth as you observed the scenes around you.

"Nico this is... wow," you gasped, leaning in when he wrapped his arm around you, feeling him rest his head atop of yours. Your heart fluttered, feeling like you were meant to be here. "You're my best friend," you smiled nuzzling into his side. "Yeah, my best friend."

You should've known with the room situation that the guys were up to something. After all, Dawson insisted on booking the rooms, saying that Nico deserved a break from his "captain duties," causing Nico to rebut that "booking rooms on a vacation is hardly a 'captain's duty.'" But when you turned away from the mountains, you were beginning to discover that it was possible that you and Nico had gotten the "honeymoon suite." You had your own private hot tub on the deck of your room, the first floor patio backing up into a beautiful mountain scene. You imagined snow falling onto your face and hair as you and Nico lounged in the hot tub together. Your cheeks heat up at the thought, causing you to pull away from Nico. You couldn't allow yourself to get too caught up in the what ifs. If Nico really wanted to make a move on you, he would make a move, not the same move he had made hundreds of other times.

You found yourself in your bathroom getting ready with the other girls that were on the trip. Nico had already gotten ready and was downstairs at the bar drinking with the guys. Since you had gotten in to the resort after 5, you knew no skiing would be happening, so you made reservations at a nice restaurant in downtown Banff.

"So, how's it going with you and Nico? Do you like the room?" Dawson's girlfriend giggling, nudging you in the side. "I knew that couldn't have been accidental. Dawson seemed way too excited watching me trying to figure out how to unlock the room door," you laughed, nudging her right back. "It's so foolish. You both clearly love each other, but neither of you will make a move. It makes no sense. If you guys won't do it, someone else had to try it." You sighed, putting the cap on your lip gloss.

"I know what you mean, but I really don't think Nico likes me back. He acts the same way with every other girl he's come across. If Nico really wants to be with me, I want him to make it known, make it obvious. Do something that lets me know that it's me only, not me and the girls at the bar, not me and the girls who wait for him after games, just me." Whether you realized it or not, the other girls were silently taking notes, and as soon as you went to the bathroom at dinner, they told Nico.

When you arrived with the girls at the restaurant, you learned the guys were already waiting at a table. Nico's eyes lit up when he saw you, smiling wide and blushing at your prolonged eye contact. As you came closer to the table, he took a step toward you, pulling you into a hug. His large hand ran along your back as he pulled you in close, causing goosebumps to raise up your arms and on the back of your neck.

"You look absolutely stunning," he whispered in your ear, causing your cheats to heat up, a smile just as big as Nico's. Nico only pulled away to pull your chair out for you, again causing your cheeks to heat up, the girlfriends smiling around you, although you had genuinely no idea because you couldn't stop staring at Nico.

They wondered how you couldn't see how much he cared for you, more than anyone, especially any other girl. Even the guys could see how much he cared for you. The girls understood deep down, knowing how difficult it can be to be able to fully trust a man, especially if you had been hurt in the past by one. Because yes, they were taking notes to share with Nico. But they really didn't need to. And everything they told him, he already knew.

He knew exactly where you'd want to eat, knowing that you craved your comfort food when you were tired. It was the perfect place to eat after a travel day, and getting to the hotel when it was already dark. He knew your preferred seating choice, and of course he knew that you would want a table with a view of the mountains. He didn't care how much it cost him, or that he had to name drop himself (and Luke) to get the table with the view. All that mattered was that he could sit across from you, and watch you admire the view, while he admired you, which was really all that mattered to him.

And nothing felt more perfect than when the rest of the couples started either making their way back to the resort or to the next stop on their drinking trip down the Main Street in Downtown, you and Nico stayed. The two of you stayed, his hand softly brushing yours as you talked, him with his back to the window, taking that spot specifically so that you could see the scenery. And even as everyone left, leaving the two of you at the table alone, all he wanted to do was look at you. The way you smiled, the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you laughed, even the soft yawn you let out towards the end of the night made him smile, his cheeks hurting at the end of the night.

When the uber dropped you two off at the resort at the end of the night, Nico held the door open for you, helping you back into the room. When he moved from the front of your view and you saw what he had done, you couldn't stop the gasp from coming from your mouth. How he had done it while being at the restaurant and you being the last to leave the room, you truly didn't know. But you didn't need the logistics, because it all settled in for you.

It's you. It's always you. It always has been, and always will be. The most beautiful bouquets of your favorite flowers sat around the room, no flower petals on the floor because you both agreed that that was impractical. A bucket of champagne sat cooling right by the glass doors that outlooked the view, the most perfect view. It was then you realized that it was more than Dawson who picked this room, it was Nico, wanting to share the space with you. It was Nico who knew how much you'd love the view. It's Nico. It always has been, and it always will be.

When your eyes locked from across the room, your eyes finally looking up at his, which you knew had been on yours the whole time, you couldn't cross the room fast enough. And when your lips locked with his, everything else floated away. It was like nothing else mattered. As the snow fell in the background just behind you, you knew that it didn't matter where you were, and it didn't matter who came in the way. It was always you.

#nh13 #elle's writing #nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #New Jersey devils imagine #New Jersey devils x reader

125 notes · View notes

ready-to-read7 · 2 days ago

Text

Prompt #5

(this one is being done on my phone because my laptop had to be taken in for service )

This was inspired by two other things. I can’t remember who created the first one but I know it was something about ghost blobs being turned into bees or something and the other one is this one https://www.tumblr.com/lordgrimoire/710110288894099456/the-blob-ghosts

So anyways

(so this includes ghost Prince Danny a lot of ghost blobs a very confused Justice League a much older Danny maybe in his 20s good Fenton parents and redeemed Vlad)

So after Danny became ghost Prince because he was too young to be king somehow for some reason a bunch of ghosts blobsescaped through the portal and buy a bunch I mean a lots of them and because they’re filter feeders and the places where they were going, were very contaminated or had a lot of negative echo energy Danny simply trained the blobs to return to a certain area with a little bit of the echo similar to how bees collect pollen and bring it back to the hive, but the hive is his house and I don’t mean the Fenton house. I mean like his house. That is on a small farm just slightly out of Amity Park the house was a gift from Vlad to say sorry for everything.

So Danny technically became the equivalent of a queen bee to the ghost blobs

And for one reason or another people are starting to see the ghost blobs and no one knows what they are many people find them cute but the Justice League is so confused on what they are.

They try studying them, but they just disappear occasionally and no one has the heart to hurt them because they seem harmless and even Batman won’t allow it because these little things have been helping Jason which he is grateful for

Red Robin eventually discovers that these little things act sort of like bees like they clearly gain something from whatever they’re doing and clearly go somewhere afterwards.

So the bat family and a few other heroes, follow a few ghost blobs back to a house in Illinois and they discover a Danny in his ghost form with his small crown above his head interacting with the ghost blobs and they assume that this is the queen or king of these small beings

#dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #danny phantom #batfamily #ghost blobs

136 notes · View notes

yuurei20 · 3 days ago

Text

Translation from Twisted Wonderland the 2nd novel: Overblot Aftermath

"'I see… understood.'

It is difficult to gauge the masked headmage’s expression, but it is Leona whose thoughts are somehow even more unreadable. There is neither anger nor regret. It is as though he had been possessed by a spirit, and it has since been exorcised.

‘Therefore, Savanaclaw Dorm’s participation in the tournament is hereby forfeit, and you will be considered disqualified. Additional consequences are to be decided after all victims’ statements and requests have been taken into account. Is that clear?'

Riddle and Jack watch, in silence, as Leona nods his agreement. Even Ruggie bites his lip in resignation.

The atmosphere is heavy, despite how the string of so many incidents has now come to a close. For all that he despises conflict and for all that it has finally been resolved, Yuuya takes no pleasure in the moment.

So much harm has been done. The injured people, the uproar of the procession, Leona’s overblot—he cannot help but wonder if it all could have been prevented. He and Grim were the first ones to hear about the situation from the headmage. Perhaps there was more they could have done.

Out of everything, the thing that concerns Yuuya the most is Jack. While it did turn into a confrontation with his own dorm, for more than a few reasons he seemed to have been looking forward to the spelldrive tournament more than anyone.

Yuuya remembers how Jack’s eyes had sparkled while he described Leona’s prowess on the field. The tournament will proceed properly, just as he had hoped. But Yuuya feels terrible that Jack himself is not to be a part of it, despite all his anguish and hard work.

Yuuya glances to his side to see Jack wearing a stern expression. It is unlikely that he would be open to receiving sympathy. Knowing this, Yuuya cannot bring himself to speak.

‘Now then, let us head to the infirmary.’

While the headmage attempts to aid him, Leona shakes him off. Several times he fails to rise to his feet, bracing himself with both hands upon the ground—it is an unbearable sight.

Unable to watch any longer Jack opens his mouth, but before he manages to speak there is a different voice, from far away.

‘Everybody hold up!’

‘Hm? Ain’t that Cater?’ Grim squints into the clear blue sky.

Cater is on a broom, and headed straight for them. Behind him there are others coming into sight as well, with Trey in the lead. The shadowy figures grow larger as they approach.

And it seems that Trey has yet to fully recover from his injury: he takes Cater’s hand and gingerly dismounts from his broom, wincing slightly. His ankle must still be paining him."

#twstnovel2 #twisted wonderland #twst translations

68 notes · View notes

hopeful-dawn · 11 hours ago

Text

I find it very interesting how incredibly sheltered Shadow is in the movie, not just compared to other versions of his character, but also to the other characters in the SCU. He doesn't talk a lot, so it's not overly obvious, but his flashback scenes were riddled with subtext. He's clearly an amnesiac when he first falls to earth, so he has literally no idea about... most things, and the military certainly wouldn't have seen fit to teach him about them.

Given the way they kept him locked up in a fluid-filled tube - despite him being awake, alert, seemingly uninjured, and still in his clothes -, and his own admission that they all seemed scared of him and thought he was dangerous, Shadow doesn't seem to have been treated like an actual person, much less a child. And given his reaction to Maria when she first interacted with him (i.e. confused and suspicious even after she was very playful and friendly towards him), she likely was the first person to show him actual kindness, too.

Which makes sense! In the games he was created for the express purpose of being able to cure Maria. She was there for him and cared for him from the start, and undoubtedly made sure he was being treated at least moderately well. And she would have had the leverage to do so, because they were on a civilian space colony where her grandfather, who loved her dearly, was the one spearheading the project. In the movies however, Shadow was an extremely powerful extraterrestrial of unspecified origin, with an unknown purpose for coming to Earth. During the Cold War. He was not a beloved creation; he was a potential threat who was being experimented on by the military.

There's no way that before Maria he'd have been given lessons in Earth cultural practices, or allowed to do things like watch movies or listen to music or even just roam freely throughout the base. They didn't trust him enough to. But without any memories of his own he'd have been easy enough to mold to their liking, so they did teach him how to fight, how to shoot a gun, how to ride a motorcycle, and how to harness his power, because they undoubtedly wanted to use him as a secret weapon against the Soviets and as a power source (why else would they keep him in a military base and store a bunch of containers filled with his highly explosive chaos energy? How else would he have learned how to ride a human motorcycle with such skill?). Weapons aren't people though, and potential threats don't get kindness, lest people get attached to them, and neither are taught anything they don't absolutely need to know to perform their functions.

So yeah. Poor kid was kept emotionally isolated and ignorant, until Maria came in and demanded better for him. Too bad that made her a liability to them, one they felt they had to get rid of after they decided that Shadow needed to be shelved until such a time that they could actually control him. Remember, they were aiming to shoot her, specifically. If they wanted to shoot Gerald or Shadow, they'd have done it at any point afterward. So even though it was an explosion that ultimately killed her, she was slated to die regardless. Gerald and Shadow were considered valuable; she was just a loose end who convinced Shadow he was a person and turned his loyalties from them to herself.

(Those kids never stood a chance. Even if they had escaped, they'd have been hunted down by the military, and she'd have been killed then instead while he was taken into custody. Their fates were sealed the second they stepped foot into that base. Shadow never would have been allowed to have a decent childhood, and Maria never could have treated Shadow as anything other than a fellow child and friend.)

And when he was brought out of stasis he had no time or inclination to fix any of that ignorance (because he was convinced he would die, along with the rest of the world). All of which puts him in a very disadvantageous spot by the end of the movie, because he's going to be so lost once he wakes back up on earth.

Does he know how to read in any language or how to do basic arithmetic? Does he know any geography or how to read a map? Does he know any first aid or wilderness survival skills? Since he wasn't created in a lab, does he need to eat and drink, and if so does he know what's safe for him to consume? These are all things he might need to know if he's going to try and survive on his own, and unfortunately he also almost certainly doesn't know how to use a computer or a telephone, which would be his main two ways of getting that kind of information if he can't outright ask anyone.

To take it even further, because of his amnesia, does Shadow even know that he's supposed to be a hedgehog?? Does he know what the chaos emeralds are, or that they're emeralds at all, or why he went god mode upon touching them? Does he know that Sonic survived after he passed out and fell to earth? And also, did literally anyone ever tell him Sonic's name??

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic movie 3 #shadow the hedgehog #maria robotnik #text post #meta

46 notes · View notes

angelseraphines · 27 days ago

Text

ೃ⁀➷ playing dangerous ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ player 177. your assigned number. the three digits stitched in stark white thread on the coarse forest-green tracksuit now clinging to your body. you didn’t remember putting it on. you didn’t remember anything between falling asleep in your cramped apartment and waking up in this sterile, alabaster void. the tracksuit was loose in some places, tight in others, the fabric rough against your skin, a similar sensation for the discomfort that had settled deep into your bones.

˚ ༘♡ the air here was heavy, oppressive. tension hung over the room like a storm cloud, pressing down on everyone in its path. you sat on the thin mattress of your cot, the iron bars of the bedframe biting into your back as you leaned against them. your throat was dry, your lips chapped, and a faint crust of dried blood clung to the edge of your mouth, an unpleasant reminder of the chaos you’d barely survived. in your lap rested a cold metal bento box, unopened. the thought of eating its contents of rubbery eggs and starchy rice, made your stomach churn. it wasn’t hunger gnawing at you but dread. eating felt like acknowledging the possibility of another day here, in this place where death lingered so close you could almost taste it.

˚ ༘♡ death. it wasn’t something you’d ever had to think about seriously before. you were young, healthy enough, aside from the occasional winter flu. life’s struggles had been mundane, bills, work, nothing quite noteworthy. you’d thought financial trouble was the worst of your problems. how naive that seemed now. the sharp crack of gunfire still rang in your ears, and the memory of bodies crumpling mid-run played in an endless loop in your mind. every scream, every desperate gasp for air as life left someone’s body, was etched into your mind.

˚ ༘♡ this wasn’t life. it was survival, twisted into something grotesque. children’s games weaponized against desperate people for the amusement of others, with the promise of money as bait. one hundred million won for every life taken. your own life, reduced to a figure on a balance sheet. you’d survived the first game, the horrifying version of red light, green light, but at what cost? surely, after witnessing such carnage, the others would have voted to leave. you’d been certain of it. but the desperation was stronger. greed was stronger. most players had chosen to stay, ignoring the horrors of what lay ahead.

˚ ༘♡ “the next game,” player 456 had said, “will be cutting shapes out of dalgona candy. pick the triangle. it’s the easiest.” his voice had carried a strange conviction, and he claimed to know these games intimately, even to have won before. but how could you trust him? maybe he was lying, or maybe it didn’t matter. maybe none of you were meant to leave this place alive.

˚ ༘♡ “hey, 177!” the crude voice shattered your thoughts, dragging you back to the present.

˚ ༘♡ you glanced up to see player 230, “thanos,” as he called himself, sauntering toward you. his garish purple hair stood out like a bruise against the sterile backdrop, and his brightly colored nails flashed as he gestured. he’d painted them to match the infinity stones, leaning fully into the nickname he’d given himself. behind him, player 124 followed, all sharp angles and slicked-back hair, his grin as eager and sly as ever.

˚ ༘♡ ��why didn’t you vote for one more game, huh?” thanos sneered, his voice laced with mockery. “you had no problem playing foul last round.”

˚ ༘♡ you frowned, rising slowly to your feet. “you and i both know it was an accident,” you replied steadily. “everyone was running for their lives. i didn’t block your way on purpose. we both finished in time, didn’t we? no harm done.”

˚ ༘♡ he rolled his eyes, his expression exaggerated and spontaneous. “yeah, sure, whatever. typical cold-hearted bitch behavior.”

˚ ༘♡ player 124 cackled at the insult, his laughter harsh and grating. “that’s right. cold, stuck-up bitch,” he echoed, his voice dripping with scorn.

˚ ༘♡ their taunts were designed to provoke you, but you refused to give them the satisfaction. your hands curled into fists, but you forced yourself to relax them, forced yourself to breathe. these two thrived on conflict, and the best thing you could do was walk away. you turned on your heel, ignoring their shouts, and started to move toward the far corner of the room.

˚ ༘♡ “hey! i’m talking to you!” thanos barked, stumbling after you with heavy, uncoordinated steps. he didn’t get far. player 001 stepped into his path, his expression stoic and unyielding.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t you boys have any respect?” player 001 asked, his voice quiet but firm. there was something about him, an emanation of authority that made everyone within earshot pause.

˚ ༘♡ thanos bristled, his arrogance faltering for just a moment. “mind your own damn business, old man,” he snapped, jerking forward.

˚ ༘♡ player 001 didn’t flinch. when thanos lunged at him, the older man moved with startling precision, sidestepping the punch with ease. he grabbed thanos by the wrist mid-swing and twisted sharply, forcing a guttural yelp from the younger man as his knees buckled. with a swift motion, player 001 yanked him forward and drove an elbow into his chest, the dull, cracking impact echoing in the room. thanos collapsed onto the floor, clutching his ribs and coughing violently.

˚ ༘♡ player 124 scrambled forward, his face twisted in fury. “bastard!” he yelled, charging with reckless abandon. player 001 turned just in time, catching the younger man by the collar and using his momentum against him. a sharp twist and a well-placed shove sent player 124 sprawling into the edge of a nearby cot, the metal frame rattling as he hit it with a thud.

˚ ༘♡ the fight wasn’t over. thanos struggled to his feet, his face contorted in pain and rage. “you’re gonna regret that, old man,” he spat, lunging again. this time, player 001’s response was more deliberate. he ducked under thanos’s wild swing, stepped inside his reach, and delivered a devastating blow to his lower torso. the younger man doubled over, gasping, before player 001 swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor once more.

˚ ༘♡ not finished, player 124 staggered up again, charging at player 001 with fists raised. the older man sidestepped and grabbed player 124 by the arm, wrenching it behind his back and forcing him to the ground with a hoarse cry of pain. he planted a knee firmly against player 124’s spine, holding him there as the younger man squirmed and cursed.

˚ ༘♡ thanos, blood now trickling from his nose, crawled toward his friend, wheezing apologies and swearing obscenities all at once. player 001 released player 124 with a shove, stepping back as the two younger men lay crumpled together on the floor.

˚ ༘♡ the room was silent, every player watching in stunned awe. then, slowly, the silence broke into cheers and clapping. player 001 straightened his posture, his expression as calm and inscrutable as ever. without a word, he turned and walked back to where player 456 and a few others were gathered, leaving the two troublemakers to nurse their wounds.

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, then followed him. when you reached his side, you spoke softly. “i wanted to thank you, sir. if you hadn’t stepped in, they wouldn’t have stopped harassing me and disturbing the peace. you’ve done us all a favor.”

˚ ༘♡ player 001 turned to look at you, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly before he nodded. he said nothing, his expression unreadable. there was something deeply weary about him, a weight that seemed to press down on his shoulders. his posture was rigid, his face lined with exhaustion, and though he was relatively handsome, it was the kind of masculine appeal eroded by time and hardship.

˚ ༘♡ you wondered what had brought him here, what had led him to the point where he’d chosen, or been pushed into, to enter this place. you didn’t ask. prying into his past would be an impolite gesture and an indignity for what he had done for you.

a/n: my first squid game fanfiction! i definitely want to write more for hwang in-ho in the future so let me know if you have any requests! 🤍

4K notes · View notes

reyalvr · 7 months ago

Text

SHE'S MINE | 01

I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊ 3.2k

author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!

prev. | next

KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…

But it wasn’t.

He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face.

You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up?

“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?”

Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.”

Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.

“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you.

You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him.

“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his.

Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate.

“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”

Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on.

“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.”

Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.

“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”

“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.”

You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-”

You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”

He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson.

Shit. Strike two.

You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”

Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him.

“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag.

He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself.

“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance.

“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours.

“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.

Strike three.

THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours.

Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger.

He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence.

“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you.

“No.” You replied bluntly.

“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up.

“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”

You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place.

“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking.

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat.

And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices.

It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd.

It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.

“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system.

“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”

At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.”

“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.”

“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone.

For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.

You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on.

“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something.

“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.”

He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”

“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously.

“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”

“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board.

“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely.

“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words.

He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.

“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off.

“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”

“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan.

“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him.

He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything.

“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”

He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.

“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.”

He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door.

“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.”

Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in.

Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while.

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.”

You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features.

He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”

Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation.

“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.”

“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine.

Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

5K notes · View notes

nanamiscocksleeve · 7 days ago

Text

My Beloved Boys

Warnings: MDNI, sex, virginity loss, threesome, oral (m rec), clit play, childhood friends to lovers trope. Liberties taken with the timeline, this is not the canon timeline, ages have been changed for story convenience. ANGSTY. A/n: Caleb got me ya'll. I tried, I tried really hard, I promise. And now this is what my ovulating brain has cooked up. Please enjoy it. I know this wasn't on my upcoming but I couldn't help it. Also please note, reader, Caleb, and Zayne are all the same age aka 18 here. Not proofread, expect raw text and descriptions.

It had been a few weeks since you’d joined UNICORNS and Tara invited you over to her place for a girls’ weekend. All of you were comfortably laid out in different parts of her living room, drinking wine and eating slices of pizza from the box.

The night had been fun, and with an entire bottle now empty, the women were loosening up and the topics were getting more and more risque. From complaining about exes to sex, to size measurements, they had finally arrived on the subject of virginity.

“So, what was your first time like?” All eyes are suddenly fixed on you and you feel self-conscious. Taking a sip of your wine, you try not to flush as you vividly remember all the details like it was yesterday.

“Oh, you know. Awkward. Shy. The usual.” You try to act nonchalant but Tara leans forward with a gleam in her eye.

“Oh come on! Tell us!”

Looking at the crowd of eager faces, you empty your glass before confessing, “My first time…was with two people.” You wait with bated breath, and slowly, one by one, everyone’s eyes widen with comprehension.

“Excuse me?” Tara squeals and sinks her fingers into your arm. You wince and pry her off.

“A threesome for your first time?” One of the other women joined in, a huge grin on her face. “Did it hurt?”

“Why a threesome? Was it something you fantasized about?”

You shake your head no at all the questions. “No. Growing up, I had two best friends and I loved them dearly. I just…couldn’t choose between them both.”

“Tell us everything.” Tara sits down on the carpet and all the women gather in a tight circle looking eagerly at you. You sigh and extend your glass.

“Get me more wine.”

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

~Flashback~

It was the summer after graduating senior year. You were enjoying what would possibly be the last summer before everyone went their separate ways. Life had been rough for you, losing your family several years earlier. But now, you had a grandmother, and 2 best friends who had been through everything with you. Still, the memories brought back a sense of bittersweet nostalgia. Your nextdoor neighbor Zayne, and your grandmother’s other ward Caleb, were your inseparable companions since you had moved in with Josephine after the devastating wanderer attack that had destroyed most of Linkon City.

Zayne and Caleb were alike, yet different. Both of them were tall and intelligent. Zayne was stoic and introverted, whereas Caleb was extroverted and easygoing. Somehow, the three of you became a unit, never seen without the other two in tow. Any escapades or shenanigans were always done together. You’d done homework together, fell asleep on the living room floor watching cartoons, and shared many meals in the last few years. The idea of being without them seemed unthinkable. Impossible in fact. You’d assumed you would all stay together in Linkon forever.

That had all changed last year, the summer before your senior year. You had been looking forward to spending the summer with Zayne and Caleb. But as the three of you had sat down at your usual boba tea spot, Zayne became very quiet as you started discussing plans for the summer.

“What’s wrong with you? Is your tea not cold enough? You can just use your evol right?” Caleb had teased, sipping his drink. He gives Zayne a playful jab and Zayne glares at him, adjusting his glasses that had slipped down his nose.

“Zayne?” You reach out and cover his hand with yours, hoping he’ll talk. There was a strange expression on his face. “Talk to us.”

“Yeah, Zayne. Talk to us.” Caleb widens his eyes and covers your hand with his. “We’re here for you boy,” he says with a tinge of mockery, making his voice sound high and feminine and you give him a withering look, pulling your hand out of the pile.

Zayne sips his milk tea, then quietly says, “I might not be here for most of the summer.” Caleb and you exchange a look before glancing back at Zayne.

“What do you mean?”

Zayne looks apologetic like he regrets not sharing this news earlier. “I’ll be touring colleges most of the summer. And my parents decided to make it a road trip.”

“Colleges?” Caleb looked intrigued. “You already started applications?”

“I did. And…several of them have already sent in offers for next fall.”

“What?!” You’re louder than you had intended to be. Zayne winces and you lower your voice. “You’ve already received acceptance letters and didn’t bother telling us?”

“I’m sorry.” Zayne holds up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I just didn’t know how to bring it up. Neither of you had mentioned college and I didn’t want to talk about it if you weren’t ready.”

“But Zaynie!” Caleb puts a hand on his chest looking wounded. “We’re a family bro! Why wouldn’t you tell us?”

Zayne shakes his head and drinks his tea. You’re about to as well when realization washes over you. “Wait. You said you had several acceptance letters.”

“I do.”

“Well, where are they? You’re staying in Linkon right?” You ask, and for some reason, your heartbeat is increasing. You wait for Zayne to say, of course, one of them is in Linkon and that’s his first choice.

“I did receive an offer from Linkon Medical University. However…there are better programs.”

“Really? So you might move for college?” Caleb regards Zayne passively.

“It’s not out of the question.”

An unnatural silence falls at the table as the three of you drink your teas. This was wonderful news for Zayne. You were happy for him, but inside, it felt like your heart had been tied into a painful knot. You knew Zayne was the smartest of your group and that he was destined to be a doctor. But you hadn’t even thought it would mean Zayne might not be in Linkon City anymore. From a professional standpoint, it made sense. He deserved to go to the best college. But it left you feeling hollow like his impending departure had fractured the carefully crafted life you’d built since you’d been taken in by your grandmother.

“When are you leaving?” Caleb breaks the silence and you’re relieved.

“Sometime in July.”

“Oh, great! We still have a month then.”

“Well…”

Caleb’s eyebrows knit together in dismay. “What?”

“I have some extra classes I need to take. I’m hoping to get a head start on the pre-med requisites.”

“So, you’re going to be in school all of June?” You try to hide your disappointment.

Zayne sighs. “Unfortunately. I’ll still be around. We can make time to hang out.”

You nod unenthusiastically, then hiss as you feel Caleb step on your foot under the table. His purple eyes give you a sharp glance and he gestures towards Zayne and you realize this wasn’t about you; Zayne had shared news that he knew would affect your dynamic but had done so thinking he would have the support of his friends. Caleb reminding you of your manners was humbling and you lowered your gaze.

“I’m really happy for you Zayne.” You murmur, then rearrange your features into what you hoped was a pleasant look of approval. “Congratulations.”

Zayne’s eyes seem to lighten at your appreciation. “Thank you. It took me by surprise actually.”

“Seriously Zaynie. That’s really impressive. So we’re gonna have a doctor amongst us. Hey, you better give us the good drugs if we ever come to you.” Caleb pats Zayne on the shoulder in an acclamatory fashion. Zayne’s demeanor visibly relaxes and you try to keep up a happy face for the rest of the evening.

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

The sun was starting to set by the time you got home, the lazy streaks of tangerine painting the sky vivid shades of pink and orange. There was a feeling of uneasiness in your stomach as you changed into pajamas and brushed your teeth. It had taken years for you to get some semblance of a family, and now someone was going away. AGAIN.

You try to reassure yourself that this wasn’t the same thing. Zayne might be going away for college but it wasn’t until next year. You still had your senior year left to build some precious final memories. Somehow, he seemed older all of a sudden, like he had become an adult within a few hours of telling you about his acceptance letters. You knew you’d be going to college too but hadn’t given much thought about any of it. After the Linkon City disaster, you had decided you didn’t want to wander too far away. You didn’t want to leave Grandma Josephine all by herself. Although Zayne seemed to have made up his mind about attending a college somewhere else, you reminded yourself that you still had Caleb.

Caleb hadn’t talked about college much, but you knew he wanted to attend. He didn’t know what he would major in, but he was naturally gifted in mechanics. You assumed he would be an engineer or something similar. He and Zayne had inherited the math skills, and you’d managed to get a decent grade by studying with them, or rather, getting bullied by them, with Zayne trying not to snap explaining how he got the answer versus Caleb taunting you saying you’d never graduate high school if you were this stupid. It was then you had decided perhaps a career in science wasn’t for you. But perhaps something in the arts, or communications. Perhaps languages. You wondered if maybe you were kidding yourself by not already sending out applications, or at the very least, making a list of where you’d like to attend.

Restless and unable to turn off your mind, you go next door to Caleb’s room and knock.

“Enter at your own risk!”

Rolling your eyes, you walk in and see Caleb sprawled out on his bed, holding his Switch over his head as he gamed. “Oh, pipsqueak. It’s you.”

You sit on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the corner of the quilt as he continues to play. As you waited, you looked up at the ceiling, where little airplane models, all built by Caleb’s own hands, had been carefully strung up using fish wire and hooks. Little glow-in-the-dark stars littered the spaces in between. You sigh and draw your knees up to your chest, wondering what would happen to the models if he left for college.

Noticing your morose expression, Caleb exits the game and sits upright. “What’s the matter with you?”

You shake your head and squeeze the bridge of your nose. “It’s Zayne. Did you know he had already applied to colleges?”

“No.” Caleb leans on his bed assessing you. “But I’m not surprised. And he has a point.”

“Which is?”

“Colleges are really competitive these days. Like even with excellent grades and extracurriculars, some people still have to take a gap year because they didn’t get in or they got put on a waiting list.”

You consider his words. “Do you think we should be applying too?”

“If we were smarter, we’d have already applied.” Caleb runs a hand over his face. “But it’s ok. We have the whole summer to plan. I think applications reopen sometime over winter break. We can apply then. You know, like normal students, and not nerds like Zayne.”

You laugh weakly, giving Caleb a reprimanding look. “That’s not a nice thing to say about our friend.”

“He’s not around is he? Anyway. Don’t fret pipsqueak. You’ll get in somewhere too.”

“You’ll stay close to Linkon right?” You lean closer to Caleb, your eyes boring into his. “We can’t leave grandma by herself.”

“Of course. Don’t worry.” Caleb puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you towards him. Your head rests on his shoulder as he traces circles into your arm. The action is comforting and familiar, and a sense of calm washes over you.

“I don’t like it when people leave.” You confess quietly and Caleb sighs.

“I know. You used to cry all the time when you first came here. You cried when grandma left to get groceries. You cried when I left for soccer practice. You cried when it was time for Zayne to go home. Honestly,” he smirks and pinches you, making you yip in surprise. “You’re such a crybaby that I’m surprised you want to attend college at all. You know you’re gonna have to live with strangers in the dorm right? Are you gonna cry into your little bear plushie?”

He grins and dodges a blow from you, a bark of laughter escaping him as you try to roughhouse. He indulges you for two missed attempts then leaps and pins you to the mattress. You squirm and shriek under him, trying to escape as he tickles you relentlessly.

“Caleb! Caleb stop!” There are tears in your eyes from the hilarity of the situation.

“Aw, are you gonna cry when you’re being tickled now too? Crybaby crybaby!” Caleb continues to mock you before you pull a dirty move; you angle your knee against his crotch and grin as you instantly feel him go still.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Caleb’s breathing has stilled, and he’s warily looking down at you as you prepare to play your trump card.

“I’ve done it before and won’t hesitate to do it again.” Knowing you had him in the palm of your hand, you look him deadpan in the eye.

“Get off.” Caleb complies immediately and you sigh, trying to calm your unsteady heart.

“You’re really heartless sometimes ya know?” Caleb’s voice is heard near your head and you turn to face him.

“I had to learn.”

A moment of peace falls between you both and Caleb softly cups your cheek. “Everything will be ok. I promise. You won’t be left behind. You’ll always have a family. We’ll never be too far away from you.”

“You’d better not.” You huff and suddenly feel exhausted. “Caleb?”

“You can stay here tonight.”

“I didn’t-”

“I already knew. I knew from the second Zayne said he’s not going to be around this summer.” Caleb shifts and pulls you under his quilt. You bury your nose into his chest and close your eyes.

“This doesn’t mean I’m not independent.” You quip and a rumble emanates from Caleb’s chest.

“Of course not pipsqueak. Miss independent.” He strokes your hair and your eyelids grow heavy. Caleb tucks your head under his chin. “But you can be as dependent on me as you want.” Those are the last words you hear before falling into a deep slumber.

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

You barely see Zayne for the next few weeks. His classes kept him busy and he always had homework. Caleb had suddenly become secretive after the night you’d spent in his room though he kept reassuring you that he was fine. You sulk as you watch TV by yourself, Caleb having locked himself in his room again. You wondered what had made him behave so differently. The last few times you’d tried to talk to him, he’d unceremoniously shoved you back out.

“Boys need their privacy sometimes,” Grandma had reassured you, noticing the way you were glowering at the TV. “Would you like to help me run errands?”

Josephine's list wasn’t terribly exciting, but you were still bitter from being snubbed by Caleb, so you went anyway. Several hours later, you return feeling accomplished. Just as you’re about to help Josephine put away the groceries, you hear footsteps on the stairs and Caleb finally makes an entrance.

“Oh look at that! Our groundhog has made a rare appearance!” Josephine teases as Caleb grins sheepishly.

“Ooh, apples!” He says zealously seeing you unbag the bright red fruits. As he’s about to grab one you smack his hand and he withdraws with a yelp.

“What was that for?” He rubs his hand looking offended.

“Only people who helped buy the groceries are entitled to eat them.” You put them away neatly into the fruit basket on the counter, refusing to look at Caleb. With Zayne being awol you had thought Caleb would be a little more sensitive towards you and you were still quite annoyed at his lack of consideration. Caleb huffs, then hoists himself onto the kitchen counter, his long legs dangling off the edge.

“What were you doing all this while anyway?” Josephine asks as she puts away more groceries. “Summer vacation usually means I can’t get a hold of you two even if I needed to. I thought you were planning to go to the beach? Play volleyball with some of your friends?”

“Yeah, and we will. Even if this little gremlin is mad at me.” Caleb hesitantly looks at you, hoping you’d simmered down but you shoot daggers at him and he shakes his head. “I need to talk to you both.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. You turn to look at him but Caleb’s eyes are fixated on Josephine, who’s looking curious.

“What is it? Nothing serious I hope?” The old woman sits down at the kitchen table.

“No, it’s not serious. But. It’s kind of sudden.” Caleb’s refusal to make eye contact with you was now starting to scare you. “Grandma, we told you about Zayne and him already getting ready for college right?”

“You did. I always knew Zayne would excel at whatever he put his mind to. Clever boy that one.”

“Well, his news was sort of a wake-up call for me. What I was doing all these days was looking at colleges, and I think I know what I want to do.”

The evening summer sunlight falls charmingly on Caleb’s face, illuminating his smooth skin, the dark hair falling elegantly into his eyes and for a moment, you feel the same sensation you had felt after Zayne had told you about college. You heart was already twisting into nervous knots, and you waited with bated breath as Caleb continued.

“I’ve decided I want to be a pilot.” His eyes are lit up with ambition as he says the words. Josephine cups her cheeks with her hands, a smile growing on her wrinkled face.

“That’s wonderful Caleb! I’m very happy for you.”

“Yeah. And. There’s something else I found out while doing my research.” Josephine immediately leans forward attentively. You listen quietly, but you can’t help but feel a slight sense of betrayal. Why would Caleb need to hide this from you? It wasn’t a secret that he wanted to go to college, and he loved talking about planes and jets. You felt like there was a piece he was hiding, saving it for fear of losing their attention.

“The Deepspace Aviation Administration has an apprenticeship-based degree which guarantees I’d graduate as a pilot. It’s a degree in Aviation Engineering. Grandma.” Caleb’s voice has softened, and he looks at her beseechingly.“They’re offering a month-long crash camp this summer. A lot of the students that go have better chances of making it into the program. There’s one slot left. Can I please go?”

There it was. That’s what he’d been hiding. A month. Without Caleb. Silently, you resume unpacking the groceries, turning your back to Caleb as you do so. Josephine’s face was lined with delight.

“Oh, Caleb! I’m so happy you’ve figured this out. Of course, you can go!” She rises from her seat and makes her way to Caleb who slips off the counter to hug her. She barely came up to his waist but she’s brimming with pride.

“Go fill out the application before someone else gets it! Go!” She slapped him on the back and Caleb, looking like he’d just been told he’d won the lottery, sprinted back upstairs. Silence fills the small kitchen. Pretending to act normal, you start gathering ingredients to prepare dinner.

“Annoying loser.” You mutter under your breath. “He hasn’t even offered to help cook dinner the last few days.” You feel a hand on your shoulder and turn to see Josephine standing right behind you.

“It’s ok to be upset.”

“I’m not upset.” You start washing the potatoes at the sink. Josephine sighs, then wraps her arms around your waist, giving you a gentle hug.

“Take your time. You know where to find me if you want to talk.” The woman hobbles out of the kitchen, and you put the washed potatoes on a cutting board. Your hand trembles as you pick up the knife, and the backs of your eyes feel hot and prickly. You didn’t understand why you felt like this. It was just a month. Caleb hadn’t applied for college yet. And even if he ended up at Deepspace Aviation it wasn’t too far away. But why did you feel like you were being left behind? Like everyone had their future planned but you? And none of their plans seemed to involve you at all?

You angle your knife to slice the potatoes, then let out a frustrated huff; memories of being a little girl, while Caleb held your hand in his as he taught you how to quickly dice your vegetables, patting your head with praise as he did so. You weren’t quite sure why potatoes were making you feel this way. Unbidden, a tear rolls down your cheek and you dash it away with your finger.

“Didn’t even offer to help with dinner.” More tears stream down your face and you let out a quiet sob.

“There’s no one to help me make dinner.”

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

“C’mon pipsqueak, at least say goodbye to me!”

Caleb was standing at the door, ready to leave for camp. You stood, arms crossed, refusing to speak to him. Josephine softly gives you a push.

“Go on now. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“No, I won’t. Besides he’ll be back in a month. It’s not like he’s staying there forever. Like they’d let him. They’ll probably call us begging to to take him back within a week.” Your snarky attitude hadn’t improved since he’d announced his acceptance.

Josephine looks at Caleb and shakes her head helplessly. She’d attempted to ameliorate your temper for the last 2 weeks and had gotten nowhere. You had avoided Caleb altogether, even when he’d come knocking on your door to talk. There was a vindictive satisfaction in knowing that your ignoring him was bothering him. A little taste of his own medicine. Didn’t feel so good to be shut off from your best friend now, did it? The thought made your lip curl even as your stomach churned from the knowledge that you would be by yourself for the next month.

Caleb checks his watch and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m getting late. Pipsqueak please.” Caleb opens his arms, giving you the most apologetic look he could muster. “Come say goodbye.”

You stood firm, even though every fiber in your being was burning to leap into his arms and hug him tight.

“The bus won’t wait forever.” Caleb quickly strides towards you and before you can step away he’s wrapped his arms around you, and you’re stuck in his embrace. Tears form in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Your arms remain stiff at your sides even as Caleb continues to hunch, silently bidding you farewell. When he finally lets go, he ruffles your hair. “I’ll see you next month. You can always reach me on my phone.” With a final wave, Caleb sprints out the door to board the bus.

You spend the day coming up with various ways to kill the time but nothing works. Video games felt lackluster and your mind refused to engage with the book you tried reading. For dinner, Josephine ordered burgers from your favorite restaurant to try and cheer you up. You sat quietly, unable to savor the food. Finally, before bedtime, you cave. Anything was better than this crushing, empty feeling in your stomach. You walk into Caleb’s room, and curl up under his quilt, inhaling the familiar scent. It was hard to believe he had been there just a few hours earlier, and you hugged his pillow, regretting your earlier actions. You pull out your phone and make a video call.

“Pipsqueak! Miss me already?” Caleb grins widely at you. The background is filled with activity, filled with high school students wandering around and acquainting themselves.

“Shut up.” You say but your voice quivers. “Caleb I’m sorry.”

Caleb’s eyes soften. “It’s ok. You don’t have to be.”

“But I was so mean to you.”

“Yeah, you were. But what can I say? How can I be mad at my family?” His words break the shield you’d built around yourself and you sniffle, letting the tears fall.

“Please don’t cry all over my pillow. It’ll get soggy.” Caleb tries to joke but your tears are eating away at him. He knew what this would do to you, which is why he hadn’t told you his plans before they were solid. “I’ll be back before you know it. Be good for grandma ok?”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. “I miss you, Caleb.”

“I miss you too. Please don’t be miserable the whole time I’m gone. Try to focus on things important to you too. Maybe make your list of colleges.”

“Yeah. I will.” You wipe away your tears. “Will you make dumplings for me when you come back?”

“Is that all I was good for?” Caleb asks in an offended tone but he’s grinning. “Yeah I will. I promise. Now go to sleep.”

He hangs up and you find the knot in your heart has loosened slightly. Caleb was right. You needed to focus on you. You turn over and are about to go to sleep when a text lights up your screen.

“Ice cream tomorrow?”

It was from Zayne. You smile. They’d never really leave you all alone. You text him a yes and fall asleep contentedly.

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

“How are you feeling with Caleb gone?”

You’re seated across from Zayne with a huge banana split sitting on the table between you. You twirl the spoon between your fingers, thinking.

“It’s strange. I miss him of course. The house feels empty.” You sample some of the ice cream. “It’s even emptier without you.”

Zayne looks guilty as he also takes a bite of the sundae. “I’m sorry. I know it must seem strange given how much time we all spent together. Believe me, if I had known Caleb wasn’t going to be here I would have put in more effort to check in on you.”

“It’s not your fault.” You lay down your spoon, contemplating. Zayne cocks his head.

“Something on your mind?”

You twitch your mouth to the side and try to explain. “Well, I recently realized I seem to have a problem with being by myself. And I’m trying to change that.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because. It’s illogical for me to think I’ll always have you or Caleb or grandma around. I know a lot of it stems from losing my parents. But I can’t be this way every time I have to be away from you guys.” You stab the spoon into the mound of whipped cream at the top of the ice cream. “We’re all going to college next year, and we might go months without seeing each other. I’m trying to be more independent and in control of my feelings. Otherwise, how am I supposed to survive?”

Zayne nods emphatically as you speak. “That’s a very rational way of thinking. However, I don’t think I can fault you for not wanting any of us to move away.”

“Really?” You carefully fish out a cherry from the top of one of the ice cream scoops.

“Of course. It’s natural to want to stay close to the people who have been a constant in your life.” Zayne glances away from you before continuing. “My parents are doctors. They’re busy most of the time. I work around their schedule. But I’m always more relaxed when one of them is at home. It’s natural to want to be around one’s family. Your feelings are completely natural.”

You let out a breath and laugh. “Well geez Dr. Zayne,” you tease. “Thank you for the psychological assessment.”

“Anytime.” He offers you a wry smile. “But I think it’s good you’re taking the initiative to adapt. The most successful people aren’t the smartest, but the most adaptable.”

“Oh? So am I smarter than you?”

“Hardly,” Zayne smirks as you pout, “I happen to be both.”

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

Now here you were, senior year finished, the summer that you had hoped would take its time in arriving sitting at your doorstep like a lost puppy begging to be let in. You had opened a window and a cool breeze was blowing past your face. You look out at the neighborhood of Bloomshore, remembering how intimidating it had looked when you first moved here, and now how you could never imagine leaving.

Zayne had returned from his road trip the past summer with a million photos and tales from each city he had visited with his parents. He’d brought back snacks and small trinkets from each place, and every few days, you’d find a postcard from him in the mailbox. You’d saved each one and put them away into a little keepsake box. When he had finally come over after his trip, Josephine had almost giggled herself silly because Zayne had tanned so much during his absence; a lighter ring had formed around his eyes like a raccoon where the sunglasses had perched. You’d laughed when you saw him, and Zayne had merely shook his head in exasperation.

Caleb had returned from camp with a whole new attitude towards his future. He seemed more confident, and couldn’t stop talking about engines and how being in a cockpit felt. Being the extrovert he was, he’d also come back with many new friends, some of whom lived just a few blocks from your house. You had initially disliked these new friends because it intensified the feeling that you had been replaced. Until one of them had mentioned that Caleb always looked at your picture before he fell asleep at night. Caleb had acted nonchalant but a dusting of pink had appeared on his face at the remark.

As you had predicted, Zayne had settled on and formally accepted an offer from one of the colleges. He had decided to attend a prestigious medical university at Snowcrest, a city that you knew was near the Arctic, frigidly cold, with short and mild summers. Although not impossibly far, it was still a long journey to reach Snowcrest, and you had felt some of the hope that was in your chest being crushed. Reminding yourself that you were trying to become a more assertive, independent woman, you had heartily congratulated Zayne while Caleb had teased that it was because Zayne would melt if he continued living in the temperate climate of Linkon City.

Caleb had immediately applied for the program at Deepspace Aviation Administration after coming back and was accepted into their engineering program, news he had received over winter break. You could still remember him dancing around his pajamas early in the morning after reading the email on his phone. He’d barged into your room, startling you from your deep slumber, and scooped you out of bed, spinning you around in his arms as he exuberantly announced his acceptance. Josephine had woken up from the ruckus, making her way up the stairs to investigate, and when she had reached your room, Caleb had tossed you back on your bed before picking up Josephine too, giving a quick circle that lifted her off her feet before carefully putting her back down. They found him baking shortly after; Caleb baked when he was happy.

Although you had applied to your fair share of colleges, you didn’t hear back until spring, and you had sighed in relief when you saw the acceptance letter from Linkon University. It was exactly as you’d hoped. Even though Caleb would need to move to Skyhaven, it was still closer than Snowcrest, meaning you could see him every month if you wanted to.

There was still time before everyone went their separate ways. You knew that yet it felt like time had fallen into a strange vacuum where nothing was happening yet everything was happening all at once. Sometimes your pulse started to skyrocket for no reason at all. Thinking about college made you anxious just as it made you excited. New people, new challenges, the classes, getting lost on campus, all these thoughts swirled in your head like a snow globe being violently shaken.

You knew you’d make friends but there was a pang at the thought of not seeing your best friends. Suddenly it felt like you had taken all these past years for granted. You found yourself reminiscing over small aspects of your friendships with both boys. Like the time you’d turned down Zayne to go to the movies because it was a documentary, or when Caleb had asked for help to paint a model airplane and you’d refused because it was the third model that week. These minor indiscretions now felt like heavy bags of guilt weighing on your conscious.

Perhaps this is why you were all being separated now, you think self-deprecatingly. You had always thought you had forever with them and hadn’t spent enough time with them when they’d asked you. Now you didn’t know when you’d see them next.

A knock on your door disrupts your thoughts and you turn to see Caleb standing there.

“Ready to go?”

“Where?” you ask blankly.

Caleb gives you a questioning look. “To Zayne’s house. He got that new game and asked us to come over remember?”

It takes you a moment to recall, then you put a hand to your forehead. “Yeah, that’s right. I forgot.” You look down at your clothes and decide it’s not worth changing. It was hot outside, and it was Zayne’s house; he’d seen you in rattier things than the denim shorts and T-shirt you were currently wearing. You follow Caleb out of the house, the summer breeze whipping your faces as you walk. Caleb seemed content to walk in silence and after a few yards, you catch hold of his wrist, slowing down his pace.

“Everything ok?” He peers down at you and you nod yes.

“Caleb. I’m sorry for all those times I refused to paint model airplanes with you.”

“What?” There’s levity in Caleb’s voice. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about those model airplanes you built. You asked me to paint them with you and I always found excuses to avoid it. And now I don’t know when we’ll do something like that again.”

Understanding fills Caleb’s expression and he frees his wrist so he can drape his arm over your shoulders. “You’re thinking too much again.”

“Am not.”

“Sure you are. We’re officially done with high school. You’ve been tweaking out about this since last year. How many times do I have to tell you, it’s going to be ok. And it’s not like we’re depending on carrier pigeons to communicate. Text me, call me, a million times a day if you want to. I’ll always reply.”

The feeling of his warm arm on the back of your neck makes you want to pull him into a hug right now. Caleb and Zayne were so different than most boys their age. Neither of them made you regret expressing vulnerability in front of them. You wondered if they would meet someone when they went to college. Zayne would probably get swept off his feet by another medical student. And Caleb…Caleb exuded such candid energy that girls were always drawn to him. The thought made you uncomfortable for some reason and you push it out of your head.

“If this apologizing thing is gonna continue, then please don’t apologize to Zayne for that day I used my evol to hurl snowballs at him through his window.”

You burst out laughing at the memory, Caleb’s gravity control effortlessly pitching snowballs into Zayne’s room while you kept watch for the grown-ups. “We ended up drenching his sheets that day,” you say in a sober voice. “I do feel kind of bad now.”

“What’s a little prank between friends hmm pipsqueak? Like that time Zayne and I let that possum into your room.”

“That was you two?!” You jerk back and Caleb doubles over, cackling. “I screamed so loudly that the poor possum keeled over playing dead! But I thought it had really died and I had killed it! Grandma had to put it outside and then showed me how it got up before I stopped crying!”

Caleb had tears in his eyes as you indignantly frowned at him. “I hate you,” you muttered and continued down the road towards Zayne’s house. Caleb jogs to catch up with you.

“You don’t hate us pipsqueak. You’re going to remember all of this and be reminded that, despite everything, you had a good childhood.” Caleb puts his hand on your head. “I know I will.”

You roll your eyes and keep quiet but know that he was right.

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

Several rounds of Mario Kart later, the three of you are sprawled out on the floor in Zayne’s room. Both his parents were on-call that night and were working at the hospital.

“There’s pizza for dinner,” Zayne says lazily as he gazes at the last few rays of the disappearing sun. Although it was well past dinner time, none of you felt hungry. There was something sweet about the calmness of this moment, and no one seemed willing to break it to go down to the kitchen. You’re in between both boys staring at the ceiling fan which was rotating in a hypnotizingly soothing way. The soft whir of the blades was making you drowsy.

“When I was at camp, there were helicopters with blades like 50 times that size. The military choppers are huge.” Caleb says in a relaxed voice. “Can’t believe I’m going to be piloting those things in my third year.”

“Third year? Not after you graduate?” Zayne asks as the sunlight reflects in his amber-green eyes.

“Nah. They start showing us flight basics in the third year. That way we can take the exam in the final year and we’re good to fly right after graduation.”

Zayne hums contemplatingly at the explanation.

“I’m guessing you won’t perform your first operation for another 10 years or so right?” you ask, enjoying the camaraderie.

“They start you off with simple procedures that are low risk. But I want to be a cardiologist. Ten years might not be a bad estimate.” Zayne turns onto his side so that he can look at you. “Do you know what you want to do after graduating college?”

“I just graduated high school. I’ll figure it out along the way. Not everyone has answers about their long-term careers like you guys do.” Zayne gives you a small smile and you chuckle.

“Do you guys remember the summer right after I first moved in?”

“Yeah. We were 6 years old. Why?” Zayne asks.

“Remember I wanted it to snow because it was too hot at the time?”

“Oh yeah. Zayne and I came up with a little trick there didn’t we?” Caleb also rolls to his side and props himself on his elbow. Fondness is etched all over his face at the memory.

“I think I’ll tell that story everywhere I go.” You gaze nostalgically at the ceiling. “My two best friends literally made it snow for me.”

“It was the first time we tested our evols together,” Zayne says reminiscingly. He looks over at Caleb. “Want to do it again?”

“What do you think pipsqueak? Will it make you happy?”

You close your eyes. “It would. If you don’t mind snowflakes falling all over your carpet Zayne.”

“The heat should melt them before they touch the floor.”

The two boys look at each other, and then Zayne extends his palms toward the ceiling. Soft flakes of snow start to form on his palms, and then Caleb points a finger toward Zayne. The snowflakes lose their gravity, delicately floating into the air, and dancing near the ceiling. Both of them hold their evol until the air is filled with them.

“Ready?” Caleb asks, and you can feel joy radiating from him.

“Ready!”

Caleb disengages his evol and the snowflakes make their way back to earth, melting away as they do so. Even at this age, it was still magical, and you feel a sudden constriction in your throat.

“I’ll miss you guys,” you murmur, then hold their hands as the remaining snow starts to fall around the three of you.

“We’ll do this for you whenever we meet,” Zayne says solemnly, observing your expression. You sniff and smile, your eyes overbright. You turn and find yourself face-to-face with Zayne. You hadn’t realized he was so close, and you can see the surprise in his eyes. The world seems to stop spinning, frozen in the moment. In the blink of an eye, without thinking, you lean forward and clumsily press your lips to Zayne’s.

You weren’t sure what you were thinking, but all you knew was that words weren’t enough to describe how much you’d miss him. When you lean back, Zayne’s eyes are wide but he doesn’t look displeased. You reach out to pat his cheek.

“I’ll miss you.”

You hear shuffling on the carpet and suddenly feel warmth against your back as Caleb presses his body against yours. This wasn’t an alien reaction to you; You and Caleb cuddled all the time, even slept in the same bed from time to time since you were kids. But somehow, his breath on the back of your neck was telling you this was different. You feel Caleb’s lips press a soft kiss to your nape and you jerk at the sensation, trying to look at him over your shoulder.

“I’ll miss you too my little one,” Caleb whispers, tipping your face to his by your chin. Enamored by the tenderness of his gaze, you allow him to give you a chaste kiss, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling.

Your heart races as you become aware that you are sandwiched between Caleb and Zayne, and neither one is moving away. Instead, strong arms, one from each of them, come over your waist, effectively holding you into place.

“Are you ok with this?” Zayne murmurs into your ear. “Us showing you that we’ll miss you?” Your eyes squeeze closed as you realize you have just experienced your first kiss. Correction. Kisses. Your face turns red under their watchful gazes but right now, you were consumed with the idea of being in this moment for as long as you could.

“Yes.” You whisper the word out loud.

Hearing your breathless consent, both of them move impossibly closer, and you gasp as you feel Caleb softly kiss your ear. “Tell us if you want to stop.” His warm breath tickles the sensitive skin and you squirm.

Zayne strokes your arm and it sends tingles down your spine. You feel yourself going light-headed at their touch. They feel safe, and your mind enters into a state of connection. You can hear their heartbeats, the low, masculine sighs welling up from their throats as their hands gently explore the contours of your body over your clothes.

Your legs were the most exposed part of you, the shorts having ridden up from all the movement playing video games, and rolling around on the carpet. It’s Zayne who boldly touches your knee first, sending a jitter of electricity up into your core. The blood rushes to your ears, and you almost jump as Caleb chuckles before sinking his teeth into one of the lobes. The little nip was unfamiliar, but it felt good and your hand grips the front of Zayne’s T-shirt as the minor sting passes.

“Are you feeling hot?” Caleb moves some hair away from your shoulder to kiss and lick the crook of your neck. “Your ears are so red right now.” His words cause you to flush. Your skin felt uncomfortably warm, and your heart was pounding inside your chest as their hands stroked every inch of you. A strange throb was beginning to make itself present between your legs now; it was in time to your heartbeat, as though your sex had developed a rapid pulse of its own. You move to try and get comfortable and your panties chafe against your folds.

“What is it? Zayne sneaks his hand over your waist and onto your back, his head leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I feel…” your voice trails as you struggle to find words to describe it. “Light. But also��strained? Like I’m hot everywhere. And tingly.” You knew you must have sounded ridiculous but Zayne gives a comforting pat on the small of your back.

“Arousal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair away from your face. “All the signs point to that. According to my pre-med textbooks anyway.”

“Oh…”

Arousal.

You’d learned that word in biology but you had never thought about what the implications of it would be in the real world. Zayne peppers your face with small kisses and your eyes flutter shut as they reach your cheeks, your chin, the tip of your nose, and then finally your lips. He hovers uncertainly for a second before he does so, and it feels like a little light has been ignited inside of you. His lips were soft, warm, and unparted. Gaining courage, and your curiosity getting the better of you, you open your mouth and hear a groan issue from Zayne. Experimentally you give him your tongue, exploring the crevices of his mouth, and feel a delicious, liquidy pull, in your lower abdomen. Excitement pulses through your body as Zayne’s tongue timidly touches yours, participating in the erotic dance as you kiss.

Caleb has now left kisses all over your neck and shoulders, and you can feel his hands starting to grow mischievous and he walks them along the front of your collarbone, starting to stroke down on the swells of flesh under your Tshirt but not daring to cup them completely.

You and Zayne part and his eyes are smoldering, green embers growing in the irises. “I don’t want to continue this on the floor.”

Your brain is in a haze and it takes a second for you to register what he had said, and you hasten to move, but are prevented from doing so as Caleb hooks his arms under your upper body, and Zayne gently cradles your legs from the knees below. They lovingly move you to the bed and resume their positions on either side of you.

The softness of the bed is alluring, and all of you sink into it, you feel their hands flirting with the edge of your T-shirt. Feeling shy, you glance up at them and raise your arms. Taking your cue, Zayne pulls off the garment, then he and Caleb follow suit, discarding their shirts with yours. You drink in the sight of their bare upper bodies. You had seen them half-naked before when you’d gone to the pool and the beach with them, seen their bodies wet with water and sweat. But the longing and hunger in their eyes as they looked at you made it feel like you were seeing them differently; now as men rather than childhood companions.

Goosebumps form over your skin as your upper half is exposed to them, and you tentatively reach out to put a hand on each of their chests. They tremble at your touch, and the knowledge emboldens you, knowing they were as affected by you as you were by them. The direct skin-on-skin contact was soothing, their warm, firm bodies pressing up against your softness. Caleb traces a finger along the inner crease of your cleavage, then looks at you for permission. You nod, curving towards him so he can unhook your bra. A mixture of nervous excitement fills you as the small piece of fabric slips off your body and you quickly cling to Caleb, hiding your breasts from view.

He strokes your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s ok my little one. I’m sure you’re beautiful.”

You feel a persistent ache in your breasts and press up against Caleb’s hard chest, surprised at how the ache lessens as you do so. Caleb lets out a low, guttural groan, and at the same time, Zayne closes in to kiss down your back, licking random little lines on your skin that have you pressing deeper into Caleb’s body. You gasp and wriggle in surprise as Zayne bites down on the curve of your waist, then soothes the bite with his thumb.

“Won’t you let us see you?” Zayne’s deep voice requests you, and feeling like you’d burst into flames from the embarrassment, you finally let go of Caleb and lie back on the bed, covering your eyes with your hands as you do so. You hear their collective breaths being drawn as they take in the view of your soft breasts, the nipples hard from their affections.

“How cute,” you hear Caleb growl. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel your breasts being cupped and squeezed, and then suddenly, light floods your vision as Caleb tugs your hand away from your eyes.

“Aw look at you. You’re blushing.” He teases but it’s said with gentleness. Zayne watches your expressions intently, and you let out a moan of pleasure as they continue to play with your breasts.

“Are you enjoying it?” Zayne’s voice cuts through the buzz in your head and you nod, a heady twirl of sensation shooting up your spine. Your toes curl into the mattress as they mindfully pull your nipples, feeling your arousal grow as they do so. You nod breathlessly at Zayne’s question and feel an urgent pulsing between your legs. You’re desperate to touch and relieve yourself. You were no stranger to pleasuring yourself after all but could you do it with these two watching?

The thought sends an arrow of lust straight into the deepest depths of your core. You’re about to speak up but all that comes out is a noise of desire as Caleb licks your nipple, savoring the taste of your skin before suckling the little bud into his mouth. Zayne repeats the action on the other side and you feel like you can’t catch your breath, each soft suck sending you into a dizzying spiral. You feel like nothing is solid under you like you’re floating on a cloud, where the only thing that existed was the sweet stimulation of their mouths on your body. You try to discreetly rub your aching clit against your panties, the barely there friction making you feel like you might go insane.

You shiver as Caleb releases your moistened peak, caressing your hair and kissing his way down to your navel. Both their large hands stroke the length of your legs, intensifying the need building inside your core. Your nails sink into the covers as you quiver under their touch.

“Feeling ok?” Zayne cups your cheek as he notices your tension. You crack your eyes open and nod.

“I feel hot. I need…I need to…” You blush as you try to form the words.

“What?” Caleb prompts you and moves back up to take your hands, stroking your palms. “Tell us.”

I need…more…” you manage to say, then gasp as Zayne ghosts your belly button before his hand dips below the waistband of your shorts. Your breath hitches as he strokes the soaked gusset of your panties, just a few inches shy of your clit.

“Show us.” Caleb catches your lips in an unexpected kiss.

Zayne’s hand withdraws and he slides down your shorts over your legs, little ripples of electricity running through your body as he does so.

“You’re so wet.” Caleb’s voice is laced with arousal as he moves toward your feet and sees the patch of moisture on your panties.

“It’s natural,” Zayne reassures you and squeezes your hand and you nod, your embarrassment giving away to your instincts. Your hips raise slightly as Caleb removes your panties, displaying your swollen sex to their eyes. Zayne moves next to Caleb as you part your legs, and take a finger into your leaking core, drawing up the slick towards your clit. Whimpers leave you as you stroke light circles onto the swollen bud.

“That’s so hot,” Caleb says as he watches the erotic view in front of him. Zayne quietly observes you for a few minutes, then you feel a jolt burst through you as he reaches his fingers into your drenched folds and copies your moves.

“Like this?”

“Y-Yes…” you whisper breathlessly, your legs parting shamelessly to allow him better access. The pads of his fingertips were gentle, and the sensation of someone else touching you was so starkly different from when you did it. The air becomes balmy, and you writhe passionately under his gentle ministrations.

“Such a good girl for us.” Caleb strokes your thighs and you moan as your hips roll, trying to reap all the pleasure you can get. Your feet plant into the mattress and suddenly, you feel a different set of fingers, a little thicker than Zayne’s, softly probing at the wetness of your core.

“Breathe for me baby girl.” You hear Caleb’s encouragement and breathe deeply as he inserts his fingers into you. It was done carefully but you were already lucidly wet and his fingers sink in with ease. Your moans start to keen as Caleb slowly strokes your inner walls, his movements uncertain but soft as he watches your face for discomfort. Zayne continues circling your clit and the sensations from both of them were driving you mad.

You feel yourself clench, your body tensing under their tender ministrations, pleasurable mewls filling the air as they work your body to the edge. The separate sensations were unlike anything you could have ever imagined in your wildest fantasies. Even when you’d touched yourself before, you’d imagined a faceless stranger. But now with these two, it was even more heady than you could imagine.

“Don’t stop.” You pant as you feel your body tip into the abyss. They don’t relent and keep up the pace and your eyes squeeze closed in ecstasy as an orgasm builds and explodes inside you. Your body quakes from the pulses of delight flowing through you and your sobs fill the quiet bedroom as you fall apart, a puddle of tangled, sensual desire.

“How was it?” Your chest rises and falls as you try to catch your breath and you see Caleb curiously lick at his fingers, tasting the fluid collected from your body. The sight was so lewd and yet arousing, and you can’t help but stare as he cleans up his digits.

“Good it was…good.”

Caleb turns away and you see him fiddling with the fabric of his sweats and something clicks in your head. “Are you both…?”

You glance down and Zayne doesn’t try to hide it, but he averts his eyes shyly as you see the hard bulge in his shorts. Slowly, you roll over and crawl over to them. “Can I see?” you ask curiously, and a nervous glance flashes over their faces before they oblige. Your eyes widen as their cocks spring free of their confines, thick, veiny, and pulsing with heat.

Your hands move automatically, reaching out to stroke them, and both of them hiss at your touch, your small, soft hands already pushing their inexperienced bodies toward the edge of bliss. You’re surprised at the firmness, and the velvety the skin was stretched over their arousals. Growing bold, you give a slight squeeze, and both of them groan, the noises heavy with want.

It emboldens you, hearing the desperation in their voices, seeing the way drops of pearlescent fluid start to form in their slits. Your mind craved to know what they tasted like, how their desire might feel on your tongue. Leaning forward, you cautiously taste Caleb first. His abdomen tightens, a low moan escaping from him and he grips the covers.

“Ca-careful…” he says in a trembling voice. You hear the thin restraint in his words and repeat the action on Zayne, tongue darting out to sample him. Zayne lets out a huff followed by what sounded like a snarl.

Drunk with the power you held over them, you continued to test their boundaries, sampling, sucking, giving soft kitten licks, never taking more than a few inches of them into your mouth at a time. Their patience was wearing thin and their eyes had a primal haze to them when you dared to look up.

Caleb jerks you away from him, momentarily stunning you before you’re wrapped up in his strong arms, and he pins you underneath him, his erection grazing your thigh as he does so. His body was like a furnace and you nuzzle your face into his chest, his heart beating like a caged bird in his chest. He moans as he pushes his hips against you, trying to soothe the ache in his cock.

Zayne shifts towards your head, his facade of control slipping as lust pours into his system. You reach out a hand to stroke him again and he bites his lip, eyes fluttering closed.

“I think…I’m ready,” you say quietly and 2 pairs of eyes fixate on you.

“Are you sure?” Caleb’s tone is ragged as he tries to control himself from being selfish.

You nod and stroke his hair with your free hand. “I’m positive. With you two…I’m not scared.”

Caleb laughs nervously. “Got us all wired up here baby girl. You think this is something I have practice with?”

You sense his insecurity and murmur, “It doesn’t really matter.”

Caleb takes a deep breath, then moves, your legs spreading apart as he adjusts, grabbing his cock and probing around near your entrance. You tense slightly and feel Zayne move so that he can put your head on his lap. He strokes your face, then leans down to kiss you, easing your worries, and you feel your core flutter in anticipation.

Caleb finally notches in, and he pushes with care, pausing as he hears a muffled gasp escape from you, spilling into Zayne’s mouth. The sensation was strange, it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as you thought it would, but it wasn’t the most comfortable either. It felt like unused muscles were being stretched inside you, then suddenly…you were split apart and he was there, filling an unfamiliar cavern that had been untouched all these years.

“Fuck…” he hisses as he feels the tightness of your walls, the wet clench of them around his cock. Caleb’s movements are shaky as he soaks in the glorious feeling of your body, not daring to push too far in for fear of losing control. Your eyes are clouding over as you gaze up at Zayne’s face, your body rocking with each of Caleb’s thrusts. You moan loudly as he dares to bottom out once, then he quickly pulls out, his breathing shallow.

“I can’t…Not in you…” he mumbles, then starts to pump himself in his hand. You cup Zayne’s cheek, and understanding, he moves carefully between your legs. He kisses your pubic bone, and like Caleb, strokes himself before using his hand to guide himself inside you. You were prepared for the sensation this time but marveled at how different Zayne felt inside you compared to Caleb. Your pussy stretches and accommodates him easily, the muscles relaxed and loose as he enters.

Zayne brushes away hair from your face, his movements tender like Caleb’s and just as inexperienced. To you, however, they felt amazing, and you’re in awe of the human body, the way it could feel and bask in these sweet feelings and touches. Zayne’s breath grows ragged with each passing thrust and all too soon, he’s pulling out as well.

The sight of both them pumping their lengths, of knowing you put them in this frenzied sexual haze, stroked your ego. Caleb lets go first, his nose scrunching up in pleasure as he releases his load, the warm sticky fluid splattering on your belly as it happens. Zayne follows not too long after, jets of seed spilling out of his swollen tip to join Caleb’s.

The rest of the night was a blur. You remember being carried to the shower, by which one, you couldn't remember. They had washed you, murmuring how you’d be their girl forever. After helping you dry off, Zayne had lent you a change of clothes, and you fallen asleep wearing his hoodie and shorts, both of which were baggy and loose. It was past midnight when Caleb had roused you, reminding you that you needed to get back to Grandma’s house. He packed your clothes into a plastic bag, and after you had hugged and kissed Zayne goodnight one more time, he’d held your hand on the way home. Once back at your own home, Caleb had led you to his bed, and held you snugly against him as you fell asleep once more.

It was the perfect ending to the summer. You felt deeply content and sighed against Caleb’s chest. It was rare to find one person that loved you so wholly but two? That was nothing short of a miracle.

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

~End Flashback~

The group of women were gazing at you in wonder, their cheeks flushed as the wine they’d been sipping intoxicated their system. Tara’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates.

“And?” she prompts in an awed hush as you conclude your story.

“And what?”

“Don’t play dumb!” Tara pouts. “Where are they? Are you guys…in a poly situation?” Shr grins slyly.

Her question makes your heart twist painfully. Trying to keep your composure, you finish the rest of your wine. Taking a deep breath, you say the final, painful, part of the story.

“My grandma’s house was blown up during the attack on Bloomshore district last year.”

Tara’s eyes change from teasing to horrified. “I’m so sorry!” She covers her mouth as the rest of the group becomes somber at your admission.

“My grandma and Caleb didn’t survive the blast.” Your voice trembles.

“And…Zayne?” Tara’s voice is hushed.

“Zayne and I lost touch. He used to send letters regularly then, his last one to me, stated that he’d been asked to be part of a research program for developing a cure for Protocore Syndrome. It was some sort of high-clearance project, privately funded. He stopped writing after that.”

“No!” Tara looks absolutely beside herself. “So Zayne is alive…but you don’t know where he is?”

You shake your head no and excuse yourself, escaping to the balcony. None of the women follow you and you’re grateful for the moment of privacy. The night wind whips your hair and you breathe it in, the air feeling fortifying despite the chill.

The seasons might change, but to you, they’re all the same. In your mind, you’re stuck in a perpetual state of summer, the memories of your two lovers echoing through your mind.

@tokyorevengersrin @brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura @prisjean @laddelulu30 @lethargiccryptid @ravenclaw-jojo @redactedbimbo @crypt-0rchid @fattybattysblog

1K notes · View notes

why-animals-do-the-thing · 6 months ago

Text

Folk were really into the post I made about Tandie, the zoo lion with a (then) undergrown mane due a period of time on testosterone blockers. He's having quite the glow up this summer.

But!

Did you know that manes are hormone dependent in both sexes of lion?

Let's talk about maned lionesses!

To recap the previous post quickly: the existence of a mane, and it's color, appear to be pretty heavily androgen-dependent. Neutered males or males put on testosterone blockers, like Tandie was, will drop their manes - but like Tandie, if taken off the meds, it will generally grow it back. Darker manes are indicative of higher testosterone levels, and long/lush manes are generally a good signal of a male's fitness and mate quality. Females seem to show a preference for males with longer, darker manes and other males will preferentially avoid scuffles with them. (Yes, as many comments have pointed out, that means Scar was actually a hunk. Do with that as you will.)

The fascinating thing about androgens being linked to manes in lions is that it goes both ways - females with higher levels will also grow manes!

Mane growth in females lions is most commonly seen with elderly animals who have stopped cycling and are basically in lion menopause. And they have to get pretty old for it to happen - captive lions generally only live into their late teens and early second decade, and most of the maned ladies I know about started growing manes around like, seventeen.

Not all old female lions grow manes, but some of the career cat people I've talked to said it happened to about a quarter of the females they've worked with over the years. Which... is an interesting contrast to the news articles about Zuri, who we'll meet in a bit, that breathlessly reported in 2022 that her mane growth "left scientists baffled."

Old lady lion manes are just... precious. They grow in first at the chest and then around the sides or on the back of the head, but they don’t normally get the length, density, and connectivity seen in the mane of an adult male. It leaves the lionesses manes kind of awkward, in the way I associate with very young males, and they're absolutely adorable. Prepare yourself for the photo spam.

I have to start with Daisy, because she's the only maned lioness I've had the privilege to meet in person.

I don't know exactly when she started growing her mane, but she was over 20 years old when she passed in 2019 with these luscious locks.

Here's another female at the same facility, named Adeena. On the left is a photo of her from 2021, on the right is from this spring (I think she's mid-sneeze in the photo). She turns 20 in October.

If you've heard about maned lionesses before, it’s probably because of Zuri, at Topeka. She’s the most recent one to get media coverage and she went a little viral.

(Just a side note here, but I have some strong feelings about knowledge loss in the exotic animal management world due to political/philosophical schisms. This is one of those topics where it's clear: Topeka told a reporter that the zoo had “never" heard of this happening before, but it's common enough to be well known as a thing in other sectors of the exotic cat world. There's so much expertise and knowledge being lost due to infighting between accrediting groups, and it drives me up a wall).

Anyway. Zuri had one of the best manes I've seen on an elderly lioness. It grew long and lush and she totally could have done shampoo commercials. I mean, look at this.

Zuri lived with her sister, who didn't grow a mane in her old age. Here's the two of them together, Zuri on the left, Asante on the right.

We don't completely know what's going on with these golden girls to cause them to grow manes. It's theorized to be related to the end of estrus and higher levels of androgenic hormones, although it's not clear if that's just due to lower levels of other hormones during "meownopause" or if there's something else also going on.

There was some speculation with Zuri's mane growth that it was caused by the death of the male she lived with, in some biological need to "take over the role." The zoo dismissed that idea pretty quickly, and it makes sense, although there is one other instance where I've heard of that happening before.

The cat people I've talked to say that older lionesses who grow manes don't tend to act differently - they're not taking over new social roles in their prides or anything. Sometimes they can be less active, or be a little more nervous around males, and want to be left alone more, but it was emphasized to me that those behaviors could also just be associated with the fact that manes tends to develop in elderly lionesses.

The mane growth can happen pretty quickly, as we saw in the photos I've posted of Tandie over the last year. Here's Bridget, from the Oklahoma Zoo. The left photo was taken in March of 2017 and the right in November - look how much hair she gained over six months!

The zoo did some research into what might have cause Bridget's mane growth, and found that she had elevated levels of androstenedione, which is a hormone that can be converted by the body into either testosterone or estrogen, depending. In AFAB people, it's known to have a masculinizing effect. The zoo theorized that this was the cause of her mane growth, and that the elevated levels might have been caused by a benign tumor. Fascinatingly, though, blood draws revealed that her testosterone levels were the same as her mane-less sister, Tia.

Tia is on the left in the photo below, Bridget and the beginnings of her mane are on the right. Bridget was 17 when her mane started growing in.

I don't think there's any formal hypothesis that there might be a genetic component to lionesses growing manes in old age, but it's interesting to note that one of Tia's daughters, Zari, also grew a mane. (And she grew it young! It started around age 13, interestingly, also right after their male died). She's on the left in the photo below.

And to circle back around to where we began: Tandie is related to a number of maned ladies! His father, Xerxes, was Bridget's son; Zari was Xerxes' half-sister.

Here's a few more beautiful maned ladies to leave you with. In order, Ngala, Pepper, Skye, and Dandy Lion.

Next up, and last in this lion mane series, is the story of five younger lionesses in Botswana who not only have manes but also express a range of masculine behaviors.

A huge thanks to all the folk who shared photos of and stories about their golden girls for this post: M. Townsen, S.W. Simpson, E. Day, S. Cook, M. Stinner, M. Paul, K. Vanaman, D. O'Halloran, R. Simpson, D. Souffrant.

#lions #lion #big cats #the mane event #maned lionesses #science #zoo animals #golden girls

2K notes · View notes

criminalamnesia · 11 months ago

Note

HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!

thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.

he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.

he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.

but he couldn’t take everything lying down.

did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?

he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.

he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.

he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.

but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.

but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.

simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.

and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?

you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.

the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.

and all the signs pointed to you.

and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.

price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.

johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.

then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.

simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.

maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.

but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.

all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.

and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.

so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.

and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.

even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.

he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.

but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.

the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.

it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.

the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.

“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.

“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”

simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.

“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”

“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”

price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.

“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”

“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.

price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”

the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.

he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.

“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.

price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”

simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.

“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”

they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.

pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.

although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.

but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.

an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.

you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.

damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.

you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.

he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.

‘you should have killed me.’

maybe he should have.

thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—

im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!

as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)

4K notes · View notes

kamiraaah · 5 months ago

Text

TWST PARENTS! Trappola, Hunt and Ashengrotto!!

⚠️⚠️First of all, I must warn you that these designs may change in the future, either because the game presented us with the official designs, or just because I really wanted to change... Or I could reuse these designs for these characters!⚠️⚠️ Given that warning...

Guys, gals, and non-binary pals. I present to you, the Trappola, Hunt, and Ashengrotto families!

The Trappolas it's a very common family, compared to others. Of course, Ace Trappola and his brother get into a lot of trouble and face their mother's anger very often... But hey! It's good that they have their father to calm things down when things escalate, right? It may not seem like it, but Mrs. Trappola in her youth was just like Ace, always getting into trouble and facing authorities without thinking twice… Which led to many fights with Ace's grandmother. Mr. Trappola, on the other hand, rarely started fights, at least physical ones. Since he has a sharp tongue, always with some offense or something to irritate the other person. Both Ace and his brother inherited these traits from their parents… Although the older one is a little more responsible and is sometimes the one who talks sense into Ace's head. Ace and his brother have always been close, even though they fight or torment each other, they both have great respect for each other, even now that they don't see each other as much…

The Hunt family is a mystery to many.

The members of this family are… Lively, for lack of a better description, and Rook is the best known among them, and yet he is a guy who hides many secrets.

Although they are unknown, they are apparently a family with a certain wealth, many stories surround their members about how the Hunts managed to get so much money and influence in Twisted Wonderland...

But of course none that came close to the truth.I still wonder what kind of people they are.

Mama, Papa and Grandma Ashengrotto! A very loving family that loves young Azul more than he can imagine. Miss Ashengrotto goes to great lengths to demonstrate her love for her son, even though she is a busy woman, always does everything possible and impossible to be present in her son's life. She is a great friend of the Leech family, and always gets in touch to talk or update each other on how the children are doing. Mr. Ashengrotto, Azul's stepfather, is a kind man who has great respect for his wife. At the beginning of his relationship with his current wife, he was afraid that it would end up affecting the relationship between mother and son… The last thing he wanted was to make the young man hate him, but time passed and Azul and him ended up getting very close ( and catching his stepfather off guard when he called him "papa"… who ended up crying with happiness). Unfortunately, he carries the guilt of not having noticed the bullying that Azul went through in his childhood, and whenever he can (or when Azul allows him) he helps him with whatever he can… Always trying to talk and advise the youngest. Grandmother Ashengrotto, like her daughter, is a kind but strict woman. Always wanting the best for her grandson and being one of his biggest supporters in any projects her grandson starts. Always demands that he visits her more often... And preferably with friends! She wants to make sure her precious grandson is being well taken care of!!

AND MORE FAMILIES DONE!! And I'm still going to draw pictures of other members of the TWST families, so please bear with me a little… I'm going as fast as I can!🫠

I'm not 100% satisfied with their designs... They have a big chance of being changed, but I hope you like them! 😚

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanart #twst fanart #twst parents #ace trappola #ace twst #ace twisted wonderland #ashengrotto family i looooove u!!!!#azul twst #azul ashengrotto #azul twisted wonderland #ROOK HUNT WHY YOU MAKE MY LIFE SO DIFFICULT #i swear his family give me SO MUCH trouble #rook hunt #twst rook #rook hunt twisted wonderland #ROOK HUNT I WILL GET YOU #!kah art

2K notes · View notes

tender-rosiey · 1 year ago

Text

“KEEP THE PRIEST! WEDDING NO.2 STARTS!”

— gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto & toji when you catch the bouquet at a wedding (f!reader)

a/n: if you don't have a cousin then now you do and thanks for being patient with me everyone! <3

GOJO SATORU:

a family member of yours was finally getting married—something you never thought would happen since she was always complaining about all her boyfriends, but hey at least someone finally did it.

anyway, naturally, you took your dear boyfriend as your date.

the wedding was going smoothly, drinks were exchanged, food was distributed, and cakes were eaten—much to your lover’s delight.

another thing that kept happening is people trying to introduce their daughters to satoru.

his instant response was to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you close to him, kissing your cheek and chirping a “sorry, but I am happily taken!”

now it was time for the part that a lot of people wait for: the bouquet throw.

your cousin was already crazy, so she has been waiting for it so she can throw the bouquet with all her might. on the other hand ,you and the other ladies were lined up and patiently waited.

one swing, two swings, one faint throw, and finally the bouquet was thrown into the air, heading towards its next owner.

a chorus of ‘its mine! mine!’ filled the room, but relentless, you maneuvered your way into finally catching the bouquet in your hands.

you’ve won the battle.

but wait. it seems like there is a contestant that won’t back down.

“let go of that bouquet, young lady!”

you look behind you and gasps, it is—“satoru?!”

“yes, satoru!” your boyfriend huffs, making his way towards you.

he firmly takes a stance in front of you, contrasting his intimidating position with his infamous pout, “it’s not fair for you to take the bouquet!”

you sway your hip to the side sassily, “does it make a difference? we’re getting married either way!”

your boyfriend shakes his head, “no, babe!” he places his hands on his chest, pushing his theatrics till the top, “I need to be the star!”

he crumbles to the floor and you merely stare at him in silence.

you see your cousin approach you and your boyfriend, “first of all, I am the star, and second, if you don’t stop fighting, I am taking the bouquet back.”

your boyfriend gasps clinging to your legs, “babe, your cousin is super mean!”

you pat his head with a sigh and he happily presses a kiss to your thigh. what a taxing man to be with.

“sweets, I wanna pee.”

taxing child.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your boyfriend was—surprisingly—invited to a friend’s wedding, which he hated as he was planning on taking you to a stargazing sight because you’ve been talking about it ever since you saw it multiple times on tiktok.

so, here you are with your boyfriend put into a suit by force.

you’re pretty sure that he is going to rip it any moment, but you would rather he does that when you’re both alone: you don’t necessarily mind a show.

anyway, you are sat with your dear lover who hasn’t stopped frowning since you’ve entered the darn hall.

the only good social thing he has done so far is greeting the groom and the bride. other than that, his hand never left yours and he stuck by you.

it’s cute, though, even if he argues that he is anything but.

you hear them announce that they’re finally throwing the bouquet so you give sukuna a quick peck then run to reserve your space.

now, you get very competitive in certain things, and this is certainly one of them. you will be going home with that bouquet.

and true to your goal, the moment the bouquet is at a height you can reach, you jump at it, holding on for dear life.

your feet reach the ground once again, and you raise your hand in victory, “I did it!”

you don’t see sukuna rolling his eyes fondly and with a proud grin that screams ‘that’s my girl’.

after a bit of applause, you quickly turn to your boyfriend and walk towards his table, radiating with confidence.

you place the bouquet on the table then you lean on your elbows, “I caught the bouquet,” you wink, “what do you think?”

“of course, you would get it,” he hums, “you’re mine, and I don’t settle for less than the best.”

you roll your eyes and lean towards him, swirling the drink that you stole from him, “it’s quite the commitment that we’re getting into,” you then look and lock eyes with him, “think you can handle that?”

“there’s nothing I can’t handle, loser.”

you giggle before cooing, “aww, you love me so much,” he gently shoves you, before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you back towards him.

“I tolerate you.”

“so love!”

“no.”

NANAMI KENTO:

jingling bells, clicking heels, steaming food, and loving couples including you and your dear boyfriend fill today’s wedding hall.

a mutual friend of yours and nanami finally tied the knot with their lover, and you were happily invited.

it was a never ending party of laughter and happy tears—that you efficiently hid by burying your face in your boyfriend’s chest.

things calmed down a bit, leaving you to fangirl about how cute your friend is to nanami.

“but kento, she looked so cute! she is so pretty! he better not hurt her!”

nanami keeps munching on his bread, “I think she is capable of handling that herself.”

you cross your arms with a huff, “what do you mean?”

“she is carrying a shotgun.”

“oh, you right,” you acknowledge, before running towards the dance floor when you see your friend about to throw the bouquet, “f/n, you better not throw that until I tell you!”

“if you don’t get then you just have a major skill issue!”

you gasp, taking a battle stance in the middle of the of the dance floor. you hear your friend giggle, before she finally throws the bouquet into the air.

from then, it’s a cat fight between you and the rest of the people.

however, you come out as victorious then excitedly running towards nanami, “kento! kento! did you see me?”

“mhm, you looked lovely as always,” he chuckles, giving you his full attention.

you giggle, taking a seat beside him. you start talking about your fight(?) to get the bouquet while nanami stealthily takes a plate of your favourite snacks from the buffet and slides it to you.

you gasp, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “thank you, love!”

he hums, eyeing the bouquet, “you know,” then he says, fidgeting with his watch a little, “I can get you a better bouquet if you want—with a side of a ring, of course.”

you were about to finally dig in, but your brain quickly short circuits at his comment, “oh.”

slowly, you turn to him, feeling your face get warmer by the second.

he laughs lightly, hand coming to rest on yours, “I am not joking,” he pulls your hand up for a small peck, “I am just waiting for the right time so please be patient with me.”

GETO SUGURU:

the moment the vows were exchanged, music was blasted to the roof, and everyone was partying to the max.

your cousin, the bride, is dancing to the beat with vigor and excitement you’ve never seen before.

you would like to join her, but geto just won’t let you since he knows that you will somehow end up drunk off your mind and dancing on one of the tables.

so you’re sat with him right now, sulking and glaring at him.

“babe, don’t be so sad now, please? I am only doing this so you don’t accidentally hurt yourself.”

you huff and turn your back on him, “I am a full-functioning adult; thank you very much!”

his hand slowly inches towards yours, “the prettiest full-functioning adult,” he smiles, pulling his chair closer to you. “and the smartest too, did you know that?”

you almost give into his advances—his charming smile is far too lethal—but you’ve developed a bit of immunity to his actions.

so instead, you face him with a teasing smile, “I would love if you tell me more—after I successfully steal the bouquet.”

“steal?”

you roll your eyes, “acquire.”

he laughs lightly, and you take it as your cue to run towards the group of women huddled behind your cousin.

you stand proudly, “c/n, throw your bouquet!”

“no!”

“what?!”

“just kidding!”

and so the bouquet flies and ‘accidentally’ lands in your hands—it’s no accident; you’ve been training your entire life for this moment.

people whoop and applaud, and you bow to audience, before scurrying to your darling boyfriend.

you wave the bouquet in your hand, and he nods knowingly, “guess you’re never get rid of me,” you muse, hugging the bouquet to your chest, “what a pity, right?”

he looks at you confused then sighs with a smile, “I never planned to, but okay.”

you beam at him and throw your arms around him, and he laughs, hugging you closer.

you trace shapes on his back and murmur, “you’re way too cute for your own good.”

“I need to charm you one way or another, you know,” he replies, motioning for the waiter to get you two more drinks.

he stays silent for a moment, “you can go get hammered—“

“not!”

“okay, not hammered with your cousin.”

“yay!” you scream joyously and run away.

guess who ended up drunk and dancing on a table.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

toji and a wedding?

it’s a combination most would not expect, but it isn’t his wedding anyway, so he can’t complain about it being too much commitment right now.

the only thing he can complain about is being put into this ‘suffocating’ suit—a sight you love.

“do we really have to stay till the end?”

you turn towards him, mortified, “this is literally your best friend’s wedding.”

he shrugs, “so?”

with a shake of your head, you drag him further down the hall to your assigned seats. at least, holding your hand is enough to pacify him.

the wedding goes as you would expect, aside from toji almost falling asleep.

you are now just standing beside the clearly expensive and delicious buffet—your true love.

toji is happily indulging in the food laid out in front of him, and you are about to do the same, but you notice that the bouquet throw is about to happen.

so you dash out of your seat just in time to catch that rogue bouquet. you raise your hand, announcing yourself as the now rightful owner of this bouquet.

that’s why you excitedly search for toji to show him your new prize.

you rush towards the table that you left your boyfriend at, “toji, I got it!—toji?”

a look left, a look right, your eyes widen. did the darn guy leave the moment you caught the bouquet? no way his fear of commitment is this intense.

you take note of the groom—toji’s bestie—shaking his head.

feeling embarrassed, you frown and yell for him, “toji fushiguro!”

suddenly, you feel a presence behind your back. you feel the person lean towards your ear a bit, and they whisper a small, “hey.”

you gasp, spinning to smack him square on the shoulder, “I hate you!”

he teases, almost like your hit was never there in the first place, “now now, that isn’t something you say to your future husband,” he grins and you scrunch your face in disgust.

you turn on your heel to walk away from him, “kill yourself.”

“what a foul mouth,” he whistles, following you until you finally give up and are given the chance to punch him in the stomach to make for the scare he gave you.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin @babyqueen17 @chaosguy352 @murakami-kotone @sukun4ryomen @yumieis

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

5K notes · View notes

joelscurls · 1 year ago

Text

I wanna show you off

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 4.1k

summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!

If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.

Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.

It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.

The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.

You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.

You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.

You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.

Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.

It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.

They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.

Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.

One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers.

He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.

“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.

“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”

“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”

You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”

Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.

Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!

“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”

“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.

“You know I love you, right?”

You sniff again. Nod.

“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”

“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself.

Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.”

You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.

You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.

You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath.

“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”

He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face.

“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?”

And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.

You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him. Ruined him for any other woman.

So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.

“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.

“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.

“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch.

Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.

“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.

He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim.

Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull.

“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”

His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.

Yours, yours, yours.

And nobody else’s.

“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you.

“Got it.”

It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox.

“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all.

“Uh-”

“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”

“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense.

But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.

You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.

“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him.

Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.

“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.”

Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.”

You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward.

Sheila pays you no attention.

“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”

Your vision blurs scarlet.

Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“

“Sheila,” she reminds him.

“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”

You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.

And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head.

Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.

“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.

You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now.

“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated.

You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush.

With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours.

Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.

Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.

He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears.

So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”

“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?”

Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes.

Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle.

You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?

“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”

You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.”

He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”

His belt falls to the floor with a clang.

He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.

It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.

“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.

“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.”

His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy.

“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.

“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?”

Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from.

Sheila is home.

Perfect.

It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing.

You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea.

“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?”

“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.”

“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip.

Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used.

“You sure?”

It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise.

But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you.

You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length.

Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx.

The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop.

He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him.

“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat.

He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it.

“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?”

You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.

The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.

You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.

His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in.

“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.

“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”

“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”

It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.

When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.

The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot.

“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep.

“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”

He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.

“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”

A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile.

Do you hear that? Yeah; what is that noise?

Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you.

“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”

Oh my word!

Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp.

The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast.

If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.

“Joel, fuck-”

“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”

This is vulgar! We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.

His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted.

Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt.

He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle.

A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.

Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!

And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth.

“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air.

“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?”

“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.

end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal as joel miller #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

5K notes · View notes