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fairlyang · 1 month ago

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Summer Lovin’: We Go Together 🕷️

w/c: 6.9K

pairing: greaser!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. infamous dance scene w mig proving himself (better ending), his friends are instigators, drive in, groping, exhibitionism, fingering, stroking, praise, teasing, finally fucks you, riding, missionary, sweet ending

a/n: AHHHHH after 10 months my beloved part 3 is done!!! a year ago i first thought of this au and wrote it just for fun bc i love grease, now i’m happy to close this lil chapter after putting it off so long. honestly one of my favs series i’ve written :’)

part one — part two — the dress/tl of events

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

Four weeks had passed and Miguel had taken every opportunity possible to take you out and practically show everyone that you were his.

It was a different sight to see for everyone, especially his fellow T Birds with the exception of Danny, who was really happy for him.

Kenickie also didn’t really care, mostly because he found himself in a predicament just like yours but unlike Miguel, he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself yet.

Unfortunately the younger three T Birds couldn’t believe it and started bickering to Miguel as soon as he broke the news to all of them.

While he got wide grins and bats on the back from Kenickie, and Danny, on the other hand he just got eye rolls and scoffs from the other three who couldn’t fathom thee Miguel O’Hara was finally living down his playboy ways.

They couldn’t believe one of their leaders, who taught them how to be the way they were, was just done with fooling around with a handful of girls at a time.

The girls on the other hand were shocked, with the exception of Frenchy and Sandy who somewhat had an idea where his head was at but the other three were not expecting that from him.

They didn’t believe it at first until the first week passed and it was so obvious to anyone with eyes that he was finally done with his bullshit.

Finally having pure happiness and tranquility with him by your side was all you could really ask for.

So after a bunch of cute dates and shared kisses, it was finally the day of the dance. You ended up going shopping with Frenchy and Sandy the day after the diner date because you just couldn’t wait and were so excited. They said you had to buy a new dress, one that Miguel would love.

And you found it.

You decided on a red cocktail dress that had a black ribbon around the waist and around the neckline as well, to tie behind your neck. It had some white ruffles underneath for more volume and Frenchy said it’d work great for the dances.

You thought it was so pretty and would impress Miguel.

And it did way more than that.

His jaw was practically on the floor when he picked you up and you had to drag him to his car before your mom forced you into taking pictures as if it was prom because he wore a matching red dress shirt with a black jacket.

Plus surely the cameras would capture good ones since the whole country was gonna see everyone dance live.

Somehow this university was picked out of all the other ones.

Some kind of miracle.

Or maybe a curse.

But the T birds claimed the principal must’ve slept with the host or something to consider Rydell.

You just gave them a side eye while Miguel scolded them for being dumbasses and always thinking in the gutter.

Both friend groups were together with the exception of Rizzo and Kenickie who split up and were nowhere to be seen.

Everyone was gossiping and judging people’s outfits or people’s dates but you just made yourself comfortable in Miguel’s arms while minding your business.

You felt so happy everything ended up working out and now you could truly be yourself with Miguel without the fear of him acting like a piece of shit.

Because if you were affectionate or doing some kind of pda, he’d just follow your lead.

It was the perfect change of pace after everything that’s happened and you owed it to yourselves to be so smitten in public.

You sighed and hugged him a little tighter when finally one of the professors tells everyone to form a circle and that the cameras will run shortly but that they wanted to do a warm up dance with the band.

Everyone ran inside the circle as soon as the tune of “Rock And Roll Is Here To Stay” started playing. All the couples were already hand in hand while the singletons sat off on the benches off to the side.

You and Miguel started just by dancing next to each other before he was in front of you, grabbing your hands, moving them side to side with his. He then gave you a quick spin before lifting you up, your legs going way up almost hitting the professor, who was keeping an eye out.

Miguel then somehow lifted you over his back and maneuvered you so you’d land straight up in front of him.

The professor was nodding his head before walking away while you continued being in sync with Miguel.

Some of the couples unfortunately couldn’t do that, one guy dropped the girl he was partnered with which resulted in her yelling at him for spoiling her chance to be on national television.

He walked around the circle observing who would still be in and who he’d have to cut short for raunchy actions which turned out to be quite the handful.

He found his way back to you guys when Miguel picked up up again, your legs were around his waist then you’re back in the air before he carefully drops you to the ground and you’re underneath him.

He turns around, grabbing your hands before he picks you back up. You do little bunny skips for a few seconds before picking you up once again, your hands holding the back of his head right. He then dipped you down while your legs cling onto his waist for dear life and he luckily didn’t drop you.

And it caught the eye of the professor who was taking some notes down. Frenchy and Doodie were watching you which had the prof assume they knew you.

Course they did.

But only would Doodie’s dumbass lie when asked about your names, claiming it’s Fred and Ginger. Frenchy scolded him but he just waved her off while the prof wrote those names down.

Meanwhile you and Miguel went to sit at the benches, just to catch your breath for a bit when something came to mind. “What if I get camera shy?” You ask making him laugh.

“I’m sure you’ll be alright. We’ll be good, right? Hm?” He says and you nod.

“We’ll be good.” You answer and he grins.

“Thatta girl. Now come on let’s go.” He says and grabs your hand, pulling you up and going back to the dance floor.

Meanwhile the next song was playing, a little slower one but on one corner of the gym was Rizzo and her new boy toy because she had a pregnancy scare with Kenickie and had no choice but to drop him.

Which only resulted in Kenickie getting Rizzo’s boy toy’s ex girl as his date.

A whole mess but it should’ve been expected with the amount of toxicity Kenickie and Rizzo have shown towards each other.

Rizzo saw them and gasped before stepping in front of her new man so he wouldn’t see but it was hard not to see with Kenickie giving this girl one of his so called “rare souvenirs”.

Jan and Putzie were also dancing. Or attempting to. Jan has only ever led while dancing which had them both in position to lead which only made them look stiff.

Frenchy was asking Doodie if he could at least spin her but he was counting his steps and trying hard to concentrate. It only looked like he was marching on the floor over trying to dance.

Danny and Sandy were off slow dancing, whispering in each others faces while they ignored everyone else around them. He’d occasionally spin her then pull her towards him to snatch a kiss from her.

You and Miguel were dancing back and forth until Miguel started just going backwards while attempting to sing like the singer of the band. “You have such a beautiful voice Miguel.” You tease making him continue at a lower octave.

You laughed and you somehow landed right where half your friend group was. He stops when he sees Kenickie’s date, and he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close while your arm was around his waist, not questioning a thing.

“‘Hara meet my date, Cha Cha.” Kenickie introduces him to her but he just shrugs and leans his head against yours.

“What’s up ‘Hara baby?” She says making you scoff but Miguel pulls you even closer to him.

“Who is she?” Doodie asked making Frenchy scoff as well.

“They call me Cha Cha because I’m the best dancer around.” She replies with a cocky smirk making you roll your eyes.

Great.

“With the worst reputation.” Frenchy mumbles making you and Sandy snicker.

He ignored her completely and lets go of you to grab your hand again, leading you back to the dance floor. “Do I wanna ask?” You mutter under your breath making him sigh.

“Ex…. Not girlfriend.. or fling.. we’ll go with dancing partner.” He says, stopping in the middle of the dance floor and pulls you close.

“Past is in the past.” He whispers and places his hands on your waist while yours wrapped behind his neck.

“I only care about my future with the girl I’m going steady with.” He adds and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“That’s good to hear.” You say relieved.

Not that you already didn’t trust his promising words to you but because you could tell she was trying to cause something. A reaction out of either of you which she didn’t get.

The song ended and the band stops until they play the next song which has everyone sprinting to make two straight lines, one for the girls and one for the boys.

The couple at the very end walk through the middle of both lines until they get to the other side by the stage and go to the front of the line meanwhile there’s another couple a few feet from them already dancing

Miguel made sure you were directly in front of him while the rest of the guys directed their girls next to you.

The first few couples you didn’t recognize but from your group was Kenickie and Cha Cha followed by Danny and Sandy. Then it was you and Miguel followed by Frenchy and Doodie.

Then it was Jan and Putzie with Sunny by himself behind them because Marty was too busy flirting it up with the host and uninterested in his flirty attempts towards her. And lastly it was Rizzo and her man.

The song ends and the assistant principal climbs up on stage and yells, “The Rydell fight song!!”

Suddenly the principal and coach make their way through the middle of the line and as they moved the lines disappeared because people were so bumped for the cameras to finally roll.

They climbed on stage and the band stops playing their music while everyone cheers. “When you are finished.” The principal says into a mic and everyone quickly quiets down.

“You will be happy to know I am not judging the dance contest.” She says and the loudest of cheers were immediately screamed from the whole gym.

The coach grins and tries to quiet everyone down, which works out because everyone loves him.

She then goes on what seems to be a lecture to be on the best behavior because national television and blah blah blah, it was going on one ear and directly out of the other, no one gave a shit.

Then finally she introduces Vince Fontaine who was a radio dj and somehow was judging this contest.

All the girls screamed and everyone’s looking around but he was nowhere to be seen until finally he heard his name and stopped flirting with Marty. He ran off from behind some float they had at the back of the gym and ran into the crowd.

Everyone bombarded him and the guys moved him forward, carrying him until he got to the front of the stage. Kenickie and Miguel lifted him up to the stage and he immediately started thrusting into the crowd.

The coach then explains the rules which included couples for some reason had to be boy-girl, if you’re tapped on the shoulder you have to leave the dance floor, and lastly no vulgar movements.

That for some reason had people looking, pointing, and laughing at Rizzo which you found weird and oddly specific they all thought of her but there was no time to question that.

Suddenly the professor from earlier runs on stage and says, “forty seconds.” then scrambled off.

Vince then took the mic and started hyping up the crowd and telling everyone to not worry about the cameras and to just be themselves.

Then the cameras are on and he puts on his professional voice when introducing the band then student body before the band starts playing Hound Dog and all hell breaks loose.

Everyone scrambled to be in a good position, dancing in sync while holding their partner by the waist or hand.

But they stopped as soon as Doodie spotted a camera and called it out making literally the entire floor to try to be at the very front of it.

Guys were carrying their girls up on their shoulders and everyone was waving or blowing kisses to the camera.

But some of the professors were demanding the guys to put the girls down and to get back to dancing again or they’d be disqualified.

Everyone went back to dancing when Miguel grabs your hand and leads you to the very front where all the cameras would be pointing towards.

You danced in front of it and you were glad your nerves didn’t come in otherwise this would’ve been a mess.

Miguel picked you up then spun you around before dancing back and forth to the music.

The camera moved along the front and captured everyone’s excited faces as the song was coming to its end.

One of the other cameras pointed to Vince and Patty and Marty that were on either side of him while they were in the back of the gym.

He hyped up the crowd once again before randomly asking, “Hey does everybody know Marty?”

The T Birds of course yelled that they did and all kinds of stupid things before she made faces at them forgetting just for a second that she was directly on frame.

The next song starts and so many couples were already out. All the couples were in sync with the little hand motions for this specific song and Vince was walking through, now able to look at every couple.

He started off with Kenickie, who was pretending he was slapping Cha Cha while she pretended she was getting hit before thrusting towards him with Kenickie behind him.

He walked away and looked at you and Miguel while you remained eye contact, not stopping from doing the hand jive like everyone else was doing.

He walked around some more before ending up with Marty but he got distracted by Doodie’s horrific dancing in front of him he had to tap his shoulder.

He then walked to the center of the floor where he found Rizzo and her man dancing, vulgarly. He was on his knees as if he was about to eat her out and she was thrusting back and forth.

Vince instantly tapped the man’s shoulder and walked away. Rizzo and her man walked off only for her man to walk past Cha Cha and thrust in front of her which only resulted in Kenickie to jump him.

He started throwing punches and they were thrown right back making the singer of the band shout, “break up, break up, what is that?!?”

Rizzo and Cha Cha tried to break it off but it was hard until Cha Cha led Kenickie back to the dance floor to stay center stage.

That was until there was a circle of the couples that were left and everyone had a chance to be in the middle to show off what they got. Some were of course vulgar because how could they not be?

Some were very impressive and others not so much.

Patty was at the very front with Tom when suddenly Kenickie runs then slides down to Patty before standing back up while lifting her dress up.

She ran away embarrassed and Kenickie dropped to the floor and started thrusting up which prompted the assistant principal to come up and yell at him. But right after someone picked her up and shook her up and down, taking her away.

Just then Miguel pulled you to the center and you started off with more synchronized dances you’d talked about during the week. Everyone cheered and by this point most of the couples were out which was a good sign.

That was until Sunny tried to be sneaky and pull you away from Miguel when you were skipping along behind him but you stepped on Sunny’s shoe and went back to Miguel quickly.

Cha Cha was about to swoop in and take Miguel but luckily you were faster and he grabbed your hand, never a doubt in your mind that he would have picked you over her.

He led you to the very middle and you started grabbing the ends of your dress, twirling it out while you both danced in sync. You used the entire circle that formed around you and ignored everyone besides each other.

Focusing on looking good and not fucking up any of the moves but it all went perfectly and smoothly.

The chemistry through the dances was intense and very clearly unmatched when the principal came down and handed you a plaque which made you cheer and grin at Miguel who had the widest smile yet.

He was so happy and if this wasn’t enough proof to show his growth and how he now didn’t give a shit about his reputation, he didn’t know what would be.

He twirled you around a couple times before giving you a big hug in front of everyone. There were loads of cheers and screams but you only focused on him and kind of just ignoring everything else.

As if you were the last two people standing and there weren’t so many eyes on you. Even the ones from the cameras in front of you.

He pulled away first and left a kiss on your forehead but then brought a hand to your chin, lifting it up before softly pecking your lips. Even louder screams erupted but you zoned them out.

Suddenly the lights turn off and everyone who was around you dispersed, while Blue Moon started to play. Someone grabbed your plaque and you didn’t even see who it was because your eyes were just locked on him.

He stuck his hand out and you grabbed it, you spun inward into him, grabbing his other hand earning some cheers because of how smooth it looked.

Miguel then led, moving you around swiftly, one hand holding yours and the other on your lower back. He spun you in a few circles before dropping you in to a dip which you knew you had to stick a leg out.

Louder cheers echoed through your ears when he picked you back up and spun you around again slowly.

Suddenly the younger trio of the T Birds jump in front of the main camera, their jackets covering their faces, they lean over and pull down their pants and boxers leaving them bare naked, showing their asses to the whole country.

Everyone laughed but you and Miguel didn’t notice, just continued with your dancing while the lighting person focused on their asses over you two, who had won the contest.

The dance ended as soon as that happened. The cameras cut. The lights were turned back on and the “Mooners” were already long gone.

You only noticed because as soon as the lights turned on Miguel grabbed you and ran off to the exit along with the rest of your friend group. Him, Danny, and Kenickie began smacking the other three T birds and scolding them for being dumbasses.

There was chaos all over the place because the professors were trying to see who had the audacity to singlehandedly ruin the university’s reputation further.

Practically everyone went to the drive in after the dance considering it ended so early and no one was trying to go home to their parents at 10pm.

It wasn’t too packed with cars until everyone from Rydell was piling in and parking in whatever spot they could get.

Given you and your friend group were the first ones to get to their designated cars at the uni parking lot and quickly knew where you’d all go to hang and luckily got decent spots.

The girls parked in the lane behind you and Miguel, and the guys were next to them. Luckily there was still enough space between lanes in case Miguel wanted to leave and there’d be no chance of accidents unless one of the T birds did something stupid, which was highly likely.

Kenickie came up to Miguel’s window to which he rolled it down, (because Miguel finally decided to have the top of his convertible back on) and he asks, “do you want some snacks or somethin’?”

Miguel turns to you and you shake your head making Kenickie nod. He leaned in close to the window prompting Miguel to lean in, assuming he had something to tell him.

You tried to mind your business, twiddling at the end of your dress, listening to the hums of the acapella group on the radio, looking straight ahead at the large screen displaying a zombie movie they always play.

Anything to not seem like you were snooping but somehow you didn’t hear a thing when Miguel suddenly scoffs, then laughs before waving Kenickie off.

Kenickie gave him a wide grin before walking away, most likely off with the rest of the gang making you wonder what on earth just happened.

He didn’t say anything and only wrapped his right arm over your shoulder while he rolled his window up but left a tiny bit of space to at least hear the movie.

But that wasn’t top priority in his head.

Top priority was something he’s been thinking about for ages.

A long while since those days you had spent together at the beach.

And what better time to follow through with his dirty ideas than now?

So he brought his hand lower, inching closer and closer to just full on grope your right breast. You could almost sense a change in the air and that was confirmed when his hand didn’t stop it’s movements and indeed did grope you. “Miguel!” You squealed and he laughed before leaning his head down to kiss your neck.

You bit your lip as he squeezed your breast softly but left quite a mark on you. “I-It’s the way we just got here Miguel-“ you stammer as he hums against your skin, sending shivers all throughout your body.

“Do you really care about the damn movie darling?” He murmurs making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Well….”

“That’s what I thought.” He teases and pulls away, now looking at you directly.

“Now.. I had something in mind for tonight.” He says softly before taking his arm off you too.

“And what would that be?” You ask and tilt your head to the side.

What was he plotting?

“Maybe going all the way?” He suggests and you widen your eyes.

“Here?” You ask, making him nod as you laughed.

“You gotta be joking right?” You say and he shakes his head.

“Do you think I’m joking?” He murmurs before going back to kissing your neck.

You breathe in and squeeze your legs together, this man cannot be serious.

“You don’t have tinted windows-” You say but interrupt yourself with a moan leaving your mouth as his right hand went back to groping your right breast.

“Don’t worry, no one’s watching.” He murmurs nonchalantly but it didn’t make you feel any better.

“You have perverted friends Mig, be serious!!” You laugh making him snort.

“Do you want me to remind you how we met-“ he teases, making you groan.

“Fuck-“ you curse and realize it’s practically the same thing.

“This is sort of different- there’s actually people around.” You mumble.

“Kenickie will put ‘em in check and look around this is a hot spot.” He mutters and you could only hum.

It was true.

People wouldn’t exactly be peeking because they were most likely busy themselves.

And you’ve been needing him to fuck you…

So why not after he proved himself to you?

You lightly nod and he grins, “was an offer you couldn’t refuse huh?”

His teasing only made you roll your eyes but he was right. After practically dreaming of it for so long, how could you not?

And after such an overall amazing night, why not?

“You’re such a horn dog you know that?” you tease and he shrugs.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” he murmurs and pecks your lips.

he slowly brought his hand down, just placing it on your thigh and inching lower so he can bring his hand under your dress. “you looked so beautiful tonight.” he murmurs making you sigh.

“you don’t look too bad either.” you teased as you pulled your dress up for him and his hand started squeezing your thigh.

“gonna have to only use my hands because the car’s a bit small..” he murmured and you just nodded, “it’s fine.”

you spread your legs apart, putting your left leg on top of his right and his hand makes it way down, reaching your inner thigh, “y’know i had a whole plan for this, after a nice date, maybe some rose petals and candles…”

“changed your mind?” you asked and he shook his head.

his hand went up until it touched the waistband of your panties and whispered, “you just look too fucking good, i got impatient.”

you felt your face grow warm and you looked at him, a sparkle in your eyes and a sweet smile on your face, “so romantic.”

he fought back a smile but seeing your pretty face, he couldn’t help but smile along with you. “our second time can be special.”

you chuckle and shrug, “this is more like us.”

he grins, leaning in and letting his head rest against yours while his hand went down, now over your clothed pussy. he lightly rubs your clit with two fingers, feeling you relax as you lay your head on his shoulder. “it’s felt like ages since the last time.” he whispered and you let out a sigh.

“a whole month.” you whined, making him groan, “a month and three days.”

“someone’s keeping track.” you tease then let out a moan when he starts to rub your clit faster.

“that’s it.. let me hear you doll, i’ve missed you.” he purrs and you hold onto his arm, bucking your hips up to grind against his fingers.

“missed your touch baby.” you whisper earning yourself a moan from him.

“let’s never go this long again.” he mumbles and you quickly nod.

“it’s been torture.. but maybe worth it.” you say and he hums, “whys that?”

you tilt your head up to look at him and he looks down at you, “because it’s gonna feel so good when you’re finally inside me…”

he takes a deep breath and you move your left hand, putting it on his thigh then slowly trailing it up, “you’re actually going to kill me.”

“and you are too with how slow you’re movin’” you whine, making him scoff.

“sorry for trying to set the mood.” he says fake defensively and gives you a pout.

“mood is set, c’mon we’re doing this.” you say, moving your panties to the side with your right hand.

“yes ma’am.” he says and brings his right hand to his mouth.

he sucks on two fingers just for your viewing pleasure then gathers his saliva onto them to ensure you’re nice and wet whether you already are or not. he then pulls them away and a string of saliva connects his finger and his tongue making your brain turn to mush.

he looked so fucking good. he had no business looking so hot doing something so dirty.

he then brought his hand down between your legs again and let his fingers rub gently against your folds. your pool of slick and his wet fingers combined together, perfect for the idea in his head.

his fingers go to tease your entrance for a solid two seconds before actually slipping them inside. your walls immediately clenched against them and you moved your hand higher until you felt his bulge. he opened his mouth to complain when you suddenly started to stroke him through his pants — you both moaned, unable to hide how good it feels.

you’d only just begun but felt like you’d be able to come fast just because it was finally him touching you. you weren’t relying on your own fingers after a month and it was surreal.

it was like his touch ignited something in you that only he was able to do. you usually felt it when he held your hand or waist but this time it was stronger.

you stroked him faster as he pumped his fingers deeper, still keeping a slow pace. he was paying close attention to the wet noises, it was like music to his ears. you were slightly distracting him but he was luckily good at multitasking.

you attempted to undo his pants with one hand but struggling miserably so he helped you with his left hand. he stood up the tiniest bit just to pull his pants down over his ass and kept them by his thighs.

he went back to focusing on the pace he set but as your stroking was starting off fast, he matched your pace instead. your eyes fluttered and you laid your head against his shoulder again to be more comfortable.

you let out some deep breaths, already on the verge of asking him for more but knowing he’d make you wait. he on the other hand thought you’d need this and didn’t want to be too pushy or accidentally be too greedy so he figured he’d stretch you out with his fingers.

you let out quiet moans as you slipped your hand inside his boxers and take it out. his cock springs up and you quickly take hold of it, leaning over to spit on it then stroke it. he groans as you went back to your previous position and pumps his fingers faster, “fuck baby-“

“feels too good-“ you murmured, making him grunt, “yeah? feel good doll?”

you nod and grind your hips up, “need more.”

“you sure?” he asks and you eagerly nod.

“please.” you murmur, and he practically melts.

he slips his fingers out of you and you quickly let him go as he motions for you to get on top, “c’mere, c’mere.”

cock already out and ready for you, you nod and sit up, swinging your right leg over until you’re straddling his lap. you grab the ends of your dress and bring it up to your stomach, “hey, we’re gonna take this slow okay?” he says as you hover over him.

you pout and he just brings a hand to your face, softly stroking your cheek with his thumb, “don’t worry, i won’t keep you waiting too long.”

“better not, been waiting three months.” you whine and he pouts, “you have been so patient huh, baby?”

you bit your lip and nod, “slip it in and take your time.” he murmurs as you lift yourself up and line his cock up to your entrance.

just the tip teasing it alone was insane. after all you’re both finally getting what you’ve been craving the most.

“fuck please.” you whine as his tip slips to the side because you were extremely drenched.

he then helps you and you slowly feel it going in. you gasp and cover your hand over your mouth, “oh fuck-!”

“shhh, you have to be quiet baby, I don’t want these perverts to hear how good my girl sounds for me.” he says, making you whimper. you’ll never get tired of hearing that.

you then grip onto to his shoulders as his hands are on your waist, patiently. you slide down and more whimpers erupt from your mouth.

he was so thick.

maybe it was a good thing he fingered you first otherwise you would not have been anywhere near prepared.

“take your time baby.” he whispers and you nod.

you straighten yourself up and just stay like that, only having the tip inside, to get use to it. after a few seconds you feel fine and slide down some more slowly. you both moan and his grip on your waist tightens.

“miguel please just fuck me.” you whine and he shakes his head.

“I need you to get use to it before I do.” he says, making you groan.

“need you.” you whine and he shakes his head again.

“you’re doing so good already baby, just keep going until you can fit it all.” he murmurs and you sigh.

you know he desperately wants to fuck you, and you want the same but he also didn’t want to hurt you. he wanted it to be completely enjoyable for you so he thought having you take it in cowgirl was a good start because you had full control.

“c’mon baby, you can do it.” he murmurs as you pull yourself up then right back down.

you were able to take a tiny bit more but it was still a lot. you already felt so full and you were probably about halfway. this was a problem you never thought you’d have but apparently anything can happen.

“just like that angel, doing so good for me.” he purrs and look down at your pussy slowly taking him in.

it was quite the sight. he wasn’t so sure how he had been able to control himself around you because you were both horny people but somehow kept your hands off each other. mostly just to not rely on sexual things for your relationship.

it helped. your relationship had been thriving but now it was finally time to go all the way.

“i didn’t think i’d need to fucking practice.” you whined, earning yourself a laugh from him.

“baby you’ve got eyes, you already knew.” he murmurs and you shrug.

you lower yourself down, now feeling pleasure over slight pain so you full on sat on his lap, his length fully inside you now. you both moaned and his fingers dug into your skin, “so perfect baby-“

“so big..” you murmured and leaned your head forward towards his.

he moans and that’s when you decide to start moving. you pulled yourself up then bounced your ass down until you could feel him all inside you. “fucking shit- fuck baby.. gonna make me come so quick, just so tight.”

your eyes lit up with his words and your gummy walls clenched against him, making him twitch. he took a breather and pulled your hips up then helped you go down. he helped you for a few more minutes until you got the hang of it and began doing it yourself.

he watched you in absolute awe. he never thought he’d gain feelings for someone, let alone such strong ones that filled his every waking thought. and those feeling always seemed to keep him up at night as well.

he didn’t realize how badly he needed you like this until he looked down to watch how your pussy took his cock in. it’s exactly what he’s been desperately needing.

and it was like he fit perfectly inside you, like a missing puzzle piece. like you belonged together.

he thought it was enough teasing for the night so he quickly grabbed you tightly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. he then sat up before bringing your body down so you could lay down whilst still inside you.

“you ready?” he asks and you nod.

without another word he starts to properly fuck you, pulling your legs back which had you thinking to hold on to them so you did.

his thrusts were fast and messy, already feeling he could explode because you felt incredible. he swore he’s never felt pleasure this god-like until he met you.

he could’ve sworn you amplified the feeling when you touched him. it was all he could ever ask for in life, someone who drove him crazy in more ways than one.

your eyes fluttered shut as he relentlessly thrusted into you, the sweet melody of your moans filled his ears and it was the only noises he’d ever need.

“fuck miguel- god- filling me up so good.” you moaned and he swore he could feel himself twitch already.

“gonna fill you up alright..” he murmurs and holds onto the back of your thighs to help stable himself.

you moaned his name and watch how he fucked you to perfection. the way your pussy took his cock in was mesmerizing and if was such a pretty view. it was all you had been wanting and you finally got it, and it was better than anything you could’ve imagined.

he lowered himself down until he got right in front of your face and he starts going harder while he leaned down to kiss you. you instantly kissed back, moaning in his mouth with nearly every thrust.

he slid his tongue into your mouth and explored every crevice as you brought your hands up to his hair. you run your fingers through it, messing up his style just because you needed something to play with.

you tugged on them, making him moan into your mouth which just had you grinning ear to ear. you pulled away and he went down to your neck, kissing and licking every inch he could before he sucked a love bite into your skin, “fuck mig- p-please don’t stop-“ you whimpered out and he took your words to heart.

his thrusts were now the perfect combination of fast and hard, making sure you’d let out any and all the noises your heart desired. the car was moving back and forth and you could only pray that everyone around you was doing the same.

“too fucking perfect doll- god you’re amazing-“ he murmurs against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

he pulled away from your neck and looks into your eyes as he feels himself already getting closer to the edge. you could feel him twitch inside you again but this time it was enough for you to clench against him. he swore under his breath then watched your face perfectly.

your eyes were fighting hard to stay open and he was having a hard time keeping it together. but with each passing thrust he felt you getting close to the edge along with him. your face contorted and he knew you wouldn’t be able to lie so he fucked his hips into your repeatedly, desperate to cum.

he felt his orgasm building and he looked at you with pure joy in his eyes, well it was more of something else that he had never felt before, and there was no better time to admit it than now, “I love you.”

you snapped out of your hazy world and blinked, wondering if you really just heard that. his eyes were wide and his cheeks flushed into a pretty red color while you remained speechless. his thrusts were going deeper and you were glad he didn’t stop, otherwise you were going to assume this was all a dream.

you brought a hand up to his cheek, slight tears welling in your eyes as you smiled, “I love you.”

he grinned, tears threatening to fall out of his as well because he was just filled with so much love. so much love that he didn’t think was possible to feel.

you single-handedly changed him and had gotten him wrapped around your finger. the best part was he didn’t mind one bit.

right at that moment you both reached your orgasms and sealed the magic words with a loving kiss that you didn’t want to pull away from. he spilled his load as deep as he could go as you shook beneath him, holding onto him for dear life as he kissed you softly.

he slowed down and let you ride out your highs as you continued your sweet, sloppy kiss with tears running down both your cheeks. he pulled away, bringing a hand up to wipe them away while you did the same to his.

you let out a choked laugh, feeling so happy like you were on top of the world. he smiled and gave you a peck before pulling out of you then getting off you.

you fixed your panties then pulled your dress down as miguel helped you sit up then pulled you into his arms. you embraced him and cling onto him tightly to ensure he’s real. once you heard him let out an exaggerated cough, you knew he was.

and now there was no doubt in your mind that you made the right decision. that you were right to forgive him. and that you were truly, madly, hopelessly in love with miguel o’hara.

#across the spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #spider man 2099 #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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skrunksthatwunk · 4 months ago

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some other adventures from this have been

three CONSECUTIVE scenes of kuwabara going "you're NOT gonna die on me again urameshi :((" during genkai's tournament. they JUST cut to him for that and then cut away it's SICKENING. like heyy reminder that kuwabara was traumatized a bit by yusuke's death teehee and then back to like. exploding shuriken fights

realizing how much they lean into the "fight me fight me fight me" stuff in the rando arc and how much less that's the case with time because like. they actually become friends who have other stuff to talk about now :)

great beasts/maze castle/saint beasts/WHATEVER arc (and genkai's tourny) has just. they're telling each other to shut up Constantly like even more than i thought

i think i mentioned this a while back but im working on an "every kuwameshi" video right (yes it's ridiculous i know somebody take them away from me) and i just need to say im so fucking sick of editing the saint beasts arc </3 pls i love that one normally but this section of the video is like. 70% silent group shots it's so bad and not fun to watch or edit and i hate it :[

#ok i know i said in the tags that i was really committed to the 'EVERY kuwameshi' thing but i might get rid of the shots where thhey're not #like. posing or interacting or talking or anything bc that's just not really worth it #it'd make it faster and probably better to watch #but i'm also worried that my focus on condensing it when i know it's gonna be such a long video #means that it'll be kind of an overwhelming barrage of content otherwise. which wouldn't be good for a long video like this #so group shots like that can create natural breaks. idk i'm not sure #i have not done this before :/ and i hopefully won't do it again with a series this long like holy hell #i will also say that some of the magic of kuwameshi is a little lost in that just because you have no point of reference for like #how they act w each other vs with everyone else. both in similarities and differences #you don't get a good grasp on how common these moments are relatively speaking and you don't get a great sense of their group dynamics #and it actually makes me kind of sad to hone in on only those two because like. everyone is so damn special there #i don't like yyh bc i think kuwabara and yusuke should kiss or whatever it's bc of how well realized these relationships (esp the #friendships and not-quite-friendships) are. they're so multifaceted that focusing on only two characters robs the audience of the context #those moments sit in. kuwameshi + hiei vs kuwameshi + botan vs kuwameshi + genkai are all different and special dynamics and by clipping #only those two it kind of flattens things a little. at least if you don't make an effort to pay attention to the remaining context while #watching. however i love those two and highlighting their relationship specifically doesn't inherently mean that they're the only ones #i think worth your time nor the only characters i care to see them interact with. yyh is very special to me and i don't want to diminish it #by reducing it to something with a couple of peak homoerotic relationships. it's far far better than that #however. since this is a tiny fandom and kuwameshi isn't exactly the most popular dynamic in the world i feel a little better doing so #because it's like.. it's not as if it'll sway the fandom's conversations THAT hard away from all the stuff we love about yyh right?#such that the ship is known before the media itself. at least that's what i hope. there's pieces of media i'm attached to mostly for certai #characters or dynamics and that's usually limited to media i'm not That into. but yyh is MINE and i don't want anyone to think this is all #about it that matters to me. ugh idk why i'm getting so worked up about this i just. don't want it to be reduced to uwu gayboy stuff ig #like yeah uwu gayboys you're not wrong i just. there's More Going On There #and although i like to think i focus on the Other Stuff a decent amount in all the media that means a lot to me it's very important that i #make sure to do that with yyh. i guess.#anyway im also thinking about making a kuwabara cat mention video. i have like 8 lines/scenes i'm thinking of lol #(there's more than i thought so ig i'll wait and as i work keep an eye out for more of em)

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years ago

Note

hangman request incoming ‼️‼️

so the reader is best friends w rooster and whenever she’s around hangman he’s always quite rude to her, only bc he’s harbouring huge feelings for her which he isn’t very used to. then maybe he goes too far and rooster needs to talk some sense into him (reader could be a pilot or just a close friend of rooster’s)

SORRY i’m not great and giving requests but i hope there’s something in there that you like !

Ahhhh I LOVE this request!! And I really loved writing this piece, which may or may not turn into a series.. oops I couldn't resist haha

Less Talk | Part I

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Jake can't stand Bradley's best friend. What's more, he's probably in love with her, which really pisses him off.

CW: mild angst, Hangman being a dick aka Hangman being himself, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, drinking

Masterlist

“Do you ever not have an opinion?” Jake watches you irritably before taking a long swig of his drink. He needs the alcohol to calm his nerves so that he doesn’t inadvertently push you off your chair.

You glare at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A nice, safe space for Seresin to dominate the conversation without opposition.”

Jake lets out a steady breath. No one riles him quite like you do. “We’re talking about food, Y/N. It doesn’t exactly have global ramifications.”

“Actually, it does,” you respond matter-of-factly. “And are you saying I shouldn’t have an opinion unless it is ground-breaking in nature? Maybe I should just sit here quietly and look pretty.”

“Ha!” Jake cackles. “I would love to see you try.”

“Hangman!” Bradley, who’s sitting to your right, gives him a disapproving look.

You make a grimace. “I will never give you that kind of satisfaction.”

Jake meets your gaze with a hostile look. The thought of you satisfying him in any way sort of disorients him. He makes a face at you because he can’t deny that if you were to just sit there in silence, you would be exceptionally pleasant to look at. Pretty, even… maybe. Instead, he says, “How the fuck does eating avocado toast for lunch have global implications? I would love to know.”

“The recent surge in consumption of avocados - thanks to health nuts such as yourself - has led to an unprecedented increase in price to the point where those people whose culinary staple for generations has been the avocado cannot afford to keep it their diet.” You fold your arms over your chest to drive your point home while Jake just stares at you, speechless. No other woman in the world has ever rendered him that. He glances over at Bradley who is looking back at him with a slight grin. Just when Jake thinks you might be all talked out, you add, “And don’t even get me started on the environmental burden of growing enough avocados to sustain the whole of North America’s health culture.”

Jake blinks at you. “Trust me, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“The avocado trade is contributing to local violence and extortion” – you continue, but Jake cuts you off.

“Okay, okay!” he says. “I’ll never eat an avocado again.”

“Just quit spreading your avocado propaganda!”

“It’s not propaganda! They’re actually good for you!”

“How wonderful it must be living in a world where your needs come before everybody else’s,” you say bitterly.

“Can we please talk about something other than avocados?” he says tiredly, his eyes sliding to Bradley in a plea for assistance.

“If you’re looking for a topic on which I do not have an opinion” – you say, but Jake interrupts you again.

“Does such a topic exist?” he asks flatly.

You roll your eyes at him. “Did you ever think that maybe you’re the one who should talk less?”

Jake nods. “Certainly. I should talk less to you. Because you’re driving me crazy, lady.” He stands up after having downed the rest of his drink. “I’m getting another beer and, when I return, I’m going to have a conversation with my good friend here, Rooster.”

Bradley shakes his head and looks over at you. “Don’t mind him, he’s just a bitter, bitter man.”

“A bitter man who needs to be schooled on occasion,” you mutter.

Jake turns to look at you with wide eyes. He slides back into his seat. “I heard that,” he says dangerously, inclining into the table.

“Good,” you respond, leaning forward so that your noses are nearly touching. “You were meant to.”

“You are so fucking annoying,” he whispers, his eyes slipping momentarily to your mouth as you lick your lips.

“Hangman, come on, don’t be a dick,” Bradley says, also putting his weight into the table in an attempt to intervene.

Jake’s eyes are still scanning your face as you glare at him without moving away. The truth is, he could probably listen to you talk about the problematic export of Mexican avocados for hours just to watch your mouth move and to hear the passion in your voice. But he’s tired of the tunnel vision he experiences every time your boyfriend ditches you and you end up going out with your best friend, Bradley Bradshaw. This is the fifth time this month that you’ve accompanied Rooster to ‘guys’ night out’ and it’s becoming more and more difficult for Jake to shake you after each successive evening of relentless verbal sparring.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jake can see Bradley slowly inching off the table, having realized that he may be a third wheel. But Jake doesn’t need him to be some sort of wingman in this bizarre scenario where he may or may not be completely in love with an unavailable woman who happens to be an expert at pushing all his goddamn buttons. Normally, he would remedy this kind of matter with a good old romp in the hay but, considering the fact that you are in a relationship, this option is, unfortunately, off the table. Besides, he’s not entirely sure it wouldn’t have the opposite effect on him, anyway.

But, despite all the reasons for avoiding your pull, Jake can’t look away, not even for a second; not even to get another beer. He moves his face a millimeter closer to yours, just to see what would happen; not because your breath smells like Peach Schnapps and not because your eyes are absolutely destabilizing him. His nose is about a split second away from brushing yours when your phone buzzes on the table. You flinch, withdrawing immediately, leaving Jake to watch you try to frantically pick it up. You shoot him one last intimidating look before rising from the table.

“Hey, babe,” he hears you say as you walk away.

“What’s your deal, man?” Bradley says as Jake watches you step outside.

Jake shakes his head solemnly. “Doesn’t she have other friends to play with?” he asks. “Why’re you always babysitting her?”

Bradley fixes Jake with a knowing look. “Hangman,” he says with a suggestive squint to his eye. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Jake stares at Bradley. “Yeah,” he says. “I want to tell you that your bestie is a pain in the ass, Rooster.”

Bradley’s jaw hardens. “You’re way out of line.”

“Come on, I can’t be the only one who finds her absolutely infuriating. The girl never shuts up!”

Bradley narrows his eyes. “And you don’t, at all, find that sort of thing attractive?” he says sarcastically.

“Attractive? I find it immensely aggravating, actually.”

“So aggravating that you argue right back every time,” Bradley points out with a smirk. “Movies, books, social constructs. Last week, I heard you guys bickering about space waste. What do you even know about space?”

“What does she know about space?” Jake responds angrily, pointing toward the door with his entire arm.

Bradley leans back in his seat with a sigh. “I know that you don’t actually hate her, Jake,” he says. “You can stop pretending.”

“Who’s pretending?” Jake looks up at him aggressively.

Bradley purses his lips. “What if I told you that her boyfriend is a shithead?”

Jake’s jaw tightens but he continues to stare at Bradley coldly. “Why the fuck would I care?” he says.

Bradley returns his callous expression before looking away. “Been trying to get her out of that relationship for months.”

Jake lets out a sigh. “She’s a grown-ass woman, she can decide for herself if she wants to end it.”

Bradley nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Jake rises from his seat, his eyes unintentionally drifting up to check if you’re still outside. He sees you pacing back and forth through the big window of the bar. You look like you’re arguing. Big surprise. “Want another beer?” he asks Bradley.

“Please,” Bradley says.

Jake nods at the cocktail you’ve been drinking. “She going to have another one?”

Bradley shrugs. “Probably, unless you’ve pissed her off enough that she decides to leave early.”

Jake scoffs. “She’d be doing me a favor.”

Bradley shakes his head with a laugh. “I don’t even know what she’s drinking, man.”

Jake shifts his jaw. “I do.”

Bradley gives him another piercing look. “Shocking,” he says with a smirk.

“Shut the fuck up, Bradshaw,” Jake says under his breath as he walks away. He glances back at the window behind which you’re now waving your arm around aggressively and yelling into the phone. He tears his gaze away from you, frustrated with himself for even giving a damn.

For some reason, he feels a painful pang in his chest, like he’s jealous of whomever it is you’re tearing into. You’ve never gone off on him quite like that and he can’t help the resentment this fosters. He tries to suppress the impulse to go out after you and rip your stupid phone right out of your hand. That would surely reclaim at least a fraction of your attention. Then maybe he could do something unexpected; something that might persuade you to channel your passion in a more constructive way.

He orders three drinks and walks back to the table with the beers before going back for your cocktail. When he returns, he exhales sharply, giving Bradley a humorless look. “Why’s her boyfriend a shithead?” he says, feeling his hands forming into fists before Bradley even has a chance to respond.

But, right when Bradley’s about to speak, you walk back into the bar.

Read Part 2

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this piece! It's my first Hangman story, so let me know what you think!

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Feel free to let me know if you no longer wish to be on this list!

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artsybun · 7 months ago

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Day 1: Favorite Turtle

YEEHAW! DAY 1 OF TMayNT!! @tmaynt

Leonardo my beloved <3 I thought about drawing every iteration of Leo before my brain cell kicked back in and went, no that’s insane? So i settled for drawing each Leo from each tv series! Including the one that will be coming out on paramount at some point. Made two versions bc i couldn’t decide between doing this challenge in a more inktober style or just going ham, i eventually settled on doing both and seeing how quickly i get burnt out lmao. So we’ll see in the future if colored ones stay or not.

Wanna give a special thanks to the creator @mikasleaf of this challenges prompt list btw! This will be the first time I’ve ever participated in a 31 day challenge, but I’m really excited to! So thanks so much for making it!!!

Now for a little anecdote: I adore all the turtles, like genuinely love all of them, so picking a favorite is REALLY HARD. HOWEVER. One really funny thing about me that helped make the choice to draw Leo was the fact that as a child I watched the 03 tmnt show on 4kids. I didn’t really understand all the details with Leo’s character back then, but he was my absolute favorite. Not because of his swords, or the fact he was a good big brother, or a really talented ninja, no, none of that whatsoever. I loved him so much as a kid because of one reason—HE. WAS. BLUE! And blue was my favorite color, so obviously he had to be my favorite turtle. I still adore Leo with all my heart ofc, but now as an adult I horde ALL of the tmnt boys bc i love each of their characters for individual reasons, but this boy right here? He got me into the series all bc he was blue. Gotta love how child brains work lmao.

Oh yeah! I made a Twitter recently, I haven’t posted all my art just yet, but I planned on posting every challenge piece on there as I get used to it. So! I’d you’d like to follow me then feel free!

https://x.com/anartsybun/status/1785667946972393713?s=46&t=PKJxQI8vWUW6w1qZSe8wjw

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onlyseokmins · 7 months ago

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$$60 billion (part 1) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: eventual smut (minors dni!), trigun!au action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, death, gore, guns, injuries, destruction, mentions of knives, weapons, violence, creepy monsters and creatures, ptsd, moral ambiguities, dark topics tbh, smoking, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, platonic (but not really) nakedness, reader is operating on a short fuse bc I believe u have to be built different for this universe, their communication is abt to be as poor as the plant life 💀 Seungcheol kinda his own warning imho, biggest apology to chan, and we all love seok sm bc he sings abt total slaughter 🙇🏻‍♀️ WC: 19.5k of 32.7k | Part 2 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I feel like the boys may seem ooc but I had a lot of fun putting this together 😌 Thank you Summer and Isa for hosting this collab and your utmost patience in me finally writing my piece! I hope everyone enjoys this and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!!

Everyone wanted Lee Seokmin.

The cities' great militaries. Bounty hunters. Bandits on the roads. Criminals escaping death row. Prowling pirate gangs. His twin brother. You.

Though you reckoned your "want" for him was a bit… different from others. Well, at least you hope so, goddamn it.

You shiver.

At first, you wanted him just like the mass majority would one day as well — dead. The deed swiftly carried out with a silver pistol aimed at his temple.

Besides, your blood-thirst began before the destruction of July. Unlike most, who angrily shake their fists at the gaping crater on the fifth moon in the spirit of pure vengeance. Yes, the tragic incident of the great city that upped the bounty dangling over his head like a noose to a sixty billion double dollars reward. But Little Ivywood was the first of many places that would end up reduced to ruins after Lee Seokmin set foot there.

Wiped off the map. Wiped from history. Wiped from existence. But never forgotten. Especially not by the small town's only known survivor — you.

Your earliest memories contain little about the events that led up to being left on the doorstep of Little Ivywood's unofficial orphanage. How could they when you were just a baby? One swaddled in a ratty cloth weighted down by a rusted pistol. There was just one simple hint to your past — scribbled nearly illegible on a torn piece of paper dotted with blood — and could only be what the nuns had to assume was your name.

At least that's how Sister Meryl relayed the tale whenever asked, her hands clasped tightly together in praise and gratitude to the Saint that delivered you to them unharmed. The irony, considering Sister Lucia always looks like she'll faint just like the day she opened the convent's side door. It wasn't an easy sight to see or recall, the image of a wailing infant mouthing on the empty muzzle of a gun.

Neither versions of your origin story could be that far off thanks to the scar marring your left hand and the gun held tightly in your right. You've had both for as long as you can remember. And as you grew and changed, so did they.

The scar shrunk and faded through the years, seemingly forgotten amongst a myriad of other markings littered across your skin. Over time, the pistol's rusted parts were repaired or replaced and soon, its shine and character returned. Restored to its former glory while forging a new beginning ahead with a different owner.

But there were two things that stayed constant throughout your years at the orphanage. The first was your birth name. Not even the nuns, who generally loved bestowing scriptural monikers as if they were granting rich titles to unnamed orphans, tried to change yours. The second was a person who you still refuse to call by his baptismal name — Chan.

He helped you, became an assistant of sorts. Originally just some snot-nosed, beanpole of a fellow orphan you didn't really pay much attention to. A scared kid who cried way too loudly even after you'd even taken the time to demonstrate that the gun was safe after he'd been the one continuously pestering to see it. Very much to Sister Constance's chagrin, since it all went down in the middle of confessional time.

But curiosity eventually overturned the initial fear.

Lucky, because by acquiring bravery, Chan could discover his innate talent for gunsmithing. Lanky, noodle arms transformed into well-formed, sinewy muscles. The soft baby skin of his hands roughened with callouses as he whittled away near the convent's underground furnace. He'd spend hours down there, returning with sweat, grime, and charcoal smudged all over his skin after melting together the random metal objects found by digging beneath the basement's unfinished floor.

The Sisters disliked dirt and grime all over the children and tracked through the doors. But it was hard to keep clean out in the middle of a sandy desert. Complaints dwindled thanks to the fellow orphans who would stop their mischief to watch Chan work. And as time passed, his shoulders broadened further, his voice began to deepen, his dark hair grew longer, and those brown eyes started to sparkle with something different from simple, fleeting passion — it was a dream.

The excitable boy would tell you all about it under the stars. Late into the nights when you searched for what had to be remnants of Earthen materials from the Big Fall, he'd chatter on and on.

"Once we're actual adults," — free from the guardianship requirement provided from the orphanage — "we're gonna leave Lil Ivywood behind and explore the great wastelands of Gunsmoke!"

You snort at the ridiculousness of such an idea. "And how do you think we'll survive?"

"Easy-peasy, I'm gonna build a bunch of guns and we're gonna end up so rich. And famous!"

"Yeah, sure. Throw a couple double dollars at the worms, I'm sure they'll let us pass with no problem."

Not one to be deterred by your eternal sarcasm, Chan shakes his head."Nah, that's where you come in. Didn't think I'd let you freeload, right?"

He stands and stretches both of his arms straight out, the ones your roommate had started to gush over. Hands clasped together like Sister Meryl's always do before prayer time and then extending both pointer fingers into a mock handgun, out into the distant sand dunes one rarely dares to stray.

"You gotta be a sharpshooter to not let my hard work go to waste!"

You lazily take aim next to him, handling the freshly restored pistol with uncharacteristic gentleness. While it might officially be yours, it's also Chan's baby.

"Mm-hm, me and my killer skills."

And then you both dissolve into laughter.

It was such a pipe dream and yet; it didn't seem utterly impossible. There were little moments you let yourself imagine it, too — just until the suns peep their heads above the horizon. There was no way you could defend yourself — let alone another person — from the dangers of the desert or it would've been something you'd attempted years ago.

But when Chan spoke of his plans under the glow of the orbiting full moons, confidently mapping an adventure through an area he's never been to or seen before, and dreamed — he easily pulled you under his spell too. It was contagious, exciting, addicting, and most of all — it could really be… possible.

An armory of grade-A weapons. The bank account overflowing with double dollars. Endless boxes of bullets and the refined skills to shoot them; you were the force to be reckoned with and a protector of those who couldn't do it for themselves.

"Do you think… we could really succeed?" you ask one night, running a finger along the familiar engravings on your gun's grip panel.

Chan's grin was as shiny as the circular metal shell he was carving into. You refuse to look his way because of how infectious it could be. Plus, the main reason it was so stinking bright was due to this being the first time you verbally entertained his ideas.

"Oh-ho-ho, doubt my capabilities?"

"Obviously."

If offended — he was not — by the instant agreement, there was no sign of it. Instead, he focused back onto his handicraft, knowing you would eventually spill your true thoughts if he was patient.

There was no rush tonight after all. A star-filled expanse of black blanketed across the sky — one he hoped would never change to blue.

"More like… it's just going to be so risky!"

"And that's why you'll be the —"

"But I've never even held a gun before!" You spot Chan pointedly direct the corner of his gaze to where your hands rest, causing you to flinch them away from the weapon and wave around haphazardly as your cheeks heat. "I mean, like, to shoot! Sister Lucia always says it'd be too dangerous."

"Sister Lucia thinks water that doesn't flow directly out of the holy grail is dangerous."

"Technically, that's true."

"Oh god, she's got you thinkin' the same, too!"

"But she'd probably rather swear by the Saint than ever let me get any bullets…" The thought alone of the devout nun saying the Savior's name in vain makes both of you smirk but yours falls just as quick as it came. "And we're going to need those if we ever want to leave Little Ivywood."

"Well —"

"And I… I'd have to kill things! People, too. I don't know if I can do that, I —"

" — Think fast!"

It's his turn to interrupt, chipper voice ever optimistic as he tosses the finished trinket your way. Thankfully, your reflexes work fast enough to catch it nimbly in time. The oval is hot to the touch after hovering over searing flames and despite its small size, weighs down your right palm as you glance over its etchings.

Satisfied, Chan takes that as his cue to walk toward the nook that shields you from the roaring heat of the furnace. Squatting down so he's eye-level with your knees, he brushes back his tangled mess of hair with one hand and taps knowingly at the barrel of the pistol with the other.

"There's no reason to kill anyone or anything."

"But this can hurt people… I could hurt people."

"You've had this ever since you were a baby and never harmed anyone with it."

"It's… it's never been loaded or…"

"Doesn't need to be. If you smacked someone with it, they'd surely feel that hit." He snickers, tone bordering on the edge of cockiness. "I would know, considering the sturdy and valuable materials used for repairs."

You roll your eyes and mutter, "Show-off," but it lacks true malice behind it.

"And even so," Chan takes one of his hands and pats the back of your free one, unintentionally right over the spot where your scar lies. "You've hurt no one before. Not even me, who annoys you the most!"

"About time you finally realized how merciful I am."

He says your name in earnest, remaining uncharacteristically serious and lays your intertwined hands on top of the gun before squeezing tightly. "Both this and you don't have to kill a single thing or person — ever — if that's not what you want to do. You can aim for non-vital points, shoot up in the air… Bullets or no bullets, just the sight of a weapon alone can be enough of a deterrent for most."

Chewing hesitantly on your lower lip, you let his words sink in and he continues.

"The fact you're aware of the hundreds of risks when handling a weapon like this means you'll be even more cautious when using it. I trust you, so trust in yourself."

Warmth spreads from your interlocked hands and through your entire body like you're wrapped in another one of his sweet hugs, culminating into tears threatening to spill past your lash line. Chan believed in you and though you'd never admit it aloud, it meant the world to you.

"When did you grow up so much?" you tease, letting out an exhale you didn't realize was being held.

"Aw, c'mon! I've been taller than you for months now!"

"Keep dreamin' if it makes you feel better."

Though Chan sasses back by sticking his tongue out, he lets you ruffle his sweaty bangs despite receiving a slightly bruised forehead in return because you forget about the new gift in your hand. Plotting an escape, he stands and pulls you up with him, joined by your clasped hands.

"We should probably head back. Sister Constance's likely gonna ask us to check the Plant before morning mass and you don't want her to catch you dozing off again."

"Last I recall, you were the one she caught napping!"

"But you have the most demerits this week."

"And whose fault is that?!"

Quick as lightning, he nudges you with enough strength to catch you off guard and destabilize your balance. Then he tears away, calling over his shoulder, "Snooze and ya lose!"

"Ugh, this is exactly why — you never play fair!"

Regathering your bearings at record speed, you dash right after Chan. The boy's raucous laughter echoes in your own lungs and you swear the stars twinkle brighter in the nighttime sky. You overtake him right before reaching the convent's door — the same one you were left on — and clutch at his arm before he can reach past to open it.

"Hey… thanks."

He grins all goofy. Chan's well aware you mean much more than that, but he opts to flick your forehead rather than give you grief over it. "Yeah, yeah. I do so much for you, you know?"

"Mm-hm."

"So it's about time to finally pick a name I can carve onto that bad boy. If you don't, I'll put mine there." He nods to your gun excitedly, then points to the oval. "Oh, and I'll make a chain for that soon. Did you decide what you'll put inside?"

"Questions, questions, demands, demands." You wave him off and open the door with a yawn. "I'll think of one. And yeah, you know that Earthen gadget we found? Gonna cut out those papers and put them in there before sleeping."

Once while digging for materials, you had stumbled across a square object that wasn't completely destroyed, unlike many others. After a few experiments of messing with the random knobs and buttons, you determined it could mimic whatever was directly in front of the clear coated lenses. And later — much to your amusement and amazement — it printed out the image on thick, shiny squares.

Fascinating little things those Earthlings created!

You'd luckily put the last few sheets left in the machine to good use. Experimenting with the surrounding scenery that blurrily featured some of Ivywood's buildings, then one of Chan, and finally wrangled a frame that captured both of you together.

"Do you think you'll be able to stabilize it?"

Your tentative question makes him look toward the large, bulbous structure that houses the Plant. The power source Little Ivywood depended upon.

He sports a cheery grin. "Won't know 'til I've tried!"

"Ever considered too much confidence might be a bad thing?"

"If you're jealous, just say so. But with you by my side, there's nothing we can't accomplish together!" He bounces excitedly on his heels. "Besides, I forgot to mention…" Beckoning you with a hand to come closer, you lean in, curious. "I've become quite the master at bargaining. There won't be a single worm who'll refuse a double dollar from the great Chan!"

"What did you do?"

"What haven't I done?"

"You're the worst. Like to ever exist."

"The absolute best, you mean 'cause there'll be no reason for you to waste any bullets or fear cutting a single lifespan short!"

"Goodnight, Chan."

"You mean 'thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Chan!' but whatever! You can make it up to me tomorrow!"

But tomorrow never came.

Or rather — daybreak arrived in the unrecognizable form of rapid gunfire and screams of terror. The buildings rattled, trembled, and shook from the onslaught just like the people cowering in fear within them.

The dust stirred up in the chapel's hall after a wall unexpectedly collapsed causes you to cough. Amidst the chaos and panic, you spare a glance over your shoulder to see Sister Meryl, who strides confidently to the altar.

She stands with poise and purpose in front of the marbled stone. Steadfast and unwavering in strength because of her faith alone, even as the grand statue of the Saint starts crumbling down with the ceiling tiles falling around it.

It's a visual you're not likely to forget, carved deep into your memory before you flee with the rest. Sister Lucia is flustered as usual, ushering everyone as fast as she can near the grand oak doors that lead out to where additional shouting can be heard and only more pandemonium must await outside.

You're struck with the damning realization.

The gods — they have completely abandoned humankind.

"That would be ten demerits any other day," Sister Constance voice abruptly snaps, "fortunately for you, now is not the time for such things."

It's astonishing how even at this moment, the nun remains on high alert for 'troublemakers'. Her sharp-nailed fingers latch around your wrist as she breezes by — much too similar to when you've been dragged off to detention. And as if that's what's happening, your heels plant firmly in the ground and obstinately tug her back a step.

"What about Sister Meryl? We can't just leave!"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'll obediently obey me. But if you knew that, you'd recognize faithfulness will guide her and the rest of us to safety."

"Nothing guarantees —"

"Those who do not devote themselves truthfully will never understand. Should the Saint deem Sister Meryl's sacrifice to be in vain, then she has failed not only the Holy Bishop and our sacred bonds, but you — one she unnecessarily dotes on — as well."

You want to argue and protest as Sister Constance yanks you forward. But the faint tremors you feel despite the tight grip of her hand and the tensed jawline of the woman whose stoic face is normally unbreakable makes you pause.

She's shaken. She's unsure. She's wavering.

Sister Constance doubts.

And something about that thrills you. Terrifyingly so.

The shock of it all is as startling as the pale sunlight blinding your eyes when the chapel's heavy doors finally get thrown open. Grains of sand swirl through Little Ivywood, diluting the usual brightness of the glowing orbs in the sky and their powerful rays.

A sandstorm brews on the horizon.

That's the least of your worries, though. Blood stains the soil where shrapnel grazed tender flesh. Fellow orphans scream and cry out from their wounds as they struggle to get away from the captors attempting to drag them to the center of town.

With a chill, you alarmingly realize who they're trying to escape from. Women in black and white robes don a wild, crazed look on their faces. The ones who have raised and cared for parentless children throughout many years and tended to every need they could within their means.

The Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood.

Sister Constance turns and you jump. Both at the horrors of the present and a reminder of how many times a quick movement of hers led to the sharp pain of a switch or ruler tearing into skin. An eerie sound of laughter rings out and your blood runs cold, eyes darting left and right for the source.

And then through the dust particles, looms the sinister silhouette of a figure in a long trench coat flapping in the wind. Spiked hair sticks straight up, retaining its menacing style despite the powerful wind gusts and emphasizing an already impressive height. You gulp, swearing there's a flash of metal followed by a fanged smirk that glints dangerously as Sister Constance tugs you closer to the terrifying shadow beast shrouded by sand swirling in the air.

A declaration of your given name — stern and cold. "Know that your purpose is being fulfilled, that you are serving the great —"

And then comes a shout of your name, this time from someone desperate and panicked. You're yanked forward and then suddenly catapulted backward, grunting at the impact of your body slamming against someone else's.

"You need to go! You need to get out of here!"

"Chan?!"

He clings to you, shifting so his back is to the nun only a few paces past the corner he dashed around for safety and to stall for time. Throwing a cautious look over his shoulder before whispering urgently, "Go! And don't look back!"

"What about you?"

"Don't mind me." The smooth leather of a satchel presses against your palm. "Get movin'!"

"But —"

"Seriously," the boy shoves you forward with a not-so-gentle push. You gape at the audacity and he waves his hand, like he's shooing away a pesky flying worm. Rude. "Please! I'll be right behind you but —"

An eruption of nearby gunfire and a series of high-pitched shing!-like noises interrupt him. He glances again over his shoulder. You cautiously step forward and his head whips back to let out a hiss.

"Chan, what's —"

"Need to grab a few more things, see if any other idiots need help. Just… just get out of town, wait for me by the rocks if it'll make you feel better." He smiles, though it doesn't make those brown eyes of his sparkle like usual. "It'll… it'll all be okay."

You're uncertain and scared. But something about Chan's speaking powers have always made you believe in the impossible. So, you nod resolutely while taking the bag from him and warn, "Promise you'll be safe."

"You hate those kinds of things."

It's true. To you, promises were only made to be broken. And yet…

"… And somehow you've changed my mind before."

The bangs of carnage draw closer. Louder.

"Fine, just go. Please! And don't look back!"

Acquiescing to his pleas, you sprint toward where he pointed. Sitting like giant sentinels lays an outcrop of boulders bordering the western edge of Little Ivywood. The desert is only two paces away, expanding outward into a desolate plain filled with the undulating slopes of dunes. Picking a sizable rock to hide behind, you keep watch for Chan, cringing at the distant sound of gunshots still rapidly being fired.

What was that? What did you see? And what did you almost get dragged into?

What was going on?

Boom!

It's an ear-shattering noise that causes even the great stones around you to tremble from the explosion. A flare of light so bright leaves you no choice but to look away to protect your eyes, ducking behind the rocks as a shield.

When you recover after it dissipates to see what just happened — Little Ivywood is no more.

It's gone.

"No…"

The tiny town reduced to only rubble and ash. What once were rows of square buildings stacked on top of each other to divert the view of a relatively flat lay of the land are now parallel to its surroundings.

"No… no… no…"

Gone.

You don't think twice about running toward the wreckage. Chan is there. Chan has to be there!

"No!"

And most importantly, he has to be alright.

Broken piles of the shoddy architecture littering the landscape prevents you from traversing too far. Bile rises in your throat as you desperately scan for a sign — any sign — for Chan. For survivors. For anyone. Even the air is still, no longer rippling with irritable heat waves and heavy gusts of wind because the blast was strong enough to ward off nature itself and the incoming sandstorm.

For now.

And during the futile search, that's when you spot him. On his knees with his back to you, slouched over in the only clear space amidst the destruction. The tattered fabric of a cerise garment hangs off the man's broad shoulders and pools around his body like a puddle of blood. Reddish-brown bangs tinged with black hang limply as his chin curls further and further into his chest.

I don't understand, you vent to yourself after a couple ungraceful vaults and stumbling through the debris to get closer. This bastard got what he wanted, did what he wanted, and won! So, why is he acting like that? Who destroyed his town? His people?

Finally, you're a couple steps behind him. Thankful, at the very least, for whatever weird state this man is in because it grants you the opportunity to approach and press the cold steel of your pistol to the side of his temple.

"Don't. Move."

You hope it comes out as the threatening command you intend it to be. There's a tense beat of silence as you wait for his next move until you realize he's doing exactly what you demanded.

Then he chuckles. A choked out, watery sort of sound. Your hands start shaking even as they press the barrel harsher against his head.

"Go ahead and shoot."

"Answer me first." Your voice becomes as unsteady as the quakes in your body and you rasp out, "Why… why'd you do it?"

His head lifts and you flinch, but he takes no further action besides staring blankly ahead at the ruins. "I wish I could tell you but… I've been asking myself the same question."

"I — you…! You wreak hell and havoc upon a whole innocent town and… and you don't even know why?!"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" The man laughs again, without a shred of humor. A gloved hand reaches up to wrap around the weapon and you momentarily falter at the force of him leaning into it. The weight pushing it closer into his skull seems hard enough to leave a nasty imprint, as if that should be a main concern right now. "I'd simply like to know how I did it."

"I —"

"Not loaded," he sighs and drops his hand, twisting around to actually get a proper look at whoever was holding him at gunpoint.

You're taken aback by the intensity of death radiating in those dark brown irises that casually observe you through amber-colored, cracked lenses. Your arms fall down, dumbfounded at the stranger's unflinching behavior, the pistol bumping into your thigh. He lets out a "tsk" and then pulls something out of his pocket.

In his opposite palm, clad in a fingerless glove unlike the left, rests a conical golden object. Though you've never seen one in real life before, you think you know what it is. The shape matches the hollow outlines when Chan disassembled the chambers of your gun.

"A cartridge," he says and you blink. "A bullet," he clarifies upon noticing your confusion. Then the man smiles encouragingly. "Go on. Take it."

You're incredulous. "You're okay with handing that over to me?"

"It's what you want, right?" There's a wistful look on his face. "This place… it was your home."

"No," you're quick to refute, shocked at such an automatic response. Then admitting, "I don't even know what a home is."

Innocent town, my ass, is what you derisively admit inward and snort at yourself.

The convent itself was far from comforting. The other orphans with their bright grins when Saint Meryl sang lullabies on the nights you couldn't sleep — those were the kinds of things that made it bearable.

Guilt.

"I — I —"

It overwhelms your senses. Rattling up your entire nervous system and settling a cruel, cruel weight in your chest. You hunch over, chest heaving, and throat burning. There's a thump as your gun falls to the ground, its silvery sharp edges becoming distorted, warped, and blurred through a film of unshed tears in your widened eyes.

"Should've… It should've —"

"Hey, hey…"

"It should've been me!"

The man rises to his full height, brushing off his clothes before crouching down. A sturdy hand grips your shoulder and dutifully encourages your gasping upper body into an upright position. Gently, ever so fragile, he bops your forehead with his and you subconsciously lean against the unexpected support.

He's near enough to ground you to something solid. But distant enough for two strangers whose first meeting is one amidst a crumbling town's travesty. With his close presence comes the scent of gun smoke, though not as bitterly pungent and putrid as you recall from before. It's subtle and smokey, reminiscent of the fire that Chan once proudly stoked in his makeshift forge.

Your body shakes as the tears finally slip free.

"All lives are equally precious, one shouldn't be sacrificed for another."

"… How can… how can you say that so… easily?"

The death-come-over look in his eyes changes to something faraway. Like he's seeing something beyond the destruction surrounding both of you. Those amber lenses don't have to be cracked to draw attention to the fracturing despair radiating behind them.

Then, he shakes his head and shrugs. "Because you should live even when those dear to you are gone. This world is made of love and peace, after all."

Your crying abruptly pauses with the natural effort it takes to let out a scoff. Ignoring your utter scorn and disbelief, the man's gaze drifts to the pistol still on the ground. The tip of a steel-toed boot kicks it up into the air with a flourish, single-handedly catching it to inspect the weapon with practiced ease.

"Live because there's a reason you survived, even if you loathe every second of it. You'll feel like you don't deserve it. But persevere because you should. Because that's what they would've wanted and you keep them alive by living yourself. A burden? Maybe. Why spend such a cursed blessing only dwelling in regret when you can do so much more?"

He offers the gun back, its handle extended in your direction.

"If nothing else, live for yourself most importantly. Help show the world the love and peace it deserves. Even if it couldn't afford to gift it to you. That's what life is all about. The ticket to the future is always blank!" Pausing, he shrugs with a regret-filled smile on his face. "At least that's what I was taught… and what I think."

"… Awfully full of optimism for some dude who wiped out a full town and doesn't even know why."

"Name's Seokmin," he returns, now sporting a cheeky grin as you cautiously reach out for the pistol. Only to be outsmarted with a literal 'sleight-of-hand' and meeting the warmth of fingers and a gloved palm instead of the expectation of hard, cold, and familiar steel.

"Huh?"

"Lee Seokmin, to be precise! And it's a pleasure to meet 'cha! Erm, despite the… terrible circumstances." Seokmin jiggles the gun in front of you with his other hand, almost taunting you to reach for it again.

You don't.

"And what do you call this lovely lady?"

"Nothing."

"A shame. But not everyone cares to name things, 'specially if they don't hold any value." He finally tosses it back and you barely manage to catch it in time with a scowl.

"Just haven't decided."

"I see! Mine's Geranium."

"Oh, like… the flower?"

He visibly perks up at that even further, a radiant smile showcasing two pointy fangs. "You've heard of it?"

"Well," you scratch your cheek, "the, uh, sisters gave a girl that name because of her hair."

There's an uncomfortable pause as the dreadful realization you'll never see those brilliant ruby locks bounce because of her excitement again settles back into your stomach. You swallow, eyes roaming the stranger in front of you for a distraction.

"Um… you must really like the color… red."

Seokmin glances down at the tatters of his scarlet clothes and shrugs. "I guess. Though the one I saw was red, I've heard they come in different colors."

"You've seen a plant? Like a plant plant? A real one! You know — that grows out of the ground and transforms and all that? It doesn't, well…"

Vegetation was a rarely discussed concept. The only thing you knew came out of the poorly written history books in the dusty library's darkest corner. In the desert outskirts, you had a better chance of finding ancient Earth technology that might still be intact to share its plethora of knowledge about the old world humans left behind than hope to find whatever resources the big cities had access to.

"Mm, yeah, a long time ago. But say," he jovially waves the cartridge from before and it glints in the setting rays of the suns. "Would you care to hear this man's story before shooting him?"

And of course, you listened. What other choice did you have, you who lost everything at once? But even back then, something small and precious was planted in the barren depths of your heart. That was just the beginning. It would continue to grow, watered and tended to under the sunny smile of Lee Seokmin — the destroyer of cities and a very wanted man across the planet.

You leave that tiny bit out during the recitation of your past to the inquisitive pastor. Though something you'll regrettably find out later is he's already got you all figured out.

Bastard.

"… So, that's how I met the infamous Lee Seokmin and didn't end up killing him," you declare with a flourish and take a satisfied gulp of cheap beer picked up from some abandoned mart along the way out of Little Jersey.

Draining another bottle dry, you toss away the metal cap, close one eye, and peer through the narrow bottleneck like it's a telescope — albeit a very poor one.

Through the distorted glass stretch endless sand dunes as far as the eye can see. Stars glitter and sparkle amid the glow of the full moons in orbit, temporarily dimmed by a puff of the roguish's man's cigarette that wafts through the inky darkness.

You wonder if he'd be willing to share one.

"A shame," Seungcheol grumbles and offers a white stick from his pocket.

You take it eagerly only to see it's nothing but — a lollipop. The hard candy's become a strange gooey consistency thanks to melting in the desert heat all day and partially re-solidifying during the nighttime's chilly air.

It's stale too.

Fucker.

You let out a disdainful sniff but nod in agreement to his statement. "It is. But he promised me something. Then his bounty increased from a meager six million to sixty billion double dollars after destroying July, putting a hole in the moon, and all that. So… following him around has paid off."

"I guess," he shrugs, "guess I don't really care 'bout yer lil meet-cute story."

You gape at the audacity. "You're the one who fuckin' asked!"

"Well… figured we could bond, ya know? Orphans 'n all that cozy, feel-good shit."

"You know, not a single thing I've said thus far coud be classified as 'cute'."

"Uh-huh."

"And I never took you to be a sentimental fool."

"Hey, now —"

You hold up a hand. "'Thou shall not bear false witness'."

"As if ya even know what that means," Seungcheol retorts and flicks the ashy cigarette stub in your direction, the cross around his neck ironically reflecting in the moonlight. "Was gonna say, if anythin', I put the mental in sentimental, sweet'art."

Well, you certainly wouldn't argue with that point. "…What I do know is that you're doing this all. For him."

"'Ol Needle Noggin, eh?"

"Well… yeah. But he's only part of a bigger picture for you."

"… 'S none o' yer business, ya know? Best to know less."

Your eyes roll. "Sure. That's why you nearly got hit by our car 'cause you wore a suit into the desert and didn't bring a drop of water. All while hauling that stupid, big-ass cross around! And then you insist on joining us — try to scam us! — but hey," you put your hands up, "none of my business."

"Wasn't tryna scam —"

"Hella shady, man... Hella. fuckin'. shady." You're shocked you can see the man's eyes roll in a begrudging defeat behind his black sunglasses — at night, no less — but you nudge him. "C'mon, just tell me! I bet it has to do with Hopeland, something… or someone back at that orphanage."

"Anyone told ya how irritatin' ya are?"

"Only the ones that are equally just as annoying!"

"Tch, woman." Seungcheol messes up the back of his black hair, mouth opening as he cracks his jaw. There's a pregnant pause. "… 'Han was… he was different. Ya wouldn't get it."

"Try me. Evidently you weren't listening very well, were you?" No surprise there. You retrieve the locket that takes refuge beneath your top, a familiar oval swinging from its long chain between the two of you. "Believe it or not, I do get it."

His eyes fixate on it like a pendulum, darting to your face, and then up to the sky. A crooked smile quirks up the corner of his mouth and he lets out a resigned sigh. "Ya really love 'im, don'tcha?"

You feel a funny sensation.

Akin to getting caught in a horde of flying worms and trying to squash down as many as you can. Your answer is hushed and Seungcheol snickers. Unbeknownst to the two of you that an additional pair of ears — assumed to be asleep — also catches your whispered reply.

"So, how much ya gonna pay for confessin'?" the pastor goads and lets out a startled yelp when you try to smash the hand-held bank he totes around that's shaped like a cathedral.

"Oh, go to hell, Choi!"

"Stare any longer and you'll no longer be needin' Sirocco." An amused snicker follows the relaxed drawl. "Bullets're 'bout to start flyin' outta those eyes 'stead of that gun o' yers."

You scowl at the dumb man seated next to you. "It's not like subtlety has ever been a strong suit of yours. But could you at least pay better attention to your surroundings?" A meager amount of golden liquid sloshes against the sides of the glass you pointedly wave around. "Or are you already too drunk to forget where we are?"

"Ain't no lightweight," Seungcheol brags with his fourth pint of the night in hand and a rapacious grin cockily tilting the empty lollipop stick in the corner of his mouth upward. "Can't say the same for the rest, though. Whiskey's stronger than a punch to the gut."

"… You would know. I'm sure it might just taste like water to some by now."

While it might initially elate most visitors to order as many rounds of the only available beverage on the menu as possible, the reality of the situation was much more grim. As if he can read your mind, the man clad in black, gray, and muted silvers flippantly reminds you of why your so-called merry band of travelers are even here.

"Needle Noggin said 'e fixed the Plant up just fine 'n dandy, so here's hopin' we get some clean bathwater t'night."

At those words, your gaze instinctively shoots back to where it focused earlier. Seungcheol snorts and drains his glass with a satisfactory sigh before poking more fun at you.

"Gonna put a hole through his head at this point."

"Not like that's anything new."

"Yeah, but rather than constantly laserin' holes through his skull, ya should be tryna convince him to fill yers up, instead. 'N not referrin' to that empty space behind yer forehead."

"I know exactly what you mean, you perverted freak."

That cracks Seungcheol up. "'N here I was thinkin' ya was gonna end up a nun servin' the Eye of Joshua!"

By now, you're well-accustomed to the hedonistic ways of the man who still keeps a leather band with a cross on it strapped across his Adam's apple, sewn into the cuffs of his black suit, and carries the hulking shape of one on his weary shoulders.

Unfazed, you fire back, "If they even let someone like you into the blessed and holy ranks, then any whore off the streets would be welcome to join."

It's a series of light-hearted jabs you both take in stride. The truth is much darker and deeper, but tonight serves as a tiny snapshot away from the normal weariness of day-to-day survival in Gunsmoke. Right now, you celebrate alongside the residents of Tonim what peace could really look like in the future.

Except you're on edge.

For a reason that's silly compared to the usual adrenaline rush of tracking down Plants nearing red status and defending the area, all the while trying to prevent the inevitable destruction and chaos to follow. Still, it's why you beckon the bartender over for another refill as a positively "tickled-pink" Seungcheol not-so-silently judges.

"Now who's staring?"

"'Kay, but's not with unbridled lust and — " He's cut off by a sharp kick to the side of his shin delivered by one of your heavy combat boots. "And feelin's," gets wheezed out before the pastor falls silent at your nasty scowl paired with Wonwoo's timely arrival.

The saloon owner and de facto authority in town approaches the two of you cautiously. It's no secret who you are, who you're with. What you do and the things that follow when you do what you do. And yet what you've done has saved the town and given its people — especially the younger folk — something that some of them have never experienced before.

Hope.

And that seems to be good enough proof for Wonwoo. Rumors may just be rumors, after all. None of you are like the reports relayed in a tinny voice through the virtually enhanced radios that are non-plant-powered — aka illustriously dubbed by their inventor as VERnons.

"… the Bloody Rain… follows… Lee… Humanoid Typhoon… armed… dangerous. Punisher… cross… machine gun… two unknown… likely… agents…. Bernardelli Insurance…"

The VERnon sitting behind the counter splutters out bits and pieces of information. He side-eyes the device awkwardly and starts fumbling with the buttons, trying to mumble over the static and monotonous voice.

"Can I pour you another drink?"

"Sure," you chuckle, pleased.

The bartender's well-intentioned efforts are fruitless which is to be expected. Only the creator, and those he personally taught, could truly modify the invention as pleased. A part of you hoped to find evidence Hansol had traveled this far but alas, he was probably still searching through the seven major cities for his beloved Milly before attempting to wander through the treacherous wastelands.

A brown, short-haired darling sneaks awe-filled glances at the two of you from the corner where a group of women around your age gather to chat. Seungcheol's the first to catch onto the admiring starry-eyed gaze and winks. Chuckling when a pudgy hand clings tighter to one of the lady's long skirt, using the fabric as a demure little shield against his effortless charisma.

You catch the tail-end of the interaction with the ghost of a smile. If there's one thing that can definitely soften Seungcheol's rough edges, it's children. You can't blame him, reminded of cheery voices and energetic footsteps pounding after your own through the convent's hallways.

The attractive woman wonders what's drawing the younger girl's attention and leans down to whisper in her ear. Gesturing in your direction, you watch as she nods encouragingly and offers a gentle smile, pushing the tiny brunette forward who readily toddles over. The gaps still waiting for pearly white teeth to grow in that shy smile on the little girl's face are endearingly winsome.

"'Lo, Wonu."

The bespectacled man starts, eyes wide as he peers over the counter and just manages to glimpse the top of her mousy brown tufts. "Is that you, Lina? You're not supposed to be here."

"Past yer bedtime, lil one?"

She huffs indignantly at the two men, hands on her hips. "I've once stayed up 'til four in the morning, mister!"

"Oh, Lina…"

"Besides, how can anyone of good standing sleep properly when there's heroes in town?"

"Huh, what a darlin' angel!"

You scoff at your comrade's words. "As if you've ever seen one."

"I do beg your pardon," Wonwoo scrambles to excuse the child's enthusiasm. "Looks like another talk is due with, uh, Sheryl."

"You're just jealous, Wonu. Sherry says they're heroes."

A chubby finger points at you and Seungcheol and the bartender clicks his tongue — partially in reproach and the other half out of embarrassment. The two of you hardly pay any attention to his reaction, seeming to not mind her boldness at all.

"That's right, sweet'art. And don'tchu forget now." In fact, a certain cross-wearing man revels in it. He rummages deep in his pocket and pulls out a lollipop with a flourish. "'N here's a lil magic gift for ya, princess."

You're one step faster, snatching it and unwrapping the candy with a quick inspection. At least it looks fresh and clean. Seungcheol snorts. Ignoring him, you crouch down and hand it to Lina with a gentle smile.

"Remember to be careful with what you take from strangers."

"I know! But you're heroes… and heroes are always good people! You would never hurt me!" Those blue-green eyes are certainly dazzling as she stares into yours, reminiscent of the clean water now filling the town's reservoir. "You're very pretty."

"That might be the highest compliment I've ever received."

"Pretty people don't hurt anyone either! Sherry's super pretty and she's the gentlest I know!"

A very pretty pastor himself snickers for multiple reasons. Meanwhile, Wonwoo laments with a tired sigh, "Dunno what that crazy woman's been teaching her, I swear…"

"You're not supposed to talk about people you like like that, Wonu!" Lina gives them both the stink eye but returns her attention to focus solely on you — Tonim's loveliest savior in her teal-eyed view. "Will I grow up to be as pretty as you?"

Ah, how your heart aches.

"Even prettier."

"I…" She gnaws on her lip, as if it does anything to hide how much her pleased grin glows. "I wanna be a hero, too!"

"Don't see why you wouldn't become one." To you, she already is — in all her innocent radiance and glory.

"Gotta grow big 'n strong first, missy."

"I am strong!"

"Don't doubt it. But wait 'til yer at least twice my age 'fore ya go swingin' at thugs."

She wrinkles her nose. "I'll be in the grave like Grammy if I wait that long, old man!"

Seungcheol guffaws at her unexpected remark and you hear the bartender beg, "Lina, please!" But you focus on all the brilliance in front of you — from precious unkempt locks to blue eyes full of fire and finally to the worn out, dust-covered shoes.

"Hopefully you'll never need a reason to be the hero, though. It's our duty to keep that from happening."

There's too much hidden meaning and brutal experience in your words for her to fully understand. The lull gives a certain pastor an opportunity to sidle back into the conversation, ready to get up to no good as always.

"Ya wanna meet the hero of all heroes, darlin'?"

"Choi —"

"Yeah!" Lina claps ecstatically.

"Go 'head 'n give 'er yer second key," he coaxes quietly with a shit-eating smirk.

"I swear!"

"C'mon… never like keepin' such a sweet gal waitin'!"

After a minute's hesitation, you begrudgingly agree and take it out.

"Thank ya. Now, got a lil mission for ya, Miss Hero-in-the-Makin'."

"Really?!"

Barely able to conceal her exuberance, she reverently takes the key like it's actual gold and not simply plated. Seungcheol ruffles her hair affectionately.

"Y'see the man in all purple?"

"Mhm, yeah! The one that looks like the night sky?"

"Yeah, give 'im it. Make sure to say it's from this pretty lady."

"Choi!"

"Talk to 'im too 'cause he'll love that. He's a real hero, y'know? Truest of 'em all."

"Yes, sir!"

"Attagirl."

Lina scurries off and you turn back to the counter with a sour glare directed at Seungcheol. "What was that all about?"

"Dunno, cute?"

"I'm really sorry about that all," Wonwoo apologetically interrupts with the offer of another refill which is readily accepted. "She… she's very excitable."

"No need for apologizin', man."

"Yeah, she's adorable. Is she yours?"

The bespectacled bartender stutters, almost dropping the glass he's handing to you. "That's, uh, that's my sister!"

"Ah, makes sense! Didn't mean to assume."

He flushes and turns away. But not without mumbling something about it being okay and your comrade groans.

"Reminder — ya get too drunk, 'm not dealin' with ya ass."

"Great, I don't want you near my ass."

"'S not what I meant!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Seungcheol downs another shot and you're quick to follow his lead once Wonwoo hands over another refill per your shared request. However, this time, the stoic man surprisingly lingers and awkwardly fiddles with his wire-rimmed frames, doing his very best to not let his eyes wander your scantily clad figure as your head tilts back to swallow the burning alcohol.

Meanwhile, the pastor's grin turns wolfish.

"So, uh, who are you, really?"

"Curious, eh?" You lean comfortably onto the counter, braced by your forearms and an alluring smile on your face for the handsome saloon owner. His gaze drifts down to your scar-covered hands which also happen to be placed conveniently underneath your breasts.

You'd once said the best disguise and toughest armor was none at all. And why not flaunt your assets — literally — and put them to good use. The desert is hot anyways!

Seungcheol and Seungkwan both called bullshit. Mingyu applauded you and waved his "I respect women's rights, wrongs, and all the above no matter what!" flag. Seokmin — already used to your behavior and attire — had nothing else to say other than his normal quips of, "As long as you're comfortable".

"Well, a-a beautiful woman like yourself has to have everyone wondering."

And you laughed in the face of your haters every time it worked.

"Just a bounty hunter."

Wonwoo nods at the casual answer, recalling the holster strapped around the plush of your thigh beneath short denim shorts. "Where from?"

"Well… around. My hometown was destroyed so…"

"Oh? Same here."

"Ah, camaraderie." You jab a thumb menacingly in the direction of the purple-cloaked figure and the life of tonight's celebration, currently animatedly chattering to Lina. "That's why I'm turning him in."

"He's…?"

"Yup, Lee Seokmin. Yes," you confirm with a smirk at the way Wonwoo's eyes bug out behind his glasses, "that one — the infamous humanoid typhoon. Don't worry, he won't hurt anything or anyone here."

"He's… uh, he's not quite what I expected."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"You must be pretty badass to reign him in. Heard he's giving what's left of the July regime officers a run for their double dollars."

"For sure. But it's thanks to the other two drunkards, really. Believe it or not, they're Bernardelli insurance agents. Raven-haired one's Seungkwan and the tall one is Mingyu. They're helping to monitor that whopping bounty of mine and prevent any more disasters from happening. Heard I might get a bump in value if I bring him in alive."

"Oh, well, it looks like it's working. And he seems… willing? To come with you?"

"The irony. Always been quite blasé about facing his doom."

"He's really a Plant engineer, too?"

"Of sorts," you huff at his visible confusion but wave your empty glass. "Can I get another?"

He's more than happy to accommodate and returns with two, sliding one over to Seungcheol with a cautious look at the person who seems the closest to you. "And this is…?"

"Pastor. Pleased to meet'cha."

"Oh! Really?"

"A surprising addition to the mix, yeah. But everyone needs to, like, pray sometimes." And under your breath, low enough so only a certain man can hear, "no matter how sketchy they are."

"Do you, hm, officiate weddings?"

The one in question quirks a thick eyebrow. "Ya lookin' to get hitched, boy?"

"M-maybe."

And Seungcheol feels wholly compelled to bless him silently from the bottom of his blackened heart with full sincerity, seeing as how the bespectacled man timidly peeks your way before his gaze darts elsewhere. "Sorry lad, charge 'bout a thousand double dollars minimum."

While the solitary bartender crashes back into the sad reality of capitalism, you jab your elbow into the pastor's ribcage. "Fuckin' scammer."

"Only the best of the best! Ya know, sixty billion's still on the table — 'n it better be callin' my name."

"No one even has sixty billion double dollars!"

"We have 'im." And he points back to where hoots and hollers erupt from the center table of the saloon.

Lina's returned to the woman she was with earlier — presumably her beloved Sherry — but that doesn't mean Seokmin's alone. There's so much disdain in your side-eye, spotting the busty violet-haired sweetheart his arm wraps around. After all, he's the worst kind of ladykiller.

And by that, you mean he absolutely sucks at flirting and can't get or keep a partner to save his life. Yet you're constantly stuck witnessing women, men, and attractive people of all kinds throw themselves at the good-looking man until he opens his mouth and they're put off by his clear lack of suaveness or strange little idiosyncrasies.

"Stop with the stupid bet, it's not happening. Nobody's going to be winning a thing."

"It's called usin' the damn 'magination, darlin'!"

"Which means you need to get better hobbies. You've corrupted my friends!"

"Hah! Them fools were already too invested in this 'fore I ever came along."

"Fill me up again?"

Intent on ignoring Seungcheol, you belatedly realize how aggressive your request comes across. You're also eager for something to help soothe ache in your chest. It comes and goes like a bad toothache — manageable enough to forget about the pain until it returns tenfold.

Thankfully, Wonwoo meekly complies with the back tips of his ears tinged red and Seungcheol barely manages to hide his extreme amount of mirth for the situation behind another glass. In the dim lighting, at certain angles, and with another shot of whiskey settling into your system, you conclude that the handsome saloon owner could certainly pass as Seokmin's brother and vice versa.

But you know the truth.

Familiar with the one who's all too identical to the infamous gunslinger, yet entirely different altogether. Irritation flares in your gut, prickling harsh enough that even the burn of alcohol fails to drown it out.

"I'm turning in for the night."

"Smartin' idea."

"Don't get too smashed."

"You should get smashed."

"Bye, Choi."

Tipsiness is a great excuse to bump purposely into him as you get off the stool. It's only thanks to his genetically enhanced metabolism that the pastor's able to stay upright. He grumbles something that's likely insulting, but standing upright causes you to realize you drank way too much. Everything spins or sways, including your body as you stumble up the stairs.

Somehow, you safely make it to the second level. Above the saloon is a hallway of small bedrooms that Wonwoo generously loans out to routine drunkards or stray travelers. It takes a few minutes of fumbling around but you finally find the lock that matches the first of its paired key and tumble face-first into (thankfully clean) bedsheets.

A hazy mix of drifting in and out of consciousness follows. It's not until the door clicks and there's an ominous creak of floorboards followed by a noticeable presence creeping up at your side that fully rouses you from the feverish dreams of gunfire, explosions, and loss that still plague your mind to this day.

You roll over, intending to assume both an offensive and defensive position against the nighttime visitor, but a hand lands on your shoulder before you can. Still sluggish, there's no way you could ever hope to outmatch the humanoid typhoon, even at your best.

"Hey, you."

It takes a bit for your eyes to adjust to the darkness after hearing his voice — and then there he is. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Seokmin greets you with a fond, megawatt grin. The thumb of his cybernetic prosthesis gently traces little circles over your bare skin. There's a faint hum and glow from its advanced tech mechanics, paired with moonbeams from the window, casting off an ethereal radiance.

"So, you're staying here tonight?"

"But of course, isn't that why you sent such a cute little cherub my way?"

Ah, Lina. You unwittingly smile, remembering how joyful she was to accomplish her mission.

Then your eyes close, nose wrinkling at the copious stench of mixed perfumes and alcohol he brought in and refusing to acknowledge what he says.

"You hella reek."

"Says the one who drank over seven shots."

"… That preacher's a fuckin' tattler. And a liar. And a total scammer. Don't fall for him, Seok."

"Now, what makes you think Seungcheol told me, hm?" He leans down almost nose-to-nose, enough to make yours scrunch even more at the buzzing feeling of how near he is. Your eyes open to squint at him and he winks. "Silly boy tried to mess with god again and max out his intake. Spoiler alert, he failed. Mingyu dragged him back to his room."

"You're the only one I know who can call Choi a 'silly boy'."

"'Cause that's what he is."

"And you need to stop acting like my babysitter!"

You shift away from his gorgeous face and he leans back to give you space, sporting a smug grin. "Then who would take care of you, mayfly?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Be nice to me and maybe I won't keep count on how many glasses you down next time," he teases. "But since I'm so kind and forgiving, would you like a nice, warm, relaxing bath?"

Well, it did sound wonderful. TMI, but cleanliness was a luxury when traveling the desert. Even more so when the places you arrived at had Plant issues. Luckily, Seokmin was more than capable of fixing them but even then, circumstances varied. Especially around the one known across Gunsmoke as mankind's first localized human disaster.

"Only if you get one, too."

It slips from your mouth without a thought. But you might as well have told Seokmin you'd gotten him a box full of doughnuts with how delightedly he clasps his hands together.

"As you wish, m'lady!"

And he treats you like one, scooping you up into his arms in a princess-style carry. At least tonight you're more willing to let him do as he wishes, especially when he discards the perfume-infused outerwear. Whiskey, sleepiness, and the smooth material of his undershirt keep you pliant and cuddly well after he'd snatched you off the bed.

Seokmin's already ten times stronger than even a human like Mingyu and his prosthesis only helps take further advantage of that fact. He easily deposits you on the edge of the tub. Normal routine would require untying the tight laces on your combat boots but since you'd kicked them off prior to resting, he skips to the next step.

Deft fingers make quick work unbuttoning your shorts, the prosthetic digits of his left hand then moving to loosen the straps that keep your top on. His other hand holds them together in a pseudo-knot to keep the material in place.

Honoring a sense of modesty, you suppose — even though you've seen each other unclothed before. But you melt into the secure press of his palm paired with the support of his chest against your back as he leans over to turn on the water.

"Let me know if it's a good temperature."

"M'kay."

"You're so agreeable when drunk!"

"And you're still just as annoying."

"Okay, okay," he relents. Amicably even.

Seokmin never enjoys butting heads like Seungcheol constantly does. Although another "mayfly," gets tacked on to the end of his playful yield in a mischievous tone because if there is one thing, it's that he can never tease you enough.

Brown eyes quietly trace the ink and scars that mark your skin, some disappearing or completely hidden beneath the parts that are covered. Finally, they land on the silver chain around your neck, only a breadth away from the tip of his fingers that suddenly twitch at how soft you feel beneath the calloused roughness of his own skin.

You let out a little sigh and it shakes him from his reverie, noticing the tub's filled up past your calves. Guiding one of your hands to where the locket lies beneath your clothes covering your chest, he stands. "Call me if you need anything or just want help getting out, m'lady."

"'Kay."

You're already stripping bare but Seokmin breezes out the door before you can blink. You sigh again and slip into the hot water, enjoying a soak to ease the heaviness you feel.

It's hard to understand this emotional turmoil. Knowing that you don't enjoy feeling this way, you make a false promise to not drink ever again, staying submerged in the water until your fingers wrinkle.

Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you didn't. There's a bathrobe laid on the sink when you're ready to get out that you don't remember from before but who knows. Who cares? It's cozy and you haven't felt this clean in a while.

"All yours," you lazily declare, stepping into the bedroom.

Seokmin perks up from where he casually sits cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with Geranium. A dopey smile lights up his face, gaze moving from the hefty nickel revolver and zoning in on you.

"All mine?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he repeats quieter, more to himself, "all mine…" But when you unconsciously shiver, his eyes flash and brows furrow. "C'mere, I warmed the bed up for you."

"Aren't you going to bathe?"

"Yep, so don't miss me too much, my dear mayfly!"

He accompanies it with a saucy wink and saunters into the bathroom, humming. You find yourself in a bit of a daze, head and cheeks holding onto the heat of the steam from your bath (and more). You change into a light tank and cotton shorts before sitting back down. As promised, where Seokmin rested was indeed warm and smells of faint gun smoke that always brings back memories.

"Total slaughter…!"

Splash!

"… Total slaughter…"

Splash!

"I won't leave… a single man alive."

Splash! Splash!

"La de da de dai~," echoes from the bathroom. "Genocide…"

Splash.

"La de da de duh," splash, splash, splash, "an ocean… of blood."

"Let's begin… the killing time."

Seokmin possessed a lovely melodic voice no matter how nonsensical or gruesome the words he sang. Your eyes close with relaxation as he continues into a different tune. Though the lyrics are definitely more hopeful this time, there's a heavy sense of underlying desolation despite the rapid, upbeat tone.

"So…" splash, "on the first evening," splash, "a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon the dreaming world…"

You think back to how he silently cried when he thought no one was looking after a young stowaway on the sandsteamer broke into the same nostalgic song. Your heart aches in empathy for the woman whose heroic sacrifice saved humankind but left behind irreparable damage to twins she adored.

Rem Saverem.

She was to Seokmin as what Saint Meryl was to you. But your fondness for the nun who dared to favor one random orphan above the other equally ordinary ones with an unprecedented amount of kindness paled in comparison to the devotion Seokmin exhibited for Rem. Her kindness, hope, and love for and of life didn't simply become Seokmin's philosophies — they were a true part of every fiber, woven into his very being.

He was peculiar. Hardheaded — or in Seungkwan's affectionate term: a hardass — when it came to nonviolence. A true pacifist. Even when enemies held him at gunpoint, allies turned their backs on him, and his choice to always save was at the very cost of his well being… Seokmin would choose to tear himself apart limb by limb before ever causing damage or letting harm come to another.

And even if he always chose the world and those living in it first before anything else, that's what you loved the most about him.

"What's got you making that face?"

You're quick to school whatever expression it might be. Your tongue feels fuzzy. You purse your lips as he lumbers closer, freshly dressed in a comfy white long-sleeved shirt and black sweats.

"What face?"

"You know, the one where something's weighing on your mind."

The bed frame dips and squeaks when he flops down to snuggle against you. Still-damp, reddish-brown bangs lay across your shoulder and dampen your skin. The chilled press of the gold hoop in his left earlobe raises bumps wherever it touches as he endearingly nuzzles you.

"There is."

"Tell me."

"You need to dry your hair properly."

"Do it for me."

"… This is on purpose, isn't it?"

Nevertheless, you take the unused towel around his neck and vigorously rub at his head. No complaints or protests defending his honor come from Seokmin. Just the usual little trills of contentment escape as he leans into your touch. Once you're satisfied the job's done well, he plucks the towel from your hands and you fix him with a stern look.

"Well, Seok? You gonna answer me?"

He curls in on his lanky frame, enough so to find room to plop his head pitifully onto your thighs and nuzzle the bare skin with his nose. "Not if you won't answer me first."

"You."

"Hm?"

"Was… thinking about you."

"Oh, really? Dreaming about how cool, dashing, handsome, and awesome I am?"

"… Yeah. I like you."

He chuckles, closing his eyes. More so at the feeling of your fingers idly playing with his strands of hair than seriously taking what you say. "I like you, too!"

"No, I mean," you jostle him harshly as you shift anxiously, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "Something's wrong with me."

"… Mhm yeah, you've been drinking."

"Goddamnit, Seok… that was like hours ago! But… what if… what if I'm in love with you?"

Your fingers retract like you've been caught red-handed stealing Mingyu's pudding and a millisecond later, Seokmin's head flies off your lap as he sits up to stare incredulously at you and can only gasp out one word, "What?"

It comes out more like a statement than a question. You've seen all kinds of emotions appear in those clear brown eyes of his. Emptiness. Excitement. Happiness. Fear. Loneliness. Mysteriousness. Pain. But now, you can hardly make sense of what turmoil is swimming in those murky depths.

"There's no way," he shakes his head — laughter high and brittle. "Fake", is what Seungcheol occasionally points out whenever he spies the gunslinger's smile. You've never believed him until now. "You're drunk."

Seokmin's been hurt before and you know that. It's why you wish for him to be nothing but happy, that there's some truth to the joy he constantly tries to radiate. Hoping some parts are really healing, that he's giving time to let the bloody wounds coagulate — if even just a little.

"It's me. I mean, I'm the one that's drunk," he reiterates, shaking his head.

"Why are you acting like that?"

"… Like what?"

Perhaps you were too hopeful.

"Like I'm making some sort of mistake. Like I'm wrong about this. About us."

And still under the influence of the too-damn-strong alcohol.

"It's… none of that, it's just…"

"You think I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, do you?" he fires back rather harshly, "'cause you're still wearing that thing and —"

You wince as his voice breaks off, palm instinctively flying to where the locket rests. "What the hell does that have to do with anything right now? I thought we were over this! Years ago!"

"Maybe you were since you continue to stubbornly follow me everywhere!"

"I'm not the only one!"

"Yeah, 'cause no one ever listens to me!"

"I always listen to you, Seok. Even if the words that come out of your mouth don't match how you actually feel —"

"You don't know how I feel!"

Silence.

Seokmin's chest heaves, wide eyes taking in how you immediately freeze. That look, oh, that look on your face could kill him and his body moves on auto-pilot to stand, directing his gaze to stare daggers into the floorboards. Begging them to rip off like a bandaid and shield him from your wrath.

The wood beneath his feet groans, shaking ever the slightest.

"You're right. How dare I?"

"Wait, mayfly… I —" he switches gears with a plea of your given name.

"And obviously, you have no fuckin' idea how I feel." Now it's your turn to let out a disingenuous chuckle, fake humor cracking under the pressure of sadness it's struggling to mask. "You think all I'm after is revenge more than the actual thought even crosses my mind. You put on this show that nothing bothers you, make assumptions that no one can keep up with you, that you can do it all on your own."

"No, that's not… that's not what I meant! You know how dangerous —"

You stumble ungracefully off the bed, flinching away when Seokmin's words break off as he automatically reaches out. For you. To support and for support.

Yet, it hurts all the more.

"But what do I even know? How can I, when you keep everyone at arm's length? It's like… it's like I don't even know who you are! Like you're someone else, someone I'll never get to understand…"

To others, it might not make sense, possibly the dumbest thing you could say — especially with the state you're in. But you know Seokmin, a fact he's subconsciously taken comfort in.

But you also know Seokmin. Which means you know the exact place to hit him where it hurts the most.

And suddenly, those words you say propel him back into a moment from the past, body free-falling in the sky.

Yelling. Crying. Screaming. Pleading.

Begging that exact phrase and being demanded of the same accusation. All from the one who's falling with him. Whose face mirrors his own, but couldn't be more different in that crucial and devastating moment.

His brother. His twin. His other half who was once his everything — now a total stranger from the person he thought he knew.

A fifty-year-old reunion that should've been a reconciliation, turned into a doomsday.

And for you, the once simple toothache pain is now overwhelming your full body and you refuse to let him see how it's dampened your cheeks. Especially when you hear the pained whisper of the name that escapes his mouth when you're the one that triggered those awful memories. Staggering to the door, you yank it open and he instinctually takes a step forward.

Don't leave me.

You hear the unspoken plea as clearly as if spoken aloud.

"Don't follow me," is what you hiss out instead, and just like when you first met, Seokmin obeys.

When Seungkwan makes room arrangements — if there is enough money to spare when needed and the options are available — he books everyone their own private space. More often than not though, he and Mingyu share a room and so do you and Seokmin.

Out of everyone in the group, you're the only one who is used to putting up with Seokmin's idiosyncrasies and the constant white noise of the cybernetic prosthetics's technology. You've rarely paid mind to having your own space unless Seokmin gets in one of those rare 150-year-old moods and wants some time by himself. Rare in nature, because he doesn't enjoy being left alone with his thoughts that threaten to consume him.

But he'll have to make due tonight. For the first time, you're extremely grateful for Seungkwan's pro-activeness.

You lock the door, crawl into a fresh cold bed, and wet a new pillow — one that lacks the comforting scent of gun smoke — with unshed tears.

For all his short-tempered and sassy mannerisms, Seungkwan is quite the worrywart. When the suns have peeked past the horizon and you're not already downstairs bullying Seungcheol, he's immediately knocking at your door and inquiring about your well-being. You assure him you're just hungover and he reluctantly leaves you be, likely picking up on how terrible you really do sound.

By high noon, Mingyu raps on the door next. He even sweetly offers to share his prized pudding in the hopes that you'll peek your head out. Though you appreciate it, you send him away, too — after reassuring the sensitive man you'll feel better after some rest.

Seungcheol doesn't miss the chance to be annoying times ten. He doesn't indulge in the effort of knocking, opting to make the floorboards squeal by pacing back and forth in front of the door. All the while, muttering this and that about "yer boy's like a pathetic dog and blah, blah, blah" until getting very kindly told to "fuck off!" and dragged back downstairs by a certain raven-haired insurance agent.

Even Seokmin checks in. Four times.

Once and then twice after you'd left and he'd figured out which room was yours. Then two more visits throughout the following day. He doesn't exactly make his presence known — but you know he knows you know he's out there.

If not by the distinct gait you've picked up on listening for after all this time, then by the hesitant thuds of combat boots lingering outside your door. Lost technology whirring with the action it takes to make a fist with his left hand, raising it up to the door and then back down again in self-inflicted defeat.

You refuse to see anyone, choosing to pity yourself first. Wallowing in your feelings and then sleeping as much of the heartache — and more so the hangover — away.

When the moons are visible in accordance to their nightly orbit, you get up to fuss with the mini VERnon in the room's corner. Nothing but static greets you. At the very least, the white noise is better than complete silence. By the time it's morning, you slowly awaken to the virtually enhanced radio trying to catch onto a faint signal. Enough to report the latest news in snippets with its mechanical voice.

"Beast… reported… Tonim town… !"

Your eyes fly open. Now is not the time to be wasting away. Donning a clean set of attire similar to what you wore into town — and with Sirocco strapped comfortingly to your thigh — you descend downstairs.

"Good morning!" Mingyu cheerfully greets with a delighted shout of your name and eagerly waves you over to sit next to him, waving around a promised cup of pudding. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, thanks. Sorry about that, whiskey here sure is strong."

"'S one helluva killer," Seungcheol sulks across from you, still sporting a massive headache and looking worse than that one time Seungkwan hit him with the car.

"You're just weak."

"Wha'zat say 'bout you?"

"Since I can equally acknowledge both my strengths and weaknesses, that makes me infinitely stronger than you'll ever be."

Seungkwan wordlessly hands you a bowl and you graciously accept it. Next to the pastor sits Seokmin, unnaturally quiet. You don't even spare him a glance even though brown eyes burn into the side of your face until you glare his way.

The stack of doughnuts on the plate in front of him remain untouched — minus the smudged icing on one that was likely from Seungcheol trying to swipe it. Evidently, Seokmin was in low spirits if he didn't want to consume his favorite desserts. But, he is still prideful enough to prevent anyone else from snatching the prized delicacy.

How typical.

An awkwardness ensues, charged with an underlying current of tension. A vein forms in Seungkwan's forehead from his blood pressure rising.

Its pulse matches the twitch in the corner of his fake smile as he attempts to make conversation, to which Mingyu — oblivious and happy-go-lucky as ever, bless his heart — replies enthusiastically. Seungcheol stares listlessly into space, twirling a lollipop around and around with his tongue. Next to him is a soul acting like a thunderstorm's personally pouring over him. Seokmin starts pitifully poking at his grand doughnut pile while you ferociously tear into a piece of bread like it's the last supper before swallowing.

"Soonyoung's coming."

Your unexpected, but welcomed, interruption ironically pauses Seungkwan's second diatribe about Hansol's calamitous ingenuity. If possible, the apprehension in the room intensifies tenfold.

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. "How'd you hear?"

"Tuned the VERnon last night."

"'Course you did."

"Something about the Beast and Tonim came through. Not for sure but…"

"It never hurts to be too prepared!"

"True, 'Gyu. 'N if Soonyoungie's gonna be there, ya know what that likely means…"

You nod in understanding at Seungcheol's implication. "The Crimsonnail."

Seokmin's jaw clenches at the name but it's the disgruntled pastor who continues speaking after a hearty and loud gulp of water. "'Course the Eye of Joshua's gonna send their best two. Soonyoungie's Hoon's eyes 'n ears for these kinda things."

"Or… it could be Jeonghan."

Your noncommittal remark receives Seungcheol's scathing glower. "Bet."

"It wouldn't be the first time," you shrug.

"There haven't been any notable disturbances and the ground's been stable. So hopefully their only goal is to simply antagonize us further."

Antagonize.

A funny word for such a twisted coin game between a hunter and the hunted. You can't and don't blame the younger Bernardelli agent — only you were privy to most of the true horrors Seokmin dealt with behind the scenes, Seungcheol a close second. And because of that, you were usually the one at his side before an encounter with Jihoon and the ever lingering threat and terror of said man's monstrous power.

But today, you get up from the table without so much as a glance in his direction. Only a parting command of "Let's regroup near the entrance at high noon," while Seungkwan and Mingyu exchange looks of minor distress.

The black-haired man in his hangover blues obnoxiously blows a raspberry as you leave.

Later, there are two solid knocks on the door as you get ready. You know who it is before the door swings open after your agreeable hum to enter. Many may be intimidated at the sight of the silver weapon in your gloved hands. Seungkwan and Mingyu make up half of the quartet who aren't.

They take a seat on the bed as you purse your lips at the reflection in the dusty mirror. Then you fuss with the strap for your gun. Satisfyingly re-securing it around your thigh before throwing a carmine trench coat over tight kevlar that covers almost every inch of skin possible.

"Surprised you didn't dye everything else black during a fit of rage."

Your lips curl upwards. "How on Gunsmoke would I manage that?"

"With the way you're acting, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…' or so the saying goes."

"Really, 'Kwan?"

"I'm an avid supporter of women's rights and especially their wrongs."

"Sure you are."

"You would absolutely look dashing!"

"Thanks, Mingyu. Should've given my color scheme a little more consideration."

"But then you wouldn't have achieved such an infamous moniker. I mean, okay. Maybe the black plague killed tons of Earthlings eons ago but it doesn't have the same ring as 'Sirocco, the bloody rain that follows after the humanoid typhoon'…"

Seungkwan allegedly graduated at the top of his class, leave it to him to spew out all kinds of random facts that you know nothing about. You huff and adjust the brim of the large hat atop your head.

"All that does is make me cringe."

"Uh-huh, so what's making him act like that?"

"Who's acting like what?"

"Fine, keep playing dumb. Did you reject Seokmin or something?"

Mingyu gasps. Dramatically. Hands on cheeks and mouth open in a wide 'o' shape, puppy-dog eyes glistening with despair.

"There's no way!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, nothing happened so don't think you're gonna wheedle out of me whether you're going to win that stupid bet you two have going with Choi."

"Eh, don't worry. I've been out of the running for a while now, unfortunately."

"The hell did you even throw for?"

He shoots you a deadpan look. "Guess who's aged eighty years watching the two of you dance around each other like dumbasses? Could've sworn you'd be married with a toma farm or a dozen little children by now."

"It's your own damn fault for falling victim to that pastor's salacious schemes. And it's not even remotely like that, so…"

"Someone just doesn't wanna give in."

You stomp your foot, frustration boiling over. "Ugh, I'm never drinking again!"

"Wait… No fucking way…!"

"Literally shut up, Boo."

"I mean Choi did bet you'd confess and you know… get intimate afterwards… if you were drunk so…"

"Oh, so that's why he was so damn pushy last night."

"Dirty cheater."

"You expect anything less from someone like him?"

A sigh. "No."

It's a well-known fact that Seungcheol would rather stoke the flames of hell than ever needlessly dabble with holy water as one might be expected to with his chosen career.

"But judging by both of your moods, evidently nothing happened." The raven-haired man really has the gall to look disappointed that no one won yet pleased Seungcheol didn't, and the gall to point out the obvious. "Anyways, what did you bet on, Mingyu?"

"Don't recall!"

"Figures." Seungkwan's face falls flat against his palm with a groan before dragging it wearily down his face. "Whatever, it's not like it's that serious. Seriously," he adds on, feeling the burn of your perpetual glower. "Don't let it weigh on your mind. We need you fully focused."

"And when have I ever been less than what's expected of me?" You hold up a hand. "Wait! Don't answer. But really, worry more about that idiot."

"Aw, see? You still care!"

"… About that sixty billion bounty, Mingyu? Yeah."

"Sure you do."

"And truthfully, I was talking about Choi, 'Kwan."

"Well, both of them always get into those zany headspaces!"

You shrug at the tall man's truthfulness. "They're both holding a lot of trauma and baggage."

"And you aren't?" Seungkwan snorts with sarcasm dripping from the dig.

"At least mine's manageable. And… hasn't threatened your lives yet."

"As far as we know."

"In fact, I think I've saved your 'so-very-untraumatized' lives more often than not. Stay with me and you'll both be okay."

They good-naturedly give you individual looks of disdain. Perfectly in sync when you accompany that last statement with a devilish smirk and a twirl that flares out your tail coat with a flourish. By no means are they incapable. Clumsy Mingyu can adeptly wield his massive concussion gun when it counts, of course, and Seungkwan stealthily hides several derringer 'throwaway' pistols under his white cloak that he can fire with deadly precision.

Nonetheless, they loyally flank to your side when Tonim's bell tower signifies the hour of high noon has struck. Seungcheol meets the three of you outside the door of the saloon, smoking a cigarette and one arm lazily draped over the Punisher — a terrifying machine gun mockingly designed in the burdening shape of a merciful cross.

You spot Seokmin up ahead. He's standing on the low border wall near the town's entrance, perched next to a pillar for back support with the heel of his boot propped up behind him. Decked out in the usual galaxy ensemble, purple fabric cut off at shoulder-length of the top left sleeve to allow free range of movement for his prosthesis. His hair's slightly gelled up for a more intimidating and dramatic flair and it almost makes you giggle.

But there's that stern gaze focused on the horizon, likely able to see far out into the distance through those amber lenses the human eye can't quite decipher. Despite such a hardened resolve, his head tilts slightly up toward the blue sky with a faint smile on his lips — an honoring appreciation for the beauty and wonder of life despite its inevitable horrors.

Seungcheol clicks his tongue to get your attention while Seungkwan and Mingyu keep walking ahead. "Spiky Hair thinks he's really gonna do it?"

"Won't stop until he's tried every last resort."

"Even if it kills 'im?"

"Even if it kills him."

"This damned situation 'cause of ya know who."

"Dokyeom. DK."

"Nah, nah. There's the asinine version, eh?"

"Absolute pain in my ass?"

He slaps his knee. "Ah, aye… good one! But nah, 's really stupid one, Deathly, uh, er…?"

"… Deadly Knives?"

"Pfft, yeah, 's that one. So, we gotta try 'n stop one genocidal brother from sweepin' out the whole human race 'n tryna convince greedy humans not to keep exploitin' 'em with the other. Back 'n forth again 'n again. I swear…'s only ever gonna be impossible."

"What makes you think it can't happen?"

He looks at you like you're stupid. Maybe you are. But what does that make him? "Both sides — humans versus DK — think they're right 'n too proud to think otherwise."

"So you don't think they'll settle for a compromise. Or at least try to see the other's viewpoint?"

"Hell naw. Ain't no compromisin' when both think they're justified in what they're doin'."

"Well, regardless — you joined a good cause, Choi. World could use a little more peace and love, don't you think?"

He grunts. "Lookit who's corrupted yer ideologies. Don'tcha know what destroyed Earth?"

"And do you know what saved humans? Kindness. Hope. Empathy. Compassion. Change. Making and being the difference. The good kind."

A long time ago, maybe in a different twist of fate, you might've staunchly agreed with Seungcheol. But despite it all, you've been somewhat changed — or like the pastor said, call it a corruption of sorts — by Seokmin's unwavering sense of positivity and kindness no matter how bleak the future.

You admired him. Truly.

"Un-fuckin'-'lievable."

Seungcheol shakes his head as if he's not gearing up, ready and raring to go as he stomps forward to join a fellow 'brother-in-arms'. The thought inwardly makes you smile with affection until you remember you're actually, in fact, mad at Seokmin.

A dust cloud stirs up on the horizon, steadily growing closer to where you stand.

"You're so full of goddamn self-flagellation."

The individual where all your ire is centered on jolts, doing a double-take at your sudden but familiar presence by his side approaching. Or maybe it was the mere fact you were talking to him again. A warm expression overtakes his facial features at the sense of calm that automatically relaxes the tension in his muscles as he looks down at you.

"Well then, hello to you too. Feeling better, mayfly?"

"… Remind me to never drink again."

"I told you —"

"Yeah, yeah." You wave away his nagging and step up on the wall to stand next to him. "Don't worry, I won't be making a mistake like that again."

"… Mistake?"

There's an edge to his tone. Searching. Sometimes you hate how perceptive Seokmin can be. Though he actively acts oblivious and carefree, it's usually a ploy to lower other's guard.

You wonder how long he's known.

So, you sigh. "I'm talking about drinking, of course. And… I wish I could say I forgot even if… I haven't. But it's fine, I know where I stand."

The latter part of your sentence trails off. It's true though. You do know — thankful you can even be next to Seokmin. You might not be with him but at the very least, your place will always be somewhere by his side. Affectionate flings may be sought elsewhere. But they're always temporary. In your heart of hearts, you know you're irreplaceable to him.

And that's going to have to be good enough for you.

The man in question scratches the back of his head. "It's not… it's not like that. I know I fucked up."

"Stop." You grip at his prosthetic, knowing despite how sensitive the sensors are, they won't be able to pick up how you slightly tremble. "It's okay. Really."

Who is it you're trying to reassure?

"Mayfly," Seokmin murmurs. "Look at me."

With the slightest hesitation, your gaze finally rises from its focal point centered on his boots and the stones beneath to meet dark brown eyes. The ache in the gunslinger's chest eases just a little. It's been far too long — a day, in actuality — since he's got to lose himself among the vibrant hues of your irises and he squeezes your free hand in gratitude.

"It's not okay, I want to talk to you. Sober. But…"

"I get it. Now's not the time for a heart-to-heart, especially not in front of your brother's henchmen."

You laugh, for real this time. The sight is breathtaking; it makes Seokmin's eyes crinkle, a fond smile to accompany his affection as he leans in closer to you to whisper a sweet, "Thank you."

Three sets of eyes try to make it very not obvious that they're very obviously totally not watching the overdue interaction with bated breath.

"Oh golly good, they've made up!"

"'Course they would."

"It's about time, I couldn't take the tension anymore."

"Don'tcha think it'll get worse once they start canoodlin'?"

"Good lord," Seungkwan groans, "perish the thought."

"What's wrong with a little love? Yay for love!"

"Well, I don't think they've made it that far yet. But we're getting there. Baby steps."

It would be a good cause for celebration, a resumption of last night's festivities. Unfortunately, the merry moment is cut short with a screech of brakes, signaling the arrival of Jihoon, DK's most elite performer in his unmerry band of henchmen.

Next to the feared Crimsonnail's suitcase sits Soonyoung the Beast. Silver strands peek out behind the unsettling, bug-like circular mask hiding his face. He casually waves, acting like the unnerving discovery behind the innocent, abandoned child — who went by Hoshi — was simply a facade initially put on around your group and not such a grand revelation.

Having sorted that out in the stomach of a giant flying worm serving as a hive mind for Gunsmoke's legion of its original inhabitants and swearing not to let your guard down again, all five of you remain on high alert.

Jihoon's steel-colored eyes flicker to Seungcheol. "Hello there, Undertaker. Or… should I say Judas?"

"Howdy dandy to ya too, ya son of a bitch," the pastor snarls, spitting his cigarette in their direction. Cursing under his breath when the distance and uselessness of the fizzling stub doesn't blow up the engine like he wishes it would.

"Now, now. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

"Kinda wanna piss ya off as much as ya piss me off, yeah."

"Surely you know what —"

"He means nothing by it." You'd quickly abandoned your post next to Seokmin to place a hand on Seungcheol's taut shoulder. Boldly facing the blonde man's haughty expression with one that's hopefully placating enough on behalf of your comrade. "He's just grumpy because he's still hungover."

"Well, well… if it isn't the humanoid typhoon's little blood shower."

Ugh, you inwardly grimace, why the fuck does everyone have such unflattering nicknames for me?

"Still following him around, I see."

"'S a lot comin' from —"

" — Hasn't gotten rid of me yet!"

"… Seems it," Jihoon sniffs and cocks his head. "Similar to the dilemma I have with this persistent bug."

Soonyoung chortles, neck contorting at an unnatural angle to peer at the driver. "You love me."

"You're delusional."

"Why are you here?"

Seokmin's question comes sharp and pointed like a dagger, a far cry from his usual demeanor. His tone remains detached. Aloof. Vaguely accusatory. Unlike your harried action to cover for Seungcheol, you don't dare divert attention away from the gunslinger who stalks forward after elegantly hopping down from his perch. Despite an outwardly calm demeanor, there's an underlying urgency in his gait that's threatening to snap.

"For amusement. A show, if you will."

"One that's not even orchestrated by Joshua's freakish cult powers!"

Out of all the males surrounding you, you're not sure exactly who growls at the Beast's mere mention of the devil-like figurehead — in fact, it could've been all of them — but there's one noise that rings out above the din of it all.

Click!

You don't need super-hearing to pick up that telltale sound. Not when every person over the age of eighteen in Tonim has a cocked gun trained on each member of your ragtag gang.

"Uh, so… how many times is this?"

"One too fuckin' many," you answer Seungkwan with a petulant hiss and reluctantly mimic him by putting your hands up in the air.

Jihoon cackles. "And when will you fools ever learn?"

"'S my question, actually," the pastor nonchalantly calls over his shoulder, directed at the town's ringleader. "Didn't know ya had it in ya, boy."

You didn't think Wonwoo had it in him either, to be honest. But that's not something you were going to mention aloud with the shaky hold the bespectacled man has on the firearm waveringly aimed at his target — the one whose head is worth a 60 billion double dollars bounty, dead or alive.

"Felnarl. Jeneora Rock. Descartes. Dankin."

There's a faint twitch in one of Seokmin's eyebrows. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, sarcastically muttering under his breath an addition of location names, "Voldoor, Inepril, December, Lewiston…" and Mingyu joins in on the fun with a cheerful, "New Miami!"

Seungkwan watches warily and your jaw clenches. You can feel your teeth grind together in annoyance as Wonwoo's smarmy sneer grows smugger.

"And now, Tonim Town. What?" he jeers, seizing the chance to use the man's silence as a way to ridicule him. "Don't recognize what you've laid waste to? Must I bring up the big ones to jog your memory a little, like the city of July and Augusta or the hole in the fifth moon?"

"Why you —"

Enragement propels you a step forward, but the barrel swinging your way halts your next move mid-step. The sullen look on Wonwoo's face surprisingly holds no malice. He looks saddened, if anything, but you can't bring yourself to feel too much sympathy with the rifle he's now pointed toward you.

"You forgot one."

"Pardon?"

Seokmin's voice is hardly more than a whisper yet it rings out loud and clear amid the tense silence and stillness. "I said, you forgot one. There's not a name of any place or person I'd ever forget. I'm well aware of the ones you're talking about… and more. However, there's somewhere I won't ever forget that no one will ever know existed."

"… Huh?"

"Little Ivywood."

Wonwoo seems so taken aback and the pause unwittingly allows your eyes to drift over to meet Seokmin's brown ones. There are so many emotions conveyed in the sidelong glance — a mixture of regret-filled feelings yet ever so soft — and it lasts a second too long to snap the befuddled aggressor out of his reverie.

"Oh… I see." He pushes up his glasses, the lenses glinting in the pale sunlight like a typical anime villain. The long gun lowers to the ground the same time as he throws back his head to let out a bitter laugh. "So that's how it is! All you do is take and take and take, Lee. Destroy, destroy, destroy; again and again and again!"

"Aye, ole chap's gone off his rocker."

"You've made an ally out of a would-be, should-be enemy and think other victims with their pain and grief don't exist?!"

"Wow," Seungkwan wrinkles his nose in disgust, "yeah… he's gone completely insane."

Mingyu hums in agreement. "A little unhinged! Off the rocks! Unstable even! When can I knock him out?"

You'd love to give the gentle giant the go-ahead. Really. But even so…

"Damn you —"

"Stop it."

The townspeople's uncertainty and hesitance tells you all you need to know, especially when Wonwoo's hysteria leaves them even more perplexed. After years of handling a gun like a second arm, you can spot inexperience and fear of handling a dangerous weapon the second someone is near one. You lower your arms and step forward once more, confidence growing when he makes no move to threaten you further.

"You don't want this."

The corner of his mouth quirks upward, a rueful smile. "You know, I thought we really did share some camaraderie."

"We do."

"Yet you gallivant around with a monster like that?"

"He's not a monster."

"I should've known better, really, when the VERnons said you're the sirocco that follows after the humanoid typhoon. Heroes, my ass! I don't get it, how could you do that to others after what happened to you?"

To us?

It remains unspoken yet you can hear the intent of the accusingly barbed question. Two survivors of a wrecked hometown. Shared camaraderie hadn't been a lie. Even now as you meet the flickering fire in Wonwoo's eyes with a blazing flame in your own, all you can see is a reflection of your past and what you could've turned into in a possible future.

A cold gleam returns to his gaze as he takes your silence as defiance. Or maybe even shamelessness. "How could you turn a blind eye to such a bloody warpath of destruction when you know too well of the tragedy that's left behind?!"

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"… Excuse me?"

"That's what all of you are doing right now," you declare loudly and some of Tonim's residents whose conscience stings have the decency to avert their eyes. Awareness of their actions seem to weigh down on them, guns lowering ever the slightest and the awkwardness encourages Seungkwan to speak up.

"We would've left peacefully tomorrow."

"But yer actions're gonna be the very cause of the destruction yer tryin' so damn hard to prevent."

"Because you took a bribe!"

There's a stilted, horrified, and collective gasp, so you try to remedy Mingyu's exclamation.

"It's because you let your malice sway you. Tell me, Jeon. What all did you lose?"

"My whole town. Then my parents. Almost my life and nearly Lina's too. My lover…"

"And your sense of self. Plus, the new life you've created here — and those things? Almost lost because of your own accord. Why would you destroy the few good things you're granted?"

Wonwoo's eyebrows scrunch as his face tenses. Your heart goes out to him despite everything, hoping to get your point across as you continue speaking.

"That doesn't negate the losses. The grief. The pain. It never goes away but… you can choose to clean out the wound, put some salve on it, and bandage it or let it fester and infect your body 'til it rots even your soul."

You can hear the shift in the sand as Seokmin approaches to stand next to you. He regards Wonwoo with a kind smile and the understanding, crescent-shaped squint of his eyes is like a punch to the other man's gut.

"…. I —"

" — It's your choice, Jeon. What did they offer you? Money? There are so many bets on July's militia lying about the payout. I mean, c'mon, there's no way a ruined city would have the funds."

"Yer Plant's no longer in red status, so ya won't need to barter no more."

"I'll throw in a better deal — let us go and I'll have Choi marry you and Sherry, free of charge."

His cheeks flush and you inwardly gloat, instincts right on the money. Seungcheol's jaw drops, absolutely flabbergasted, and the townsfolk exchange a few knowing snickers.

"If it's protection you need, we can figure that out too," Seokmin recovers and offers in a low voice. "And if Do — er, Knives — or his gang approached you with a deal, just know that they never hold up their end of the bargain."

"You're lucky you threatened us first. DK's side is a little too slash-happy and trigger-loving to resort to verbal methods. They're the ones you'd want to go after anyways, you see, this man and Knives are twins if you don't look close enough, they're eerily similar at the strangest moments. So the real story is that it's all just spiraled out of control."

"You mean…"

"I won't deny responsibility." Seokmin admits sternly. "It's true that I've wreaked devastation to many towns. Failed to save the people I swore to protect."

"But DK keeps forcing his hand to get Seok to join his genocidal cause. And every time he refuses to do so, his brother throws a tantrum and well, knives go flying everywhere. Literally."

"He's a little…" The gunslinger searches for the right word — and finding that there is none — cringes. "Dramatic."

You stare at him, aghast. "He cut your arm off!"

Wonwoo pales, swallows, and then grimaces, daring to ask, "So… I've had it wrong the whole time?"

"I guess not entirely." You shrug, also guilty as charged years ago. "And obviously not the first."

"And certainly not the last," Seungkwan pipes up.

The bespectacled man looks down at the ground. "I don't… I don't know… Do I even deserve this kind of treatment? This… mercy?"

"No."

With such a blunt answer, Seokmin's quick to protest with an admonishment of your name while Seungkwan and Mingyu suppress smiles at your straightforwardness. Seungcheol freely chuckles, lighting a cigarette.

And Wonwoo's face falls as remorse hits all over again.

"But," you smirk, "what have I told you?"

"Oh, ah… why destroy the few good things life grants me?"

"Good. You were listening. We might get along just fine, after all." You send him a teasing wink. "Camaraderie and all that be damned."

A sheepish look overtakes the man's previously hardened features. And suddenly he's laughing with his head thrown back like earlier, but this time it's with an unrestrained amount of joy. Relief. Hope.

"The ticket to the future is always blank, Wonwoo." Seokmin extends a hand and the other man takes it, the small grin on his face turning into a full-blown smile.

"Guns down, Tonim town. The rest of you, come on out! Let's celebrate!" He calls out to everyone, gesturing for your group to follow. "Drinks are on me to make up for this whole mess. I'm sorry for getting you all involved."

You turn around toward Seokmin, elation written all over your face that he readily mirrors. Just as you're about to grab his hand as he reaches out at the same time, there's a slow, loud handclap that sets off mental warning sirens blaring all over again.

"Conflict resolution. How very touching."

The velvety voice is deceivingly sweet. But beneath the dulcet tones lies a raw and wicked strength. It rings out clearly, even more so when the jubilant mood abruptly dies down as a new figure approaches.

"Aw, c'mon Joshie! Just when it was gettin' good!" Soonyoung whines and you belatedly realize you forgot all about the real enemies at the entrance gate, thinking they had grown bored and left.

"What about that was 'getting good'?"

The Beast huffs at Jihoon's surly attitude, more than likely pouting beneath his mask. "Was really lookin' forward to those free drinks…"

"We don't need drinks and we don't need you, Josh."

If there's one commonality between the adversary and your group, it's the shared disdain for the elegant-looking man dressed in all black fabrics with shiny leather buckles, and slicked-back locks to match.

"Hm. But I think you do."

Chilling ochre-colored eyes couldn't be bothered to look at you, drifting past you and Seokmin like you were nothing more than the grains of sand littering every surface on Gunsmoke. And like a marionette, your head automatically swivels to follow his line of sight, blood draining from your face when you realize what he's looking at.

Lina.

She breaks away from holding onto Sheryl's hand after they emerge from the saloon, bounding toward her brother with excitement all over her face. The arm that isn't supporting his firearm extends gallantly outward, ready to welcome her with a hug as he strolls to meet her halfway.

They're smiling at one another with so much adoration after the intensity from earlier. If you weren't fucking terrified, you'd wish Dokyeom was also there to see how pure a sibling relationship and affection should be.

Instead, your stomach lurches, and Seokmin hisses beside you. With your back turned, you can't see Joshua but you're sure he's smirking when Wonwoo's frame stiffens, body jerking as it moves beyond his control.

Hastily, he's cocking the rifle with expert ease and assuming the perfect position to fire it, something he previously displayed no knowledge on before. Wide eyes have no choice but to peer down the scope and he chokes at how it's unforgivingly aimed directly at his little sister.

She skids to a halt, ten paces away. Hesitant. Wary. Puzzled.

"… Wonu?"

It all plays out in slow motion as you reach for Sirocco, simultaneously screaming out to your friends to alert them and provide cover. Frantic panic swirls in the air like a sandstorm at the turn of events, but even more fear generates when the townspeople can do nothing but helplessly succumb to their limbs moving on their own too.

Despite every single effort and all of his muscles straining not to do it, Wonwoo's pointer finger on the trigger pulls back. It doesn't matter how much he struggles to fight for control, his body refuses to listen. Tears flow from his eyes even though he can't speak, can't yell, can't beg for forgiveness — the vehement sense of horror is the only thing able to overpower Joshua's terrifying control, leaking out a salty excess.

Bang!

Three gunshots ring out at the same time. You fire right before Wonwoo does and Seokmin follows two seconds later. Not because his reaction time is slower. But because he could see and calculate where the bullet's headed after you changed its trajectory by shooting at Wonwoo's barrel.

It doesn't end there.

Seokmin is a half-step closer to Lina and can move at an inhumane speed, diving into a tuck-and-roll to reach her moments before the residents have no choice but to open fire too.

You know he's fast enough to dodge bullets at close range, but the staggered distance spread out among all of those present in the town's square works little for that insane advantage. Instead, the skilled combatant focuses all his attention on shielding Lina beneath the loose flaps of his impenetrable trench coat. She clings tightly to his leg, whimpering.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Continuing to mutter reassurances, he pats her fluffy brown hair with an unshaking cybernetic palm while the other rapidly points his revolver upwards to deflect a bullet that might've been lucky enough to shatter the bridge of his glasses. Then doing the same to one at five o'clock on his right. He angles his body this way and that as if a puppeteer is yanking the strings connected to his limbs to the perverse beat of an unheard tune. The few he misses land harmlessly against the thick kevlar material you're all wearing.

Meanwhile, your steady hand supports the familiar weight of Sirocco. Muscle memory aids you with cocking the gun as you run. Aiming at the closest group of people near them and then — bang!, bang!, bang! — snipe off the barrels on their guns in rapid succession, rendering them useless.

From behind, something flies past your face and nicks the top of your ear — one of the few places unprotected by bulletproof material — causing you to hiss. Scowling over your shoulder, you squint in the direction it came from.

While a complete bastard, Seungcheol is also the most resourceful ray of hope in a shootout like this. The Punisher's automatic artillery relentlessly fires shot after shot, destroying old and weather-beaten guns like they're empty, crushable soda cans. It's faster too. The trigger-happy pastor twirls it around maniacally, taking only the slightest care to not actually kill anyone.

You're a hundred percent sure it's because of Joshua's disturbing power that allows him to reanimate corpses rather than Seokmin's "Thou shalt not kill" lecture and pacifist philosophies that keeps the supposed 'god-fearing' man from snuffing out anyone's life this time around. Despite the bullets whizzing around, you know he'll fare alright with that healing serum of his — just as long as he doesn't overdose on it.

Mingyu rushes over to stand back-to-back with the pastor, x-shaped claws firing out of his 'stun-gun' and immobilizing many of his targets with ease. You can't help but grimace though, wondering if they'll sustain more brain damage from Joshua's nefarious telepathy or a well-meaning concussion that leaves them unconscious and no longer posing a threat. A solid steel object flies past the brown-haired man's head, knocking down the mind-controlled person who was trying to sneak up on him using a blind spot.

"Ooh, thanks, Seungkwan!"

"Pay attention, you blockhead!"

An empty derringer lays at said blockhead's feet and Mingyu kicks it away with a childlike glee. A brand-new loaded pistol is already in Seungkwan's right hand even as he throws away the one in his left toward someone approaching Seungcheol. The young man's never empty-handed for long because with another flashy twirl from out of his cloak and a new handgun is cocked, aimed, and fired.

Despite the distance and conditions, all three work together like clockwork. Different shaped and sized cogs all interconnected to succeed without causing too much harm. And you know you must play your part as well, turning your attention back to the few townsfolk that remain.

"Seokmin, switch!"

It's not like he needs the heads-up. The way you'd both been inching closer to each other every time your gun's fired already issued the forewarning. It's like a subtle tango performed by two fierce allies surrounded by deadly enemies. If you didn't know better, it's similar to an intricate sword dance.

But you knew how dangerous it was to play with knives.

The swift transfer of Lina's warm little body into your arms is a welcome comfort. Seokmin sends you a dazzling smile, one full of confidence at a successful swap.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you coo and your gloved thumb wipes away one of the tear trails cutting through the dirt smudges on her face. "You are so, so, so brave and I'm so, so, so proud of you."

"He," she sniffles, "my… my… br-brother. W-Wonu!"

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you turn her to face the other way. "Everything's going to fine. I promise. Now, run to Seungcheol. He'll keep you safe while the rest of us finish this."

Seungkwan and Mingyu had effectively disarmed everyone on their end and now worked on dragging the town's unconscious residents inside the saloon and attending to any wounds. The pastor stood guard near the entrance with his Punisher staked firmly into the sandy ground. Although empty of ammunition, the machine gun still served a purpose as a great defender with its imposing cross shape.

With the target assuredly safe — out of sight, out of mind — the control Joshua has over those remaining falters and starts to lose its effect. In the brief lull, Seokmin dashes ahead to deliver a flying kick that helpfully unsheathes the dagger hidden in the sole of his boots, demolishing one more firearm in someone's grip before it can be used again.

Bang!

And with Sirocco's precision, the last two are destroyed as well. You match your comrade's grin and turn triumphantly to where the instigators still stand at the entrance.

There would be no casualties today. You and your comrades would make sure of that.

Joshua, stoic as ever, surveys the aftermath with an air of unbothered gracefulness. Jihoon fumes next to him. Panic spikes when Soonyoung can't be spotted at first until you spy him curled up in the car's front seat — asleep.

You fist bump Seokmin in high spirits. Then fearlessly meet a pair of deep orange eyes devoid of any emotion or warmth, a shift occurs in your smile. Confidence and satisfaction hone the corners of your mouth into a daring smirk and something about the bold taunt causes a rare flicker of humor to cross Joshua's lips. Whether it's scornful pity or simple mockery, you don't have time to figure it out because Jihoon snaps.

Nails.

Several of them fly through the air and their wielder's formidable namesake comes from the daunting color that makes the multitude of piercers look like thin streaks of blood against the pale blue sky. The spikes as long as spears are all fired from Jihoon's large suitcase-turned-crossbow that aims just shy of your left side.

Those steel eyes of his are as sharp as their color. The malice within them feels suffocating, so strong and heavy that it sucks all the breath straight out of your lungs. Only the pain from a nail grazing your cheek is enough to pull your attention away from drowning in the unnerving emotion and you put a hand up to the laceration to soothe the sting.

Wetness oozes from your skin, an unsettling feeling of sliminess accompanying the touch. Puzzled, your fingers retract and you ponder the sheer amount of red viscoelastic fluid coating them. There's so much of it pooling that droplets fall to the sand below while others dribble down past your wrist and under your sleeve, the stain blending right in with the fabric of your coat.

Drip.

"It's all your fault!"

Drip.

"Their blood is on your hands…"

Drip.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

Drip.

"Don't you feel responsible?"

Drip.

"Do you regret being the only one left to live?"

Drip.

Faces you know and voices you cannot recall overlap and echo. Unfamiliar frowning expressions and intonations you remember as once gentle now ridicule, belittle, and find every crack in your well-made armor. Insidious whispers weave inside, entangling themselves within the fragile support structures of your mind and very soul. They point and cackle to one another at such a sorry sight, only for you to realize you're angrily jabbing a pointer finger at your worthless reflection with those cursory words coming straight out of your own mouth.

Drip.

Your head turns robotically, like an early prototype of the lost technology Earthlings created. This time it's Sheryl who's the victim, helplessly well within the trajectory line of Jihoon's rage. Every muscle aches, weighed down by exhaustion. Your shoulder burns. Yet you still somehow find the strength within you to rush toward her, especially hearing Lina's desperate wail as she's held back by a grimacing Seungcheol.

Drip.

Like a comet, Seokmin blazes past. He skids to a stop, effectively shielding the woman right before impact. You're too slow to move. In fact, it feels like an out-of-body experience. As if you're nothing but a hologram inside the floating ship — an artificial intelligence projection with no other choice but to witness the horrors and observe tangible objects scuttle towards their inevitable doom without interference. You're left with no choice but to simply watch as the nails are propelled through the air with the intent to strike.

Drip.

Someone's screaming. Maybe it's you.

Drip.

The nails impale Seokmin without mercy. Strike after strike, they pierce straight through the material of his coat designed to repel only bullets and plunge deep within the muscles beneath his skin. One after the other. So many of them stick out of the man's backside like the skeletal bone formation for wings. He slumps to his knees, falling on top of a bewildered but unharmed Sheryl. When he only lays still with no further action, you're struck with the dreadful knowledge that he may never move again and it fills you with an unfathomable maelstrom of raw grief and anger.

Drip.

Suddenly, you're no longer drowning in invisible quicksand and can move freely again. There's zero hesitation in your now fluid movements — not even when the blond-haired man poises his crossbow directly at you this time. Pulling out the spare gun hidden near your hip, you blast the airborne spikes flying towards you without hesitation.

Bang!

More fall than you shoot. The anger, pain, and grief you wield is enough to tear them apart like they're nothing but worm larvae helplessly caught in a sandstorm. You stalk forward through the crimson ire that relentlessly strikes down, clearing a path that's littered with broken, twisted, and dented nails before resolutely aiming point-blank at Jihoon's forehead.

Click.

More people are screaming and the spiteful cacophony in your mind resumes. But your ears feel like they're filled with cotton and this time you're stuck underwater. Your chest rises and falls, trying and failing to collect yourself.

"… out of it!"

"Hyperventialing -"

"Goddamn it! Get ahold o'yerself, woman!"

The Crimsonnail sneers.

Your cheek stings.

The dissonance reminds you of the wound from before. But this time it feels like a sting, as if someone slapped you — albeit rather gently. Numb, you halt in place and cautiously raise your hand back to your surprisingly unmarred face. But rather than skin, you grasp onto something solid. Something familiar. Something kind. Something loving. Something safe. Something warm. Something that's yours — always has been and always will be.

Someone.

And then… you open your eyes — and find yourself staring directly into Seokmin's sparkling brown ones.

"Y-you're dead," you manage to choke out in disbelief and his eyes incredulously crinkle into half-moons at the statement to hide the tears brimming in them.

The soothing hand caressing your cheek moves to wrap around the barrel of the gun you're pressing to his forehead and he smiles disarmingly. As if what you just said was the funniest thing ever.

"I know, mayfly."

Part 2 | Read the whole thing on AO3

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #seokmin smut #lee seokmin smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #trigun au #svt au #seventeen au

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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year ago

Note

IBDIJEUIDJBEYAI

I JUST HAD A BIG BRAIN MOMENT!!

Kitten surprising Min with her old school uniform and a lil role play. His mind is racing from the skirt and the memories and he can like touch her how he always imagined her

-🥝

you're so absolutely right, kiwi. this was a humongous brain moment.

i've had this ask in my inbox since mid-august bc i just had to write something I HAD TO since it stirred something within me. thankfully, i recently figured out how i wanted to go about this, and finally got to writing it💜

Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you probably don’t really need to read any of the other instalments to understand this one, although it's highly recommended!). | Word Count: ~3k | Themes & Warnings: Supernatural/Fantasy AU · Smut · Fluff · Established Relationship · role-playing as high schoolers (disclaimer: they’re both consenting adults fulfilling fantasies of their past, neither are genuinely attracted to minors in any way) · nipple play · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is on birth control] · a smidge of a breeding kink · cumshot · barely proof-read as it usually is with these “drabbles”...

minors do not interact.

“Min–Minho…”

Oh, how sweet you sounded when you said his name like that… It was just how he’d dreamt it’d be. He’d heard you before, of course. But not in this situation, in this particular setting…

“My dad could be home anytime now–Oh, shit…” Your words got caught in your throat the second he bit one of your nipples. How could he not, when you were on his lap, with your uniform shirt open, and your bra just down enough for him to play with your chest.

“Shh, it’ll be fine, kitten”, Minho mumbled against the swell of your breast, leaving a love bite that he hoped would be visible when you wore one of your low tops. “If he were to come home, you know he doesn’t bother us when we’re doing our homework…”

You whined as soon as his mouth reattached to your nipple, as he gently rolled the other between his thumb and index finger… Your hands buried in his hair, keeping him close while you rolled your hips to find some friction against his crotch. The pressure had his mouth salivating further, borderline drooling all over your nipple like the dog he’d recently become.

Or, at least, in this fantasy, he had probably been turned a few years prior…

When you and Minho had come to your father’s house today to help him clean up some of your old stuff from your childhood room, Minho certainly hadn’t expected for the afternoon to take him right here. To him sitting on the edge of your bed, dressed in his school uniform, with you sitting on his lap, and dressed in your school uniform.

It had been such an impromptu thing… You found the pieces of clothing at the bottom of your dresser, forgotten from the last time you wore them in your final year. Back then, you always kept a spare change of Minho’s uniform for those nights when he unexpectedly stayed over.

‘Ohhhh, you should put it on. I used to love how the uniform looked on you’, you’d told him as you handed him the dress shirt with the school’s logo on it, and the white vest top he used to wear under it.

‘Alright, but only if you put on yours. The whole thing. I also loved how you looked in that uniform’, he’d told you immediately, because it was the truth. That plaid skirt and the white button-up used to make stellar appearances in his teenage-hormones-driven wet dreams.

He used to feel embarrassed about it. You were his best friend in this world, and the fact that he found himself daydreaming of how it’d look like if he took a peek under your skirt, or how it’d feel if he buried his face in your cleavage, certainly made him feel guilty.

Now, as an adult well into his twenties, after you both shared your affections, he no longer felt as guilty about it. Especially after learning that you yourself had those thoughts about him back then, too.

When you put on that uniform shy of fifteen minutes ago, Minho was reminded of all those thoughts he used to have, of all the sleepless nights and hidden chubs at school… It hit him then that maybe this was exactly why he loved seeing you in skirts so much in present day. A result of his teenage-self’s never fulfilled desires.

Sure, he couldn’t button his shirt since his shoulders and arms had broadened with age, and your skirt was certainly much shorter than it used to be, but that didn’t stop either of you from falling into your roles.

‘Mmm… It’s almost like we have just come back from school and are getting ready to get some work done’, you chuckled as you looked at yourself in the mirror and adjusted your thigh high socks.

That sentence alone lit up the bulb in his head, it sparked a naughty little idea that he knew you’d either entertain or laugh about. Either result was fine by him, so he had no qualms when he walked behind you, and looked at you through the mirror.

Calling your name as he placed his hands on your waist, Minho had asked you to turn around to face him. ‘There’s… there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for so long… Please don’t be mad…’

Minho feigned nervousness, like he was once again that boy that had seemingly unrequited feelings for his best friend.

‘I really, really like you… Can’t stop thinking about you. How’d it be like to kiss you, to feel you close in ways other than platonic. You’re my best friend, and I cherish that deeply, but I just… I like you so much’, funny thing, how those were pretty much the same words he’d wanted to say to you back then. Words he had practised in front of the mirror a few times, but he was always too much of a coward to actually tell you.

You looked at him in what Minho figured was feigned shock. Oh, how he loved you… You just knew him so well, and knew exactly what he was doing without saying a single word. ‘I… I like you, too. Have liked you for so long, Minho…’

Minho had cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. He kissed you as if he’d never done it before, desperately, hungrily, no time for being tender and soft when all he’d wanted was to devour you whole. And you had retaliated, of course. You’d pulled him close by the collar of his shirt and pressed your chest to his, kissing him with fervour.

‘Even if I’m… If I’m now…’ A beast, was what he wanted to say as he spoke between kisses. Minho had maybe fallen a little too well into this role of his younger self. He could still remember how insecure he used to be about his condition, how he looked down on himself after being infected with this goddamn lycanthropy… Those were feelings that no longer existed within him, he had now long since accepted this was part of him. If anything, with time, he’d embraced it.

‘I’d like you even if… Even if you were a worm’, you replied simply, making him giggle, which in turn made you giggle.

Minho scooped you into his arms after that, and he walked the remaining steps to your childhood bed so he could sit on it with you on his lap. In no time, he was groping you over your shirt, under your skirt, and you had started to beg for him to touch you more.

His instincts were stunted, you knew that, he knew that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have this animal side to him. Sometimes, especially when he was horny, that animalistic side of him took over his logical mind, and, back when he was a teen, he could recall having a harder time with certain feelings and emotions like these. So, he let them cloud his reason a bit as he fulfilled this little fantasy of his…

Minho ripped your shirt open, the buttons flew all over your room, and you gasped when he buried his head between your breasts. The thing was also a bit too tight on you, so he was sure you wouldn’t miss the garment if it got ripped a bit in the process.

You scrambled to take a hold of his hands, bringing them to your chest so he could fondle you over your bra, once again begging him to touch you. To ��Please, please, Minho, touch me. I need it. I need you…’

And he was sure his cock was about to pop out of his jeans with how hard it got at your desperation.

So here you were, grinding into each other, on your childhood bed while Minho feasted on your tits.

“Fuck, that feels so good, baby. Harder. Do it harder…”

How could he deny you when you sounded so needy? When he’d wanted to do this for so long?

He bit harder, pinched harder, pulling strangled sounds of pleasure out of your lips. The more attention he gave to your chest, the more you rolled your hips against him, effectively pulling sounds of pleasure out of his lips.

His senses were flooded by you. The smell of your arousal on your lavender scent, your weight of him, the taste of your skin on his tongue, all combined had him almost delirious, especially when his free hand found its way under that godforsaken skirt of yours to tightly grope one of your buttocks.

“Baby, I think I’m… I might…”

Fuck, if you came just from him playing with your chest and you grinding your cunt on the tent in his jeans, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to contain himself. Although, he supposed coming in his underwear would’ve been a very accurate representation of what would’ve happened if his teenage self had ever had the opportunity to have you on him like this…

Minho couldn’t help but groan when you tightened your grip on his hair, when you started to roll your hips faster, harder… God, all he wanted right now was for the girl of his dreams to come, he needed to feel you trembling in his hold, to drown in your scent so he could convince himself this was happening.

Seeing you come, holding you tight while you did, was just absolutely delightful. You bit on your fist to keep your moans contained, while your whole body shook with your release.

Minho had to make the conscious effort not to blow right then and there. He was sure that if this had happened back when you were still that young, he would’ve certainly done so. He imagined that this would’ve probably been your first sexual experience together, that you’d laugh about how he soiled his underwear and how needy you’d been, before you laid down and cuddled for a bit…

Maybe you would’ve had sex a different time, on a different day where you were sure your dad wouldn’t come back home… But this wasn’t about being fully realistic, this was about having fun while fulfilling a shared fantasy.

“Fuck, Minho, baby, stop… I’m sore…”

Minho finally pulled himself away from your chest, mumbling a very unconvincing ‘Sorry’ before he attached his lips to the pulse point on your neck, relishing how fast your blood was pumping in your veins.

“You’re so fucking hot, my kitten. I’ve been dreaming of this moment, y’know?” He mumbled in your ear, taking one of your breasts in his hand to fondle the flesh, with special care to not stimulate your nipple too much.

“Me too, baby…” You were still trembling occasionally within his arms, taking deep breaths to get your racing heart to slow down inside your chest. “I’ve wanted this so bad… Even… Even touched myself thinking about it”.

“Mmm, fuck…” Minho started sucking love bites on your neck, following this faint need in his gut to leave his mark on you. “Have you?”

“I have… Sometimes, I did it while we slept in the same room”.

Minho wasn’t sure if this was you playing your fantasy, or if this was a real thing that happened, but, being honest, it didn’t matter. It made his mind disconnect completely as soon as the words came out of your mouth regardless.

Before he could even register it himself, he had stood up and thrown you on the bed, eliciting a shaky, surprised gasp from your lips. In a second, he was on you, kissing you hard, messily, even desperately. Your limbs wrapped around him, your arms around his neck, and your legs around his middle, bringing him further down to lay flush against you in your heated kiss.

He was dizzy, lightheaded, and for a second, he almost believed he was in the past, that he was making out with you on your bed after school, that he was about to lose his virginity to his best friend.

“Fuck, I need to put it in…” Minho barely detached his lips from yours while he spoke, just kept messily kissing you between words as he ground his hips to your core. “Please, please let me put it in… Need you…”

“We–we need a condom, Min”, your hands found their way under his top, where they settled to caress his back, making him shiver. “I don’t have any here”.

“Fuck, I don’t have any, either”, Minho left your lips to instead attach his own to your collarbones, to nibble on the sensitive skin, making you whine. “I’ll pull out. I got quick reflexes, it’ll be fine, please…”

He certainly was playing into this horny-teenage-boy thing all too well. Although, he was sure his younger self wouldn’t have been this stupid to believe just ‘pulling out’ would be an effective contraceptive, and surely neither would you. After all, back then, your dad made sure you both knew about being safe, which Minho was grateful for to this day.

Regardless, the very real implant you had in your arm made it so he could play like this, so you both could play like this.

“Shit, you’ll pull out?” Your hands trembled when they found his backside and squeezed him. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Promise, kitten. Cross my heart”.

One of your hands left his bum to move to his crotch, where you cupped and squeezed him and overall felt him over the fabric of his jeans. He couldn’t help but buck his hips to let you feel as much as you could of him. “Fuck, okay. But Min… I’m not sure this will fit…”

“It will. I’m sure it will. It has to. You trust me, no?”

With a deep breath, biting your lip, you nodded. “Trust you with my life”.

When Minho pulled himself away from your hold, he just had to tell you how fucking gorgeous you looked with your hair all messy, your tits out, your ripped shirt, and that fucking skirt… The hem pooled on your belly, exposing your underwear and the mouth-watering wet-patch on them.

God, he wanted a taste… But there wasn’t enough time for that right now.

Minho hastily unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them and his underwear down just enough to free his length. You swore under your breath, taking him into your hand and spreading the pre-cum that had beaded at the tip so you could easily stroke him.

“Baby, please…” You guided him to your core. With your free hand, you pulled your underwear to the side, and dragged the tip of his cock all over your folds. “Need it. Need you, Minho…”

One day you’d be the death of him, he was sure.

Under normal circumstances, Minho would’ve stretched you open with his fingers, he would’ve made sure you were absolutely ready to take that annoyingly big alpha cock of his. But he figured skipping the step would be a bit more… in character.

“Oh, fuck, fuck…” Minho pushed himself into your heat slowly, letting your walls adjust to his length with what he hoped wasn’t much discomfort. He knew that if there had been any, you would’ve said the word that would immediately stop everything you were doing. “That’s so fucking tight…”

You whined, not necessarily in discomfort, but in that way that made him know you were feeling impatient. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you tried to push on his backside to get him to get in already. “Please, I need it all. Now”.

“Shit–!” As soon as Minho bottomed out and had propped himself on his forearms, you took a hold of his hair and pulled him down for a messy kiss.

There was just so much spit. Everything was so sloppy and messy and he was honestly enjoying it way more than he ever thought he would.

“Fuck, you’re so hard… Can’t believe you fit”, you mumbled breathlessly against his lips, releasing his hair to place your hands on his back.

“Didn’t doubt–Shit, if you keep clenching like that I’ll come, kitten… Didn’t doubt I’d fit right in. Isn’t this cunt for me? Hm? Hasn’t it always been?” Minho didn’t even give you time to respond, he just started to thrust, a borderline animalistic pace that had you biting on his shoulder to muffle your moans.

There was nothing but heavy breaths and desperate groans and whines and moans… Nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin and the headboard hitting the wall and your nails sinking on his clothed back…

Minho vaguely realised he was growling with each thrust. Like an animal. He was making all these sounds like the animal he was. And every time he did, your body just immediately reacted. Either by clawing at his back, or biting harder on his shoulder, or clamping hard around his length…

It was honestly driving him crazy. It reminded him that, ultimately, you accepted him, that you loved him just as he was. What an odd, but pleasant reflexion to make when you both were fucking, and pretending to be your teenage selves at that.

“It–It is”, you meekly mumbled after a while, and Minho, a bit puzzled, pulled himself away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “It’s yours. Has always been. I’ve always been”.

Minho swore loudly, throwing his head back once your words registered properly in his hazy mind. Your cunt was his, you were his. You’ve always been…

That reassurance, coupled with the vice grip of your walls, got him so incredibly close…

“Fuck, kitten, gonna come. Need to–need to pull out”, Minho was panting, drunk on the pleasure he was feeling and the fog clouding his reason.

Your legs tightened around his frame, keeping him as close as you could while he kept thrusting into you. “What if–What if you don’t?”

“Oh, God… Don’t say that…”

“Why? What if I want your puppies? Hm?”

He was going to die. Minho was sure he was seeing the gates of heaven open up right in front of him.

“C–can’t. We can’t…” Shaking his head, Minho tried his best to hold back, a titanic effort with how fucking good you were making him feel, with how fucking in love with you he was.

“Can’t…?” There was a pout on your lips, highlighted by your blown pupils, and Minho, once again, shook his head in response.

Minho just desperately shook his head. “Kitten, baby, please…”

The hold of your legs relented. Minho immediately straightened himself and pulled out of your warmth to take his cock in one of his hands while the other gripped your hip tightly. One, two pumps and he was groaning deeply, coming all over your underwear, over your mound and your now only partially exposed folds.

The sight was nothing short of exquisite. Your wrinkled, open shirt, your tits still falling out of your bra, with your nipples slightly puffy after all the attention Minho had given them, the skirt hunched at your waist, and your underwear drenched in his cum…

Minho felt light, satisfied, and, as he tried to catch his breath, he just took you in.

After a few moments of silence–silence, save for the sound of your heavy breathing and the ringing in his ears–a grin made its way to your face, and, a second after, you broke into laughter. It made him laugh, too. Maybe uncontrollably so.

“Oh, that was awesome”, you chuckled, wiping the tears that had collected in your eyes at your outburst. “So good”.

“Totally agree”, Minho leaned into you to press a brief kiss on your lips before he left the bed to find a face towel from your dresser to clean up the stupid amounts of cum that had come out of his stupid monster cock off of your body.

“‘Suppose it was a good thing that my dad isn’t coming until very late today. It would’ve been seriously awkward to explain what was going on if he found us… Well, like this”, you started shrugging your shirt off as soon as Minho had finished cleaning you up, and proceeded to work the couple of buttons on your skirt.

“I don’t think he would’ve appreciated the sight, to be honest”, Minho chuckled, getting out of his shirt and vest top as well to put his t-shirt back on and do his jeans.

As soon as you two were dressed properly and in clean clothes, you both laid back down, unbothered by the soiled sheets. Minho simply pulled you into his arms, and pressed a brief kiss on your forehead before he hugged you close.

“Kitten…” Minho mumbled against your hair after a while, dragging his hand up and down your back in a gentle caress. “Was that true?”

You absentmindedly traced patterns on his chest, shapes that he could’ve sworn were hearts and stars. “Was what true?”

“Y’know… that thing about… About you touching yourself while I was in the same room…”

You pulled yourself away from his hold a bit so you could look him in the eyes. A smile came to your lips, right before you started opening your mouth to speak.

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penvisions · 7 months ago

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wish i never met you {a garnish one shot}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Fear of rejection and messing up so beyond comprehension makes you regret crossing the professional line and getting to know Joel as you do now.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: canon typical language, joel thinks he's the one in charge but we all know it's really reader, religious contemplation, mentions of past trauma, mentions of bad family dynamics, smoking, consumption of alcohol, menstruation, talk of menstruation, blood, cramps, muscle soreness, unorthodox pregnancy announcement, reader is a hot mess, allusions to adult content, allusions to smut, mentions of past p in v, might need to add more if i missed anything!

A/N: wrote this as part of a fun, silly fic title prompt game submission from a sweet anon. it totally inspired an angsty din piece at first that i have in my drafts but then these two slammed into my brain and hijacked the idea. i just love them, your honor. i have so much love for them. NOW I KNOW THIS SUBJECT MATTER ISN'T FOR EVERYONE, I REALLY DEBATED POSTING THIS OVER THE LAST FEW DAYS BC I KNOW IT'S NOT EVERYONE'S CUP OF TEA but i feel like this is a good trajectory for these two, truly. i'm so sorry if anyone disagrees with the direction i took this in and i hopei t doesn't take away from the original series for y'all

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“No, fuck off.” Was the quick response to a wide palm caressing over your back. You were hunched over your crossed legs on the couch, aware of how bad the position was for your posture. But it was the only way to find any relief on your aching back. You had thought it was cramps at first, really, but then you realized all the symptoms of your monthly cycle fell in line with something else when the bleeding never started.

“Excuse me, darlin’? You sure you wanna use that language with me?” Joel’s deep voice was tinged with an edge, giving you the chance to retract your expletives. You were never so outright with your denial, never wanting to deny the man a few feet away. But the way in which you had expressed it to an obviously exhausted Joel was maybe too bold for the late hour. But you didn’t take it, instead repeating yourself.

“Kindly, fuck off. Don’t touch me.” You pulled away from him, hunching lower under his hand to break the contact.

“That’s not much better, ya know.” Joel’s hands shifted to his waist, a thick brow raised as he took in the sight of you nearly balled up, the faint light of the screen lighting up your face as you ignored him.

A harsh contraction of your muscles had you groaning out, “I wish I never met you.”

“C’mon now, you don’t mean that.” Joel huffed, trying to keep his calm, but you knew it was hard for him even if you really didn’t feel all that good. You never took your pain or frustration out on him like this, it was always soft murmurs of ‘hold me’ or ‘can I borrow your warmth’. Never the way you were reacting now.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into y-“ His mouth snapped shut, eyes focusing on the screen. On the words you had typed into the search engine. Normally he would tease you over the typos, your fingers not working as quick as you mind for all the grace and focus you normally had to expertly wield a sharp knife.

Your heart thumped at the sudden silence. The fizzling tension that had filled the room.

“Don’t!” You gasped out, slamming the laptop closed and shielding the device with your body completely.

“Darlin’…” You swore you could hear the cogs turning in his head. Thinking back on the depraved as desperate way you had been seeking him out when he returned home from a late shift at the restaurant even despite the haze of sleep, in the mornings before you had to peel yourself away to go to campus, the photos you had brazenly sent him without warning that had him shielding or turning his phone over throughout the day. Thinking back on the way you had been inhaling food at any occasion, none of your normal contemplation or silence after what you considered a binge. Thinking back on the way you had begun to complain of your work clothing feeling wrong and too tight on your aching body as you dressed in the morning.

When he moved to sit on the other side of the couch, far too close for comfort, you shied away and pressed your back into the arm on your end.

“Not gonna touch ya, you have my word.” He raised his hands placatingly, his expression so soft that the tears burst from you without warning.

“You do-don’t wanna touch me. Not anymo-more.” Hiccups jolted your body, making the skin you were already uncomfortable in tingle. “I ruined ev-everything.”

He regarded you with a small frown, his plush lips pulled down as he clasped his hands together in his lap. Just as he opened his mouth to speak the words flew from you.

“I remember what you said, on the line.” You narrowed your eyes at him as they echoed in your head.

‘It had been a slow day, prep and cleaning taking over most of the evening shift. It had been back before you had taken on a role in the kitchen. Sneaking fries from the bowl of them on the expo line. They hadn’t been hot or even salted, but they were better than snacking on the fruity garnishes at the bar.

He had been passing the time with who you hadn’t known at the time was his brother, Tommy. Who had driven into the city to help take a look at the empty lot beside the restaurant, both of them contemplating the construction of a patio. But they had ended up in the kitchen, hunger too strong a call.

While Joel was on the line, Tommy was beside you, sneaking fries with a wink in your direction. But you ignored him, focused on looking through the catalogue of one of your vendors. Trying to make a seasonal menu. But your ears caught the harsh grunt of the man your eyes trailed over in the midst of busy nights.

“Wouldn’t do it, no.”

“C’mon, you seriously tellin’ me you wouldn’t baby sit for me if I were to gift you with a niece or nephew.”

“No, ‘m too old. Hire a babysitter.”

“You’re full of it ‘n you know it.”

“Brother, a baby is a lot of work. Now, your baby? Even more so.” Joel leveled his brother with a look that silenced any other argument on the matter.’

The moment he realized what you were talking about, his brows flew up into his hairline and he breathed out a hearty chuckle.

“Darlin’, I was just givin’ him a hard time. You gotta know that.”

“I didn’t know you.” You stood up from the couch, body protesting the movement. Cupping a hand over your mouth, you breathed harshly as you tried to tamp down a bout of nausea. “And now that I do, I’m gonna have to consider literally everything on my own and I’m gonna hate how much it hurts to not know you any longer. I wish I-“

“No,” He sighed, brow furrowing before he pinned you with a serious expression. “You do know me now and I wouldn’t turn my back on you, on this. I’m in it, pretty girl, no matter what you decide to do.”

When you whipped away from him, shuddering breaths wracking your sore body, the crack of your voice on a sob spurred him into motion. His arms came around you slowly, giving you the chance to retreat if it wasn’t something you wanted. But you let him, the feel of his chest warm and soothing on your aching back. The push of his soft stomach comforting. His chin hooked over a shoulder, and he spoke in such a somber tone.

“Darlin’, I always thought I was too old to do this again. But I haven’t crossed fifty quite yet and the thought of you carrying my child, of loving me and my child. God, I would give anything for it to be our future. To see you blossom into yourself more, to show our baby the same devotion you give to everything in your life, you deserve somewhere to put all your love.”

One of his hands moved over the one you had on your middle. Holding you so secure, holding you both so secure.

“Joel…it’s a lot. It’s….we’re not even-“ You turned in his arms, facing him. His beautiful, open expression so full of love and adoration, all of it for you. Your heart melted in your chest, dripping low to flutter in your stomach. You weren’t even overtly religious, left over from the trauma of your childhood. Of being forced to attend mass and important holidays alongside your grandparents. The denial of your father never urging you to seek out a higher power in replacement. But the thought of technically being single and going through something like this. It made you afraid.

“There’s a ring in my sock drawer. Got it the day of our first do over date. ‘s why I was so close to the campus. It’s yours. I’m yours. This could be yours. But only if you want it.” Joel’s forehead lightly thumped against yours as he pressed in close. His breath a warm wash over your face, smelling faintly of cigarette smoke.

Looking between each of his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitancy from him it was quiet. When you didn’t find any, you felt a smile pull at your lips as you nodded your head in affirmation. Wet laughter bubbling up as his lips pressed to yours, a smile of his own for you to feel on them.

“But I still expect you to propose, can’t skip any steps with me. I know you think you’re hot shit with being crowned the city’s most prolific chef of the year but I swear to-“

He cut you off with another kiss, his moustache ticking your upper lip as he nipped at your bottom one.

“I don’t wanna miss any steps with ya, darlin’. I’m here for ‘em all.”

It was hard to ignore the stirring of other feelings in your body, drowning out the aches and pains. But when realization hit you, you pulled back with wide eyes.

“We’re gonna have to stop drinking and smoking!”

“We?”

taglist: @tuquoquebrute @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @76bookworm76 @hiddenbabynyc @clevergirl74 @anavatazes @samiamproductions @sarap-77 @honeyedmiller @undercoverpena

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myownwholewildworld · 4 months ago

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wherever you go (a joel miller’s ff) - chapter 4

chapter 3 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 5

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader.

a/n: hiya! i already mentioned all of this in my snippet post, but i'll do so again. in this chapter we are going down some dark path. probably not wise considering how shit has been going down as of late in the pedro pascal fandom. i have tried to write this chapter as sensibly as i could given the circumstances reader is in. i know this is a sensitive topic so please, PLEASE, read the warnings before you go ahead. i promise i'll make it up to you guys in the next chapter. other than that, i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! i love engaging with you guys. take care of yourselves <3

warnings: MDNI, 18+. please proceed with caution. if any of the following warnings trigger you, skip this chapter. DARK THEME. r4pe threats (it doesn’t happen, but still). death threats. mention of voyeurism. unsolicited dirty talk. slapping. reader is humiliated. derogatory terms (bitch, whore). swear words. masturbation (m to himself). body shaming (well deserved though). blood. violence. gore bc joel loses his shit. murder (but it’s okay because i say so). soft!caring!joel. pet name (dove). reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n. joel's and reader's pov.

w/c: ~2.3k.

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

Joel groaned, face down on the ground. His head hurt like hell, to the point where he could not even open his eyes. A drilling pain on the back of his skull pierced through the whole way to the space between his eyebrows. He squeezed his eyes, in an attempt to clear his sight, before opening them. The whole world spun around him like a merry-go-round ― he felt like throwing up.

He motioned his hand backwards to where the searing pain was coming from, only to find a new source of aching ― his right shoulder felt like it was dislocated, but the reality was that he had been shot.

I have been shot, he repeated in his mind.

Why though? He couldn’t remember what had happened nor where he was.

“Joel! What the fuck is going on?!”, Tommy’s voice forced him to close his eyes again. He kneeled beside Joel, putting pressure on his shoulder. “Where is she?”

Where is who? he wanted to reply.

And then it hit him. You both gave in to your passion, and he ruined it by labelling it “a mistake”. And then hell broke loose ― his last memory was your screams before you were dragged away.

Consciousness flooded back into him. Joel sat up quickly ― too quickly as his head pulsed in excruciating pain.

“Easy, Joel”, said the younger Miller, removing his hand to inspect the wound and tying a piece of clothing around the shoulder to contain the bleeding. “The bullet has gone through cleanly. You’re going to need to take care of that wound but should heal just fine”.

“They’ve taken her, Tommy”, Joel managed to mutter.

Doom washed over him. He felt sick to his stomach at the mere thought of what your destiny might be. He should have paid attention; he should have known you both were being watched. But at that moment in time he was thinking with his cock, not with his brain. He put you in harm’s way. He knew he shouldn’t have exposed you like that. He would not have done it had he known someone was spying on you both.

His last words to you basically meant that you were a mistake he regretted. His heart contracted so hard at the realisation of what he had said, his lungs evacuated all air within them. Where those going to really be his last words to you?

Joel gulped down the knot in his throat. He truly was a damned man. Everyone he touched, died. His deceased wife, Sarah, now potentially you too.

Death might be her best way out, that intrusive thought scared the shit out of him. He shook his head at the idea, in denial.

“Who have?”, Tommy asked. Joel could hear fear in his brother’s voice, mirroring his own.

Joel stood up with the help of Tommy and touched the back of his skull, finding the sore spot. It was wet ― blood covered the palm of his hand, which he cleaned on his jeans.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. If something happens to her, I swear to fucking God, Tommy, I will―”.

Tommy nodded in understanding and handed Joel the rifle and his jacket.

You were finding very hard to come back to consciousness. Your thoughts were a tangled mess, not being able to connect them in a way that made sense. You felt like you had been sleeping for ages, but it had only been five minutes. Your heart was beating slowly on your chest, your breaths shallow.

You heard two male voices nearby. For a second, you thought they were Joel and Tommy. But even in your semi-conscious state, you knew it wasn’t them. You managed to open one eye, looking around. Memories started to crawl back ― you and Joel fucking like the world was ending, him being a prick once again, then the gunshot, Joel falling to the ground, two men approaching and taking you away. Your heart began to race.

Was he alive? He had to be. He couldn’t have died. You would know, you would feel it in your guts. You felt like your chest was being crushed. No, he can’t be.

“God, I am gonna come”, you spotted the first man you saw, the one who shot Joel, jerking off besides you.

Had you been fully conscious, you would have retched when he cleaned the cum off his hand on your T-shirt.

“She was fucking that guy like a whore, she won’t mind if we use her for a bit”, said the second man. “I bet her cunt is still fucking wet. But we should wait for the others to get here first”.

You were slowly coming back to your senses, starting to understand the gravity of your situation. By the way they talked, it was pretty clear what their plans for you were. The prospect of being raped awakened your fight-or-flight instinct, your brain racing with thoughts, trying to come up with an escape plan. Either you fled, or you died trying.

You were sat up, your back against a tree, your hands loosely tied up in front of you. You rubbed one hand against the other, the right one slowly coming off the knot.

“I want to fuck her mouth so bad ― I don’t think that lucky bastard did”, you were not sure who said it, but you didn’t care.

“With such a small dick, I bet you I still would have plenty of room in my mouth to be able to talk unbothered”, you couldn’t stop the snarky remark.

The first man didn’t take your comment very graciously, probably ashamed of such a small dick. He slapped you with such force, the ring on his finger slashed the skin on your right cheek. You fell to the ground on your belly, your hands becoming free in the process, which you hid under your body so that monkey of a man wouldn’t notice.

“We’ll see how much you laugh after we’re finished with you and leave your broken body somewhere for your boyfriend to see”, he threatened with a laugh, touching himself again. "Open up, bitch".

He grabbed you by your hair, forcing you to face him, his ridiculously tiny dick too close to your mouth. You pulled away from him with all your might, releasing yourself from his grasp.

Although you put on a mask and pretended this was not affecting you, you were so fucking frightened. Your survival instinct kicked in again when the same ape tried to snatch you by the T-shirt as you slithered away, partially ripping it. You turned around quickly and scratched his face ― your nails sinking in his skin as deep as you could. You thought you hit his eye ― and you wished him blind. You growled like a cornered animal when the second man approached you, while the first one was on his knees wailing like a newborn baby.

“So you’re a fighter, huh?”, he chuckled.

When he got close, you knocked him off his feet by swinging one of your legs sideways under him. That was your chance ― and you took it. You got up and started running, the second man shouting blasphemies while going after you.

You had only run like five yards when a gunshot echoed in the middle of the night. You ducked and tripped, falling to the ground.

You looked back and saw that guy face down on the dirt, not moving. The back of his head was blown to pieces, half of it had disintegrated into thin air. Blood and brain bits had started to soak the leaves under him.

Then you saw Joel a few feet back, rifle on hand, Tommy just a few metres behind him.

You sighed with relief.

Joel had one look at the state of you and wished he hadn’t shot that man. He should have suffered a more terrible death. He felt anger ―no, fury― burning up his insides. Joel was seeing red, not being able to tame his feelings back under control. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins with solace ―you were alive― but also with rage.

“Man, we’re sorry, I’m sorry, it’s not what it looks like, I had nothing to do with this”, begged the man who had shot him ten minutes earlier.

Joel slowly turned around to face him. The asshole was on his knees, his left eye bleeding profusely, trousers pulled down and his micropenis dangling out of his underwear. With his eyes fixated on the poor excuse of a man praying on the ground, Joel handed the rifle to Tommy and unsheathed the folding hunting knife he kept in his boot.

“No, please, I promise you I didn’t touch her, I would never―”, his pleading fell on deaf ears.

“You fucking liar”, Joel said under his breath, positioning himself behind the kneeled man.

Joel grabbed him by his hair, pulling his head backwards to expose his neck. He could see tears on the edges of his eyes. He was young, probably around twenty, but Joel didn’t give a fuck. He deserved to die. Joel unfolded the hunting knife by removing the safeguard, placed it under his chin and slit his throat slowly but steadily. The man gagged, desperately trying to fill his lungs with oxygen ― his hands had flown to his neck in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but blood was pouring out like a fountain.

Joel looked at him dead in the eye until the man’s arms fell to his sides. When he was sure that motherfucker was dead, he let go of the head, the body making a thudding sound when it hit the floor.

Only then he dared to look in your direction. He wasn’t ready to see you down on your knees, dry tears on your cheeks. You looked like a baby deer in the middle of the road at night, blinded by the headlights. One side of your T-shirt was ripped from top to bottom, one of your breasts showing. You were not moving, your big eyes widened in shock.

Joel did not want to imagine what had happened to you, but he saw semen on your T-shirt and his brain started wandering off to the darkest of places. He was frozen in place for a few seconds before finally approaching you slowly, afraid you were going to step back away from him. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. He put away the knife before kneeling in front of you ― his hands, palms down, up in the air.

“Are you…?”, he didn’t finish the question because it was obvious you were not okay.

“It’s okay”, you answered immediately.

Joel gave you a puzzled look.

“No, it’s not fucking okay”, he whispered.

Then reality dawned on you. Your body had been on high alert this whole time, your instincts forcing you to put your feelings away so you could focus on the task at hand ― escaping as unscathed as possible. It wasn’t until those men were dead and Joel faced you, that you allowed emotions to take over you.

Your eyes welled up, your entire body shaking as the adrenaline abandoned your system.

“I… I don’t… It’s just…”, you couldn’t form coherent sentences.

Joel closed the distance between you two and hugged you. You buried your face in his chest and sobbed silently for minutes on end. His left hand stroked your hair as he held you and whispered calming words in your ear. When your eyes dried up, you looked up at him through damp eyelashes and he swept away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, the rest of his fingers gently placed on your jawline.

“Your cheek”, Joel’s lips wrinkled as he hovered his thumb over the wound.

You could tell he was trying to control himself, but as the seconds went on, he got calmer.

“Can I?”, he muttered, looking down to your teared T-shirt.

You nodded and he helped you take it off. Joel blocked Tommy’s vision with his broad body while he removed his jacket and helped you put it on, discarding your dirty T-shirt to one side.

“They didn’t…”, you tried to explain, your bottom lip trembling.

“We don’t need to talk about it now, only when you’re ready ― if you’re ever ready”, he spoke softly.

You greatly appreciated he didn’t push you for an explanation of what had happened. You were not sure you could talk about it without breaking down again. You breathed in deeply and nodded again. Then you noticed the blood on his shoulder. You raised one hand, softly touching the improvised dressing.

“You’re hurt, Joel”, you mumbled.

“It’s nothing, it’s not even painful. Let’s go back to the cave. You need to rest and I need to clean that wound on your cheek before it gets infected”, said Joel while helping you up.

You saw Tommy in the distance ― he had been kind enough to give you some privacy. Joel guided you through the trees, his left arm firmly wrapped around your waist to aid you in your walking.

You didn’t get too far though, not even with his help. Your legs were so wobbly you were afraid you couldn’t stand any longer. Joel saw you struggling and with no hesitation whatsoever, he picked you up in his arms to carry you to the cave.

"You're gonna hurt your shoulder even more, Joel", you complained.

"Nonsense", he whispered, softly kissing your forehead.

You did not protest after that again and hugged his neck, your face hiding in the curve of his neck.

In his arms, you felt safe. Your haven on this twisted, revolting earth.

“One of the men said they were waiting on more people to arrive”, you remembered suddenly.

Joel briefly looked down at you. You could tell he was controlling his face expression.

“Don’t worry about it, dove. I’ll take care of each one of them”.

That was a promise he kept religiously.

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semisgroupie · 11 months ago

Text

LOVELESS

rin itoshi x fem. reader

wc: 4.9k

warnings/contents: slow burn (kinda not really), strangers to lovers, unprotected sex, very soft sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, oral sex, l-bombs, mutual orgasm, casual rin and shidou bickering, isagi being a wingman, rin is guarded bc of an unnamed ex, spit, praise, slight overstimulation

synopsis: rin thought he would never be able to open his heart to love, it all quickly changed when you stumbled into his life

a/n: this is for my love @blueparadis for snow’s christmas gift exchange!! i have never been so excited to receive a random pick and i really hope you love this piece, my love

Rin never thought he could open his heart to love someone. He never thought someone could love him. These were thoughts that he held true to his heart.

Yes there were people that were interested in him, people that wanted some of the fame and fortune that came with the role of being Rin Itoshi’s partner. He was aware of their intentions before they could make it known and quickly shut down any possibility of interest on his end. There were some people that genuinely wanted to be with him, genuinely wanted to be his lover with no ulterior motives but he turned them down as well. As a pro soccer player, he had no time for love.

Well, he did have the time for it, he just convinced himself that he wasn’t deserving of it.

The one time he could say he loved someone, his heart got crushed into a million pieces. He never wanted to experience that feeling again, he never wanted to feel vulnerable. So, he cut off anything that could ever be remotely romantic.

But there was a side of him that wanted to know what it was like to love someone and have them love you back. He wanted to know the joys of having someone by your side to support you through thick and thin. He wanted to open his heart again but that nagging voice in the back of his mind overpowered everything.

His teammates were aware of everything. Even though Rin kept his heart and feelings sheltered, there were telltale signs of how he felt. They noticed the way his eyes lingered whenever he saw a husband and wife push a baby carriage along the street. They noticed the longing expression on his face when they were greeted by their partners while he was on the side. So, they decided that if he wasn’t going to put himself out there, then they would do it for him.

That was what started the series of failed blind dates. Each of his teammates and friends had someone to set him up with and he was able to find a flaw in every single person. The closest success story was surprisingly Shidou’s pick, an editor that Shidou used to go to school with. Rin enjoyed his conversation with her over dinner and some drinks and he believed that everything was going perfect. Then she started nagging about her ex that Rin somehow reminded her of and any flame of hope quickly burned out. When he reported the news of the date to his teammates they all decided that matchmaker wasn’t the role for them.

It was another day of practice before a big match. Rin was hitting perfect marks as usual and solely focused on getting better. After practice Shidou strung his arm over his teammates shoulders, “so I was thinking, why don’t we go drink? Some of the other guys already want to go and I’m not taking no for an answer.” Rin rolled his eyes and moved Shidou’s arm off of him, “if you already planned on dragging me there, why bother asking me?” Shidou shrugged and laughed as he walked into the locker room.

Rin hated going out for drinks. Shidou always got too rowdy along with Bachira and he would always end up babying them. Or he would get stopped by drunk fans who wanted as many photos as they could possibly get from him and he didn’t want the smell of their cheap booze sticking to his clothes. But Shidou was persistent and knew where he lived (and somehow had a spare key), so he couldn’t just hide away in his penthouse.

He showered and drove straight home to get ready for the night. He rummaged through his closet, taking out a black silk shirt, jeans and casual dress shoes. He styled his hair just slightly and left a few buttons open before slipping on a silver chain. He looked at himself in the mirror then went to grab his go-to cologne and spritzed it on before his phone went off. It was a text from Shidou telling him the address of the club and to hurry, the message just made him roll his eyes as he put his phone away and grabbed his wallet and keys before leaving.

After a short drive he parked in the parking lot of the bar he often frequented with the rest of his team and friends. He got out of the car and walked inside to see Shidou and Bachira down four shots one after another. “There’s the golden boy! Come on and drink.” Shidou’s words were slightly slurred and he made his way over, greeting everyone else that was there.

The time passed with nonsensical banter and drinks and more people started to filter in. Rin leaned against the wall near the booth where everyone else was sitting and looked around. He saw too many familiar faces of the locals that frequented the place and then turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. He nodded along, not paying much mind to what was being said and his eyes still wandered whenever he saw the door open. “Well I think the golden boy here might just end up alone and single forever if he keeps going the way he’s going. I set him up with a nice girl a few weeks ago and that failed.”

Rin rolled his eyes and narrowed them at Shidou, “if you actually listened to what I said then you’d understand why it didn’t go well, you antennaed freak. She started talking about her ex and how I reminded her of him and it was a pain to deal with, just like how you’re a pain to deal with. Now I’m going to get another drink.”

With that he moved from his position and headed back to the bar counter, leaning against it while he looked around. The door opened again and for once he didn’t recognize the people that walked through. Well he did recognize two of them, just not you. His eyes followed the group and when you looked over, he quickly snapped his head back to the barkeep. After a few moments he looked back and saw where you had gone to sit. He felt like a creep for staring so much but there was just something that kept pulling him back. It’s like you had some magnetic force around you that just kept attracting him.

He got a new drink and looked over as you got up from your seat and headed to the other end of the counter, watching as you ordered some drinks for your friends and yourself. He sipped his drink and furrowed his eyebrows when the bartender came back and set down a shot then pointed to you. He looked down at the glass then looked over at you as you smiled then made your way over to him, leaning against the counter as you stood in front of him.

“You know, it’s pretty rude to stare at someone for so long and not even think about approaching them. But I’m assuming you must be deathly shy so I wanted to come and break the ice a little. I’m Y/N.” You stuck your hand out to him and he took your hand in his to shake it. Your skin felt soft and he smelled the hints of your perfume. “I’m Rin and I’m not deathly shy but thank you for the drink.” You raised an eyebrow at his reply and smiled, “really? So you just eye down every single person that walks into this bar? Kinda creepy if you ask me.” You joked and he cracked a smile. It felt different to have a genuine reaction to someone and it felt good to know that he didn’t have to force anything.

More drinks came and the conversation flowed between you two effortlessly. He quickly forgot about everyone he was with and you did the same. He learned a lot about you, you just moved to the city for your new job, you’re a writer just waiting for your big break and the best news of all: you’re single. It was the best time he was having in a really long time, everything flowed naturally and he couldn’t get enough of you.

But all good things come to an end.

One of your friends came up and pulled you away, you quickly apologized to Rin and he went back to the rest of the guys. Shidou was practically blackout drunk and he sighed as he got closer, it meant that he had to go take Shidou home. “I’m gonna take this one back home, it was good seeing you guys.” He offered everyone a small smile and hooked Shidou’s arm over one of his shoulders and helped drag him out of the bar. As he started driving, he cursed himself and Shidou, he should’ve found a way to get your number or some social media but it was too late. But someone else was already on the move for him.

You were talking with your friends about the cute guy you were chatting up when someone approached the table. You looked up at him and you were met with bright blue eyes. “Hi, I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m Isagi, one of Rin’s friends and I noticed how you two were talking for quite a while and knowing him, I’m sure he didn’t get any contact information from you before helping our friend back home. If you don’t mind, can I get your number and send it to him? I understand if it’s weird to ask this but he looked interested and I have never seen that expression on his face.” You thought about it for a moment before holding your hand out for his phone, you typed your number down and handed it back to him. “Make sure he texts me soon, I’d really like to see him again.”

Rin got the message containing your phone number as he was driving home and he almost lost control of the wheel. He felt nervous but also felt excited. There was something new that he was going to explore and he wasn’t sure what the outcome would be. But he could say that he was looking forward to whatever memories he could make with you.

When he stopped at a red light he quickly added your number to his contacts and sent you a quick message, apologizing for not asking for your number himself. You replied fairly quickly and the conversation continued fully when he got home.

As the days passed, text messages and voice notes turned to phone calls that lasted for hours on end, which then turned to FaceTime calls which finally led to the planning of an actual date.

Rin felt more nervous than he ever felt in his life as the days winded down. He always hated the thought of a first date, they were always awkward and uncomfortable. He bought a bouquet of flowers that he had the florist arrange and you looked stunning. The nerves that were buzzing throughout his body quickly faded and the date went by smoothly. He had never felt so comfortable with someone so quickly and he started to enjoy the feeling of it. He was looking forward to seeing you more and he was looking forward to what the future would hold for the both of you.

But there was still something holding him back.

After the fourth date he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. Since then you two have enjoyed being with each other. He looked forward to games knowing that you would be in the stands, wearing his jersey and cheering him on. You looked forward to his days off because you two would watch movies and eat junk food (you mostly ate it while trying to convince him to eat some), go to museums, try new restaurants and other things. The days and the months passed fairly quickly and before you knew it, you two were reaching the six month mark.

He had planned the day out, he had gotten you an outfit and took you to your favorite art museum then took you to your favorite restaurant for dinner. He had also rented out a movie theater and had them prepare your favorite movie. Well, that was what he had planned.

Everything was going smoothly. He took you to the museum and had dinner with you. While you were on your way to the movie theater, you two were talking and you blurted out those three special words. He was taken completely off guard when they left your lips and he froze in place. You looked at him and furrowed your eyebrows. “Rin? What’s wrong? I mean, you don’t have to say it back now but I just want you to know that I love you.” His heart banged against his chest and he let go of your hand. More confusion painted your face and he shook his head. “I-uh, I think we should just stop now. I can take you home if you want but I can’t continue.” He was unsure of the words that left him but his mouth just kept moving as if it was separated from his body.

Your heart felt like it was crumbling. “Are you breaking up with me?” You felt tears brim your eyes but you blinked them away. Pain swelled in your chest along with another feeling that you just couldn’t describe yet. “I just think we should slow down, this is too much at once.” You scoffed before you could realize it and took a step back. “Slow down? Too much at once? We’ve been together for six months and this is just how I feel. I don’t know what happened to you in a past relationship but that’s not me. I’m not them. I noticed you were cautious as if you were walking over a broken bridge while you’ve been with me but I can’t fix that. I wish I could but I can’t. You know, I have loved every second I’ve spent with you Rin but if you want to end things over me telling you my honest feelings, then we shouldn’t be together. If you want it to be over then it’s over, I’ll take myself home.”

You turned away from him and started walking, you didn’t want to give him the time to try to convince you or talk you out of something. When you felt like you were far enough you looked over to hail a cab and as the ride started, you let the tears spill from your eyes. Your heart felt like it was broken and you couldn’t believe it, everything was going perfectly with Rin and in an instant, the perfect image shattered. You just couldn’t wait to go home and wallow in self pity.

On the other hand, Rin was still frozen in place as you left. He wanted to go after you, he wanted to apologize and most of all, he wanted to tell you that he loves you too. But he couldn’t do it, you were gone by the time he could finally move. So he just started walking back to his car and so conveniently, rain started to come down. He didn’t bother to run or move faster so he could hide from the rain, he accepted it. The rain could mask the tears that began to spill from his eyes. He finally got inside of his car and he started driving. As he drove he thought about your words, you weren’t wrong. He was holding himself back and was very much aware of it. He hesitated to do things with you because he didn’t want to be vulnerable but he didn’t think it would lead to this.

You’ve been the best thing in his life and you just slipped through his fingertips. And he did absolutely nothing. That was what frustrated him more than anything, he knew how he felt about you and he just brought the end of your relationship. He was about halfway home before he started to drive into the direction of where you lived. He pressed on the gas a little faster and tapped his fingers against the wheel. He didn’t know what he was going to do when he finally saw you but he had to do something.

He parked nearby and ran to your building, luckily someone was on their way inside and was able to get in and ran up the stairs to your floor. He ran to your door and banged his fist against it. He couldn’t even guarantee if you’d open the door for him but he just hoped you would.

After a few minutes you opened the door, wearing one of the shirts you stole from him and you furrowed your eyebrows when you saw him. He was completely soaked from the rain and his breathing was heavy. “What are you doing here? What happened to you? Come inside before you get sick.” Even though your heart ached, you couldn’t drop all your feelings towards him in an hour. You opened the door more to let him in and once he walked inside, you shut the door. You went into your linen closet and grabbed a towel for him and handed it to him. He watched you closely the entire time, you looked so cute in his clothes and it made him feel a little better knowing that you still wanted to have something to do with him, even if it’s something minor.

You looked at him and saw that his eyes looked a little puffy and red. There was no way he could’ve been crying. You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the nearest wall as you waited for him to say something.

He took a deep breath and licked his lips, “I don’t know what happened earlier. There’s no excuse for my reaction earlier but I do have to say that you’re right. I have been guarded and I built a wall. The last time I fell in love with someone, they used me for my reputation and wanted to build themselves up, then they decided to cheat on me with another professional athlete. I was with them for almost two years and it fucking hurt. I know you’re not like them, you’re genuine, you’re not afraid to show yourself and your true emotions. Do you know what I love most about you? I love how your entire face lights up whenever you see something you like, even if it’s for something small like one of your favorite songs or a commercial you really like. It never fails to put a smile on my own face. From the moment I met you, I felt this connection to you and I have never felt such love towards someone before. I love you, I love you so much and it hurts me to know I hurt you. If you want to kick me out, if you never want to hear or see me again, I understand. I just want you to know, I love you and I’m sorry.”

To say you were taken aback wouldn’t be able to describe how you were feeling. You couldn’t think of what to say so you let your actions speak for yourself. You took a step closer to him and gripped his wet shirt in your hand and brought him closer to you until you could smash your lips against his. He instinctively brought you closer to him as you two kissed, it was rough and passionate, both of you conveying all of your emotions into it. He kept you close to him, it was as if he loosened his grip on you, he would lose you again.

Finally you broke the kiss to catch your breath and you lifted your hands to cup his face. “Your clothes are soaked, we should get you out of them.” Your words also had an alternate meaning that he quickly picked up on. He lifted his shirt off and dropped it on the floor then looked at you, “your clothes are wet too, I don’t want you getting sick on me.” You nodded and mimicked his earlier actions, all you wore underneath the shirt was panties, so your chest was on full display for him.

He felt his cock twitch at the sight of your tits and groaned. He felt them over your shirt in the past during a heated makeout session but seeing them was completely different. He moved his hands up from your hips and cupped your breasts before gently massaging them. “So beautiful.” He mumbled under his breath and you let out little whines and whimpers. Each sound that came from you made his cock twitch and ache more and more. But he couldn’t do more like this, he wanted to do it properly.

He leaned down and tapped your thighs, “jump.” You jumped up and wrapped your arms and legs around him while he held onto the globes of your ass. He started walking to your bedroom while you peppered kisses along his jaw and neck. Once he was inside your bedroom, he laid you on your bed and started trailing kisses down your body, nipping and sucking at your skin until he reached the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you as he hooked his fingers under the waistband and slowly pulled them down, kissing down your hip and legs until your panties hit the floor. He kissed up your legs and kept your legs spread with his hands until he reached your pussy. “So pretty.” He groaned and leaned in to lick a stripe up your slit, keeping his eyes on you as he did so.

He groaned against your slit before diving in, eating you out like a man starved. His fingers pressed into your thighs as his tongue alternated from your clit to your entrance. You writhed and moaned his name as he continued his assault with his tongue and moved one hand down to his hair, lightly tugging on the strands. He pulled away for air for a moment, a string of saliva connecting his bottom lip to your slit and he licked it away. “You taste better than anything I’ve ever had, baby.” He moved his hands to each side of your pussy and used his thumb to spread your lips, he watched how you clenched around nothing then leaned in close to spit on your pussy before going back in. His cock throbbed and he couldn’t help but start grinding against your bed for some relief.

You wanted to tell him that you wanted to make him feel good too but you were consumed by pleasure and the look in his eyes told you that this moment was all about you. You brought your hand back to his hair and threaded your fingers in the strands before you started to grind against his face. He dipped his tongue into you and his nose brushed against your clit with each thrust of your hips. Your mouth fell open and your eyes rolled back. “Rin—fuck! I’m close.” Your words came through bated breaths and he continued to tongue fuck you. You clenched around his tongue and arched your back completely off the bed as you came undone. Your legs trembled around his head and he didn’t let up. He continued to help you ride out your orgasm and once you relaxed completely he pulled up. Your juices and his saliva coated his lips and chin and he panted.

His bright eyes had darkened with lust and his cock throbbed. “Can I please fuck you?” He reached down to grip his cock over his pants and your eyes followed. “Fuck me Rin, I need you.” You bit your lip and he quickly shed the rest of his clothes. His cock was hard and throbbed as it was exposed to the air. He lined his cock with your entrance and dropped his head to spit on your pussy before sliding into you. He gripped the sheets next to your body tightly and gritted his teeth as he pushed more of his cock into you.

When he bottomed out he leaned down to kiss you, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he started thrusting. His movements were slow and methodical, he wasn’t just fucking you, he was making love to you. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours as he thrusted. “I’m sorry for making you cry. I’m sorry for making you doubt my love for you. I’ll never do that again for as long as I live. You mean too much to me, you’re my light in the darkness, you’re my beautiful flower, you’re the air that I breathe. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He whispered his words as he continued to thrust, he didn’t want to pick up the pace yet. He wanted you to feel him and wanted to keep you close to him as he made you feel his love.

“Rin, I love you. But please give me more, I need it please.” You sounded so pretty as you moaned and begged him for more, he just had to push any lovey dovey thoughts aside for a later time to give you what you wanted.

He leaned in to kiss you once more then adjusted his position and lifted your legs over his shoulders, pressing a kiss to one of your ankles. “I’ll get you a pretty anklet soon, wanna hear it jingle while I pound this pussy.” He reached down to grip your hips and reeled his back until only the tip of his cock was inside you then slammed into you. The action alone made your toes curl and you cried out his name. Then he repeated the action over and over again. The tip of his cock hit your g spot perfectly with each thrust, sending you deeper and deeper into an abyss of pleasure.

Even Rin was vocal. The words of praise slipped through his lips effortlessly. It was a side of him that you wanted to see more and it turned you on to no end. Your back arched and you clenched around his cock tightly as another orgasm was ripped out of you. His hips stuttered a little but he quickly went back to the brutal pace. He was a professional athlete after all, his stamina was through the roof.

Your headboard hit the wall repeatedly and you knew that you would get a noise complaint from your neighbors in the morning but you could care less. He leaned in a little and gripped the headboard, using it as more leverage to slam into you. Each heavy thrust made you cry out his name and your legs shook more from overstimulation. “Rin! Rin! So good, feels too good!” Tears brimmed your eyes as he slammed into you and you were already on the verge of another orgasm. So was he, his cock throbbed as he continued to pound into, just begging for release. He moved his other hand to your mouth and pushed his thumb past your lips, he dragged the digit along your tongue then pulled it out to press it onto your clit.

The added stimulation alone was enough to send you tumbling into another orgasm and he finished shortly after you. He had half a mind to pull out and only realized it when he was halfway through emptying his balls into you. He gripped the headboard tighter and bit his lip as his hips jerked involuntarily then looked down at you. He moved one hand to caress your cheek and smiled, “are you okay? Was I too rough?” He slowly pulled out of you and stood up.

“I’m okay Rin, I promise. You were perfect.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead then walked out, first heading to the kitchen to grab some water and a granola bar for you then headed to the bathroom and wet a rag before heading back into your bedroom. He opened the bottle and opened the wrapper before handing both to you and started cleaning you up. You watched him with a smile and stuck out the other half of the granola bar to him, “you need to eat too.” He leaned in and took the half into his mouth to chew it and laid down next to you.

“I am really sorry for earlier and if you give me another chance to be a proper boyfriend, I promise to make you happy.” You took a sip of the water and leaned in to peck his lips. “I’ll give you a million chances before I’d be completely done with you. You’re Rin Itoshi, the man who stole my heart.” You pecked his lips again and leaned into him, a sense of relief washed over his body and he wrapped his arms around you. He would never mess up again, not with someone who filled the hole in his heart. Holding you in his arms he knew that he could be loved and that the love you had for him was a mirror image of the love he had for you. Nothing could ever convince him otherwise.

taglist:

#blue lock smut #bllk smut #rin itoshi smut #tw:unprotected sex #tw:creampie

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 3: I Wanna Be With You Everywhere

Summary: Javi drives you home after a backyard barbecue. You invite him up so your time together doesn't have to end, but lucky for you, your night is just beginning.

Warnings: IT'S HAPPENING! Smut (18+), protected P in V sex, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal fingering, praise, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, kissing, language, mentions of food, Javi being the biggest, sweetest, softie (bc he is head over heels for you) but also GODDAMN (this man knows how to make you feel GOOD and wants to do it over and over)

Word Count: 8.1K (oops, sorry)

A/N: These two have no self control LOL. This chapter was very fun to write. Killing myself slowly with how cute these two lovebirds are because they are both the biggest assholes and the biggest softies.

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“You ready?”

Javi sat himself down in the driver’s seat and turned his gaze towards you.

“I think so, I didn’t find anything in the truck that indicated any sort of serial killer tendencies, so I’m feeling a little more confident I’ll live to see another day after you take me home.”

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Javi placed the keys in the ignition and started up the truck. The radio softly played in the background as you very thoroughly explained the directions on your 3 minute drive back to your apartment. As you reached the end of Maria’s street, you began pointing, “Okay, so you’re gonna take a left at the stop sign, and then-“

“Cariño,” Javi replied, gripping the wrist of your pointed finger and pulling it back down into your lap. “I promise I didn’t forget your very detailed directions from 30 seconds ago. Left at the stop sign, turn right on 3rd Street and then another right just past the car wash.” His hand shifted to interlace his fingers with yours and gave your hand a slight squeeze, as if to reassure you that he really did remember. Although you sat quietly for the next two minutes, feeling a little embarrassed by excessive need for control, Javi’s hand never left yours.

Finally, you pulled into the parking lot of your apartment as Javi turned to look at you. “See? Promise I told you I’d get you back.” You hand unlocked with his to undo your seatbelt and give him a playful shove, causing both of you to smile.

“Do you wanna come up?”

The words had come out of your mouth before your brain even had time to think about it. Shit, shit, shit. Was that way too eager?

“Sorry, I just meant-“

“Yeah, I’d love to, if uh, if that’s okay.” You looked at each other with looks of relief. “Plus it would make me feel better knowing that you made it into your apartment okay. Don’t want you falling asleep in the stairwell because your leg gave out on you.”

“If I do, it’s coming back on you. You’re the one who cleared me to walk, remember?”

Javi opened up the driver’s side door, hopped out, and made his way around the truck. You did the same, opening the passenger side, but before you could get yourself out of the car, Javi was standing in front of you, holding out his hand to help you down.

“You know I can-“

“I know you can get out of the car yourself. I also know you can get up the stairs by yourself. Believe me, you have proven that if there’s anything that you want to do, I’m sure you’d figure out a way to do it. It won’t kill you to let someone help you, Osita. Please?” He motioned back down to his extended hand.

You knew he was right. You hated to admit it, but he was. Growing up, you had spent your childhood proving to your brothers you were tough enough to fit in. In school, you were determined to get good grades and get into a good college. Your whole career was centered around giving every piece of yourself to help teach your students without giving a second thought to yourself. Hell, you wasted 3 years of your life with Paul trying to prove to yourself that you were worthy of being loved by someone who couldn’t have given a shit about you. You were the helper. The doer. The fixer. Never once had you considered the fact that there would be someone who would do the same for you.

“Okay. Thank you.” You replied sheepishly, barley raising your voice above a whisper. Your hand extended to meet his as he gently guided you out of the truck. You started walking towards the apartment stairs, Javi trailing closely behind you.

“I’ve started to pick up on some Spanish since being here, and I’m trying my best to learn more. I’ve heard hermosa and cariño, but I’ve never heard Osita before. What does that one mean, big pain in my ass?” You turned back to look at Javi, giving him a mischievous look as he started to smirk.

“Osita means little bear. Someone who’s sweet, funny, maybe a little bit stubborn-“

Half way up your next step, you stopped to turn the entirety of your body around to face Javi in shock. “Are you serious?”

“Would you have rather me called you a pain in my ass?” He responded laughing, even though there was a slight tinge of panic in his face, thinking you were upset with the nickname.

“No it’s just, I, really? It really means little bear?” You stared at him in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah?” Javi now looked even more confused.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. My family’s nickname for me as long as I can remember has been bear cub. Growing up, my favorite animal was bears because I was obsessed with the Chicago Cubs, and my parents agreed that the obsession matched what they lovingly deemed my tenacious personality.”

“I’ve got you read like a book, Osita.” Javi rested his hands on his hips, tilted his head and winked at you.

“Oh shut up.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you turned your back to Javi to continue walking up the stairs to your apartment. “You haven’t even read the first chapter.”

“Well, then I can’t wait to read the rest of it.”

Knowing Javi was behind you, only able to see your backside, you bit down on your lip and let a grin spread wide enough across your face to make your cheeks hurt.

Finally reaching your door, you shuffled through your bag to pull out your keys and unlock your door, revealing the interior of your apartment. You set your keys and bag down in the dish that sat on the table at the entrance of your doorway. Javi followed, letting the door shut behind him, watching as you neatly set away your belongings.

“Welcome!” You said, giving a Vanna White like gesture to the inside of your home. I’m really sorry, I really have to go to the bathroom, but make yourself at home and I can give you a tour in just a second. There’s beer in the fridge if you want any!” You made your way through your living room and down the hallway, peeking your head out around the corner. “Don’t get lost in here.”

Javi looked around as he heard the bathroom door click shut behind you. Waking through the dining area of the kitchen near the door, he was surprised how warm and homey your apartment felt, despite having only been there a few months. He wandered into the living room, resting his hands against the back of your couch, covered in pillows and neatly folded blankets. In front of the couch was a TV, sitting on top of a stand filled with various CD’s and VHS tapes organized in color order. On the top shelf was your music collection, Javi noting your extensive collection of CD’s from Queen and The Beatles. Underneath, your movie collection was stashed, containing both an entire Indiana Jones and Star Wars box set, along with what looked to be like a few animated movies and several other classics.

A picture of you and your family at the beach sat on top of a bookshelf next to the TV. Javi picked it up to get a closer look, taking a little extra time to stare at how good you looked in the yellow bikini top you had on. He roamed closer to the hallway at the end of the living room, peeking down to see another doorway that he assumed was the bedroom. The bathroom door was still closed, and with a burst of confidence and curiosity, Javi quickly snuck down the hallway to try and take a peek before you came back out.

Your bed faced the doorway, covered in a light yellow comforter and cream colored sheets. Hidden among the pillows was a very worn and tattered stuffed bear, flopped over due to its lack of stuffing. Taking a few more steps through the doorway, Javi noticed a dresser across the room with a mirror on top to the right of the bed, scattered with a few more photos and accessories, all carefully organized. Across from that was a closet left wide open, with an uncharacteristic pile of clothes sitting at the bottom of it.

“Find what you were looking for?”

Javi just about jumped out of his skin as he turned around to see you with your arms crossed, standing in the doorway.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Ya know, for a former DEA agent, you are not very sneaky.”

“No sorry, I wasn’t trying to… shit, I’m sorry I-”

“Javi, it’s okay.” You could tell he was clearly flustered. “I really don’t care at all, I trust you. Really it’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. You sure you don’t need the bathroom next because I’m pretty sure you were about to shit your pants.” You sat down on the edge of your bed, laughing to yourself as you watched Javi regain his composure. With each breath he took to calm himself, the air in your bedroom grew thicker with tension. His eyes looked you up and down, tongue darting out between his lips.

“Well, the only thing I did find that surprised me was the pile of clothes on the floor, considering everything else in your apartment looks like it’s set up to be a model home.” He began to move closer, his gaze fixed on you.

Your eyes mirrored his, soaking up every detail of the broad handsome body in front of you. “Well I was trying to pick out something to wear today, and I ended up going through more than a few outfit changes”

He was now standing in front of you, his deep brown eyes piercing yours. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because I, um, I-”

“Why, hermosa?”

“I’d been thinking about you all week. I wanted to look good when I saw you today.”

You stood up from the edge of the bed, your bodies now inches away from each other.

“Osita, fuck, you looked gorgeous today. I couldn’t take my eyes off you from the moment I saw you.”

His big hands slowly slid down the length of your body.

“You would have looked amazing in anything you wore…”

His hands stopped at your hips, reaching around your frame to grab under the curve of your ass, leaning his body into yours, placing a kiss on your neck. He left a few more on the way up towards your ear.

“… but I bet you’ll look even better when you have nothing on.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck, as he swiftly lifted you up, causing you to wrap your legs around the small of his back. This kiss was different from the one you had shared just hours before. Your mouths met one another’s in an intense passion, crashing together as you ran your hands through the curls of Javi’s hair, pulling him closer into you. You let out a moan, just long enough for Javi’s tongue to enter between your lips. Walking towards the bed, Javi laid you down and began planting a trail of wet kisses down your body. He reached your breasts, pulling the fabric of your dress down to expose them, noting you weren’t wearing a bra as they freed from your dress. “Jesus, no bra? Fucking gorgeous tits.” He hissed. His kisses then continued, stopping at your nipples, sucking and flicking each one with his tongue, making a “pop” sound after each time his mouth left your tits.

The throbbing between your legs was intensifying, causing breathy moans to escape from your mouth. Javi was sitting on his knees at the edge of the bed, his hands and kisses trailing down your stomach, coming closer and closer to your entrance.

“Javi,” you moaned. “Please touch me.”

Javi paused his trail of kisses and looked up with a devilish grin. “Patience, Osita.” He slowly pushed up the hem of your dress, his hands grazing your thighs. Hooking his fingers around the edges of your drenched panties, he pulled them down, leaving them hanging around your ankles.

“Hermosa, fuck, you’re so wet for me.” You could feel the throb of your pussy as your wetness pooled around your heat.

“You want me to touch you, baby?” You nodded rapidly, letting out nothing but a whine at how badly you needed him to ease the ache between your legs.

“Words, Hermosa.”

“Please, Javi, please touch me.”

His fingers teased around your entrance, gathering the slick and bringing it up to circle around your clit. He circled slowly, watching you gasp as his fingers traced through your folds. Finally, he sunk one digit inside you, making you whine as you threw your head back in pleasure.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy.” Javi mewled as he began to pump his finger in and out as his thumb traced around your clit. Slowly, he slipped in a second finger causing you to grasp at fist fulls of your bed sheets. His fingers felt so deep inside you, deliciously curved to hit that spot inside you that made you squirm in delight. You could feel the pleasure building in you. With the pressure on your clit and the rhythm he had pumping in you, you could feel yourself tightening around his fingers. Your moans of his name became louder, a trail of “fuck, Javi” trailed from your lips as he hit the perfect spot inside of you.

“You’re so fucking wet, do you feel how wet you are for me?” Javi’s voice rasped.

“Yes, Javi,” you whimpered. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You could feel the pressure beginning to build in you, causing you to clench down harder around Javi’s fingers, edging closer and closer towards your release.

“I know you’re close, Osita. It’s okay, you can let go. Come for me, baby.”

That sent you over the edge. You felt yourself gush around Javi’s fingers, screaming his name as your cunt throbbed in delight. You breathed heavily, panting as you came down from your high, Javi’s finger’s still slowly pulsing inside of you as you rode out your orgasm.

“Did so good for me, Osita. Been thinking about this all day. Wanted to make you feel good.” You whined as Javi’s fingers left you, making his way back up to engulf your moans as he kissed you. You could feel the bulge of his hard cock in his jeans rub against you as he pulled your mouth closer to his.

Javier Peña had arguably just given you the best orgasam of your life, yet you craved more. The feeling of him hard, pressed against you had you reeling. After what he had done to you with just his hands, you had no doubt this man could make you feel things you had never felt before. Except there was one problem.

“Javi?”

“Yes, Osita?”

“I… fuck-”

“Osita, are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” Javi had immediately pulled away from you, sensing the change in your demeanor.

“No! Oh my god, no Javi! You just made me come harder than I ever have in my entire life. It’s just that… Oh my god this is so stupid.” You buried your face in both your hands to try and hide your embarrassment.

Javi pulled your hands off your face, brushed a piece of hair out of your face and slid his hand down to cup the side of your face. “Whatever you have to tell me isn’t stupid. Please, tell me. It’s okay.”

You took a deep breath. “I like you, Javi. Like, a lot. I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but you are the most handsome man I have ever met and you’re sweet and caring and I really like spending time with you.” You paused. Javi looked at you, curious as to how what you were saying was stupid. He nodded at you, knowing you had more to say. “I just, ugh, I just, I really want to see you again and spend more time with you, and believe me, I REALLY want to have sex with you, I just don’t want you to think I’m a terrible person for wanting to fuck before we’ve even gone on like, a date. I haven’t had sex in a long time and I don’t know, I promise I’m not normally this type of person and I-“

Before you could finish, Javi’s mouth was back on yours, swallowing the rest of your sentence with a tender kiss. You had only spent a few hours together, yet it had felt like you had known each other for years. He had watched you laugh and smile and she listened intently to what he had to say. You radiated a genuine warmth and compassion, patience and understanding as Javi opened up a brief glimpse about his past. You were the first person who had looked at him and hadn’t seen the broken, tired man he had written himself off to be. Now here you were, trying to apologize for seeming like you may not be enough for him? You were something special, and Javier Peña knew at that moment he would spend as long as he needed to try to prove that to you.

“That’s it?” Javi asked you laughing.

“What do you mean, that’s it?” It was now your turn to look confused, surprised at how nonchalant Javier was about what you had just said.

“That’s what you were so worried about telling me?” You nodded your head and looked away. Javi grasped under your chin to pull your gaze back to meet his. “Osita, I meant what I said earlier when I told you that this was the best day I’ve had in a really long time. You’re gorgeous and smart and funny as hell. I would be an absolute idiot to say I didn’t want to see you again.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Believe me, I want to fuck you so bad too, and I definitely don’t think any less of you because of it. It’s been a while for me too, and if you don’t want to do anything else right now, I totally understand. I’ll wait until you’re ready, Osita.”

You could feel your heart bursting out of your chest. You were so relieved you could cry. This man was really too good to be true. Grabbing Javi’s face, you rolled yourself on top of him and kissed him with intensity. You could feel both of your smiles as your mouths met. Javi ran his fingers through your hair as you pulled up to look at him.

“You promise?”

“I promise, Osita.”

“Okay, good, because I’m pretty sure if I go any longer without having your dick inside me, I will spontaneously combust.”

You both laughed as Javi rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You’re fucking ridiculous, Osita.”

“I’m being serious. No man has ever made me come that hard and you expect me to go about my day not wondering what else you have to offer?”

Javi sat up, pulling you into his lap so that you were straddling him as his hands wrapped around your hips. “Never, huh?” His voice now at a low whisper, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the heat between your legs as you gently pushed yourself harder into Javi’s lap.

“Scout’s honor.” You winked as you ran your fingers through the dark curls of his hair, bringing your breasts closer to his face. He moved his hands from your hips to knead the soft mounds, sucking each one before moving his mouth down to lick at your pebbled nipples.

You could feel how hard his dick was straining against the zipper of his jeans. Your hands began to roam down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt, exposing the soft, tanned skin underneath. Once the buttons were undone, he shed the shirt behind him on the bed, then prompting you to lift up your arms and take off your dress, leaving you completely naked sitting in his lap.

“Fuck, hermosa. You’re so fucking beautiful.” He said, almost half whispering to himself. He ran his hands up and down your body, reaching down between your legs to draw lazy circles around your clit.

Flinging you off his lap and throwing you back down onto the bed, he kneeled at the edge, face to face with your dripping heat. Propped up on your elbows, you watched as he dove in like a man starved. He wrapped his arms under your thighs as he licked a long strip, making you gasp. He slowly worked his way around your folds, sucking and pressing into in a way that had you bucking your hips into his face. Seeing how worked up you were, Javi slowly slipped a finger inside, easing some of the emptiness you were so desperate to have filled. You moaned his name as he worked around your sensitive nub, licking and sucking like his life depended on it. Again, you found yourself on the brink of pleasure, feeling it build in your stomach as Javi continued to work you up. You ran your hands through his hair, pulling gently on his curls as you reached your breaking point, moans filling the walls of your room.

“You taste so fucking good, hermosa.” Javi looking up at you grinning, his mustache covered in your slick. “Anyone ever made you come like that before? Taken care of you like that?”

Still blissed out and panting, you shook your head. This man was a menace.

“You still want me to fuck you, Osita?”

“Please, Javi. Please, holy shit I want you so bad.”

“Needy girl. I’ll take care of you baby, don’t worry.”

Standing up and looking over you, Javi undid his belt, the clanging of the buckle slowly followed by the dropping of his pants, leaving him in his underwear. You sat up to palm his boxer briefs, his bulge hard and heavy in your hands. Kissing his stomach, you hooked your fingers underneath the waistband and shimmied them down off his hips.

Oh, fuck.

What revealed itself was Javi’s dick, bobbing after being freed, hard and leaking with precum from its tip. After feeling him rub against you and cupping him from outside his underwear you had a suspicion he was bigger than normal, and boy, were you right. Holy shit, his dick was big and it was gorgeous. The thought of it filling you made your pussy throb.

You reached over to your nightstand and opened the drawer to pull out the box of condoms pushed in the back corner. Javi took them from you, opening the wrapper with his teeth and tossing it off to the floor on the side of the bed. He rolled the condom down his length before lining up with your entrance. He leaned down into you as he ran his cock through your wet folds.

“You ready for me, cariño?”

You nodded and both of you gasped as you felt the sweet stretch of Javi inside you. Javi had already made you come twice- any wetter and you might as well have been a faucet. Even then, the feeling of him pushing his length into you filled you up in a way you couldn’t have even imagined. After slowly making his way all the way in, you whimpered as you felt him bottom out.

“Javi, holy fuck.”

“I know baby, I know. Such a good girl, Osita. Taking me so fucking well.”

He began to slowly increase his pace, letting you adjust to his size. Your jaw was slack as he continued to thrust into you, filling you up in a way you had never felt before. You moaned breathlessly as Javi brought his hand up to your mouth, bringing his thumb in between your lips and swirling your tongue around it. He took out his thumb and brought it down to your clit, circling it as he continued to pound into you. At this point, the sounds coming from you were absolutely obscene as pleasure radiated through your body.

“Doing so good for me, baby. Fuck, you’re so tight and wet.” He grabbed behind your knees and pushed them up towards your chest. The new angle hit in a sweet spot that made you whimper his name as his hands dug into your hips.

“You feel so good, Javi. Oh my god. Fuck.”

You looked up at him, sweat glistening on his forehead, making his dark curls stick to him. His grunts were accompanied by a devilish grin, loving how you were coming unraveled for him. You could feel the pressure building in your belly once again, expletives falling from your mouth. Javi leaned down into you, biting at your neck and whispering in your ear.

“I’m not gonna last much longer, Hermosa. You feel too fucking good. Need you to come again. Think you can be a good girl and soak my dick when you come?” His filthy words were simultaneously accompanied by his thrusts hitting deeper into you and his thumb rubbing faster against your clit. You nodded and moaned, completely at a loss for words with how good you felt. You were so close to the edge, his cock stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as he hit that sweet spot in you over and over again. Your legs shifted to wrap around his back, wanting to pull him as close into you as possible. “That’s it. Give me one more, baby. Come for me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m gonna-”

You snapped, your orgasm flooding your body as you screamed his name. Pleasure waved through you as you could feel yourself gushing down around his cock. You felt like your soul had left your body as you rode your high, breathless and blissed out.

Javi’s thrusts became faster and sloppier, knowing you had reached your end, now chasing his own. After only a few more pumps, he pushed deep into you one last time, and came with a loud moan, spilling into the condom. He slumped into you as you both breathed heavily, needing to catch your breath before either of you spoke. He slowly pulled himself out, causing you to shutter at the loss inside of you. He took off the condom and threw it in the trash next to your nightstand before crawling back up in bed to kiss you, your breathing still shaky and heavy. You laid your head on his tanned chest and looked up at his sweet, brown eyes staring back at you.

“What the fuck…” you laughed to yourself, euphoria running through your veins from the magic you had just experienced.

“You okay, Osita?”

“Javi, I am more than okay. I don’t think I have ever been more okay. My only complaint is that I’m about to look like Bambi when I try to get up because I’m not sure if my legs are gonna work.”

Javi chuckled to himself as he ran his fingers through your hair. “Well I appreciate the compliment, cariño. If I wasn’t such an old fuckin’ man, I’d be ready for round 2 right now, just gimme a few.”

You shot up, now propped up on your elbows. You cocked your head slightly. “I’m sorry, did you just say round 2? Are you trying to tell me that there’s more of this that’s about to happen?”

Javi stared back at you smirking, but a little bit confused. “Is that okay with you?”

You dramatically flopped back down onto your back, giggling and covering your face. “Is that okay with me? Is the sky blue? Is the grass green? You’re joking, right?”

“Not unless you want me to be, Osita."

“Well, I am not mad about it one bit.” You scooted over to him, now laying your naked body on top of his, cupping his face and kissing him. He ran his hands along your back, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his palms. Suddenly, you felt a gurgle underneath you, realizing that Javi’s stomach was grumbling. You pulled away from your kiss, laughing.

“Sorry…” Javi mumbled.

“Are you hungry?”

“No it’s fine, just ignore it.”

His stomach rumbled again, this time louder than the first. You sat up, trying to contain your giggles. “Javi, you can tell me if you’re hungry.”

“Okay, maybe I am a little hungry.”

“Good, because I am too. Something was a little too distracting to keep me from eating at Maria’s.” You leaned in to kiss him once more, then nibbled at his ear to whisper “The distraction was well worth not eating.”

Your words sent shivers down your spine, as he let out a low grunt. “Osita, fuck, you sure we have to eat?” His stomach grumbled again.

“Your stomach says otherwise. Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth the wait” you winked, and shuffled yourself out of your bed. You reached down besides your bed, where all of your clothes had fallen off during your… activities. You shuffled your panties back on and reached down for one more item. “Can I put this on?” You said, holding up his unbuttoned shirt.

Javi nodded, the primal part of his brain igniting as he watched you slip on his shirt, leaving it completely unbuttoned. The image of you in nothing but his clothing left him speechless, his brain short circuiting. You. In his shirt. The thought of you walking around your apartment wearing his clothes had him half hard already. He wanted nothing more than to rip it right off you and pull you back into bed, but you were right, he really did need to eat.

He shuffled out of bed to join you, only putting back on his underwear and following you into the kitchen. You began shuffling through your fridge and your pantry, muttering under your breath, embarrassed by the lack of food you had.

“Okay, I don’t have a ton of choices. I’m really sorry, tomorrow is normally my grocery shopping day and with it being the last 2 weeks of school, there’s been a lot more take out than I’d like to admit. So let’s see…” you opened up the pantry and fridge again, pulling out items you deemed acceptable enough.

“I have…. Pasta, peanut butter and jelly, cereal, 3 eggs, an apple that probably needed to get thrown out a week ago and Mac and Cheese. I promise I don’t always eat like an 8 year old. I actually am a decent cook, next time you’re here I promise I’ll have better food”

Javi leaned his hip against the kitchen counter, smiling at the thought of “next time.”

“I couldn’t tell you the last time I had Mac and Cheese. Honestly, sounds delicious.”

“Alright, one box of my finest Mac and Cheese coming right up!”

You reached down into a cabinet to pull out a pot and fill it up with water and set it on the stove. As you turned around to set it down on the burner, you felt Javi’s chest press up against your back and his hands snake around your front. He leaned over and rested his chin on your shoulder after placing a quick kiss there first. “Do you need any help?”

“Yeah this stuff is REALLY hard to make. It’s gonna be HOURS before we eat because of all the prep time.” Still gripping you around your front, Javi playfully shook you, knowing there was really nothing he could do.

“Just wanted to offer. I feel bad not helping.”

You twisted your body around so that it was now facing him, feeling tiny drowning in his broadness. You snuck your hands around his waist to match his.

“It’s Mac and Cheese, no big deal at all. I’m sorry I don’t have better food. I’d love to actually cook for you sometime, to prove I’m more than just an out of the box Kraft Mac and cheese kind of girl.”

“I’d love that. Sure there’s nothing I can help with?”

“Hmmmm actually, I’ll give you the most important job. Do you want to pick out music? There’s a bunch of CD’s under the TV. We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I like having it on in the background.”

“Absolutely, Osita.” He pulled you in to kiss the top of your head before making his way over to your music collection. He scanned through the disks, pulling out a few he thought looked good. Towards the end of the line were a few burned CD’s in mismatched cases. The first one he pulled out had a good collection of songs, but read “David’s Mix” at the top. Wasn’t your ex’s name Paul? Who was David?

“David’s got good taste in music.” Javi tried to state as neutrally as possible.

“Oh yes that’s a good one!” You shouted from across the kitchen. “Don’t worry, David’s one of my brothers.” You responded, knowing Javi was probably curious as to who had given you the CD.

Javi plopped the CD into the player and turned up the volume before making his way back to the kitchen. “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac began playing as you finished dumping the noodles into the boiling water on the stove. “Very good choice. Queen is my favorite band of all time, but Fleetwood Mac is a very close 2nd.”

“One of my favorites too. This song might be my favorite one by them.”

The intro picked up its tempo as you picked up the spoon you were using to sing the first verse, holding it up as your microphone in between stirs.

“Ohhhhh woahhhhhhh, I wanna be with you everywhere!”

You continued to sing and stir, dancing and playfully nudging into Javi with your hip as the song continued. He smiled and bit down on his lip, enamored by the sight in front of him. The simple domesticity of the moment had his stomach swirling with a feeling he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. You, in his clothes, cooking together, playing music and laughing with one another. He racked his brain trying to think of a moment that had ever come close to this one he was experiencing right now, but there was none. Javi had written off ever finding something like this- it was everything he had ever wanted, and felt like he never deserved.

“Hey, you okay?”

Javi was completely lost in his train of thought as you reeled him back down to earth.

“I’m great, Hermosa. You’re cute when you dance like that.”

You hadn’t realized you were still swaying and nodding your head to the beat of the song as Javi was talking to you, becoming a little embarrassed. There was something about Javi that had made you let your guard down so quickly. Everything felt so easy with him, so natural. You had never felt this comfortable around anyone, let alone someone you had known less for a week. Just finish this damn mac and cheese, and don’t get too ahead of yourself, you thought, trying to reign yourself back in.

“It’s a great song, what can I say? You have good taste, Javier Peña. Speaking of good taste…” You held up the pot full of mac and cheese, now completed. “Food is ready!”

While you really liked your apartment, its one downside was its kitchen cabinets. You weren’t the tallest, and everything seemed to be about a foot too high for you. With limited space, your bowls ended up having to go in a higher up shelf, meaning every time you wanted one, you either got a chair from your kitchen table, or just climbed up the counter to grab them. Too stubborn and unwilling to ask for help, you started to scoot your way up to the kitchen counter to get what you needed.

“I uh, don’t want to be rude, but can I ask what the hell you’re doing?” Javi said, barely containing his laughter of watching you scale your cabinets like a little kid.

“Well I’m not very tall and we need bowls, and they’re all the way up there. Unless I decide to magically grow another few inches, this is the easiest way to get them.”

With ease, Javi stepped behind you, reached over your head and grabbed the bowls. You sat with your legs dangling off the counter, arms crossed as he set the bowls down and looked back at you. “Okay, we get it. You're tall and handsome and get bowls from the top shelf. Sorry we aren’t all perfect like you.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically.

“All you have to do is ask, Osita. As entertaining as it was watching you try to get up there, I don’t need you getting hurt again on my watch.”

You found yourselves in the same position as you were not long ago in Maria’s bathroom. He leaned in, hands planted on the counter around your hips, standing between your legs hanging down.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing. You did a very good job healing me.” Gesturing down to your leg. “Besides, you’re the hottest doctor I’ve ever had. It all really would work out in my favor.”

Javi leaned in to kiss your neck, peppering kisses down your body as his hands ran up and down your thighs. Suddenly, you found him crouched between your legs, one of his hands palming the outside of your panties, once again drenched.

“Javi…” you breathed heavily, trying to stay focused. “I’m pretty sure my neighbors can hear your stomach, you need to eat.” There was no way you were really going to try and stop him from whatever he had planned, but it was worth a shot.

“You’re right, Hermosa, I am starving.” His teeth grabbed the top of your underwear and dragged them down your thighs, leaving you exposed, slick dripping down you. “Just gonna have to eat a little extra first.”

Without an attempt to protest, Javi’s head was between your thighs, your legs resting over his shoulders. Taking long, broad strokes of his flat tongue against your clit make your hips buck toward his face. Flicking his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, you let out low breathy moans, followed by his name.

“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, it feels so good.” You reached down to grab his hair, giving yourself something else besides the edge of the counter to grip on to. His tongue danced across your heat, making you squirm in pleasure. Two callused fingers plunged into you, curled and stroking the spot that intensified your moans. With his fingers curved in just the right way, and his tongue sucking over your clit, it didn’t take long for you to once again find yourself reaching your peak. Your body pulsated with your orgasm, while Javi slowed down his pace as you came down from your high. Once you finally came back down to earth, you watched as Javi took the two fingers that were just inside you to his mouth, licking your release off of them.

“Taste so fucking sweet, Hermosa.”

“Jesus, Javi. You’re gonna kill me. Holy shit.” Your breathy laughter escaping you as Javi smiled back up at you, his mustache glistening with your slick. He grabbed you by the hips and slid you off the counter top. Kissing up your thigh, he pulled your panties back into place. He grabbed a handful of your ass and pulled you in to kiss you, his mouth still tasting like the sweet and salty combination of you.

“You ready to eat?”

Javi’s stomach didn’t lie. That man was hungry. You had filled his bowl first and brought it to him at your kitchen table. By the time you had filled up your bowl and went to go sit down, you were pretty sure his entire bowl was already empty. After he quickly finished seconds, (which was pretty much the rest of the pot) you had found yourselves talking, not even realizing how much time had gone by. The Mac and Cheese had brought you back to memories of your childhoods, sharing sweet and embarrassing stories of your lives long before yours had crossed paths. After playfully arguing that this truly did happen, you both had only gotten up to go back to your room to find your 1st grade school picture, proving to Javi you did in fact, draw a mustache on yourself with Sharpie to win a bet with your brothers.

“Told you. My mom was definitely not happy about this one. Although I will say, my mustache almost looks as good as yours.” You both snickered at the ridiculous image of you with a wide, toothy grin and haphazard sharpie smeared across your upper lip.

“Well, besides the mustache, you were a pretty cute kid.” Javi swallowed. In a flash, his brain had flashed forward. The strange feeling crept over him once again. A life with you. Together. Kids who looked like spitting images of you, running through your home. Was that something you wanted? Holy shit, was that something he wanted? Trying to do anything to shake the uneasiness and unable to form anything close to words, Javi leaned in, cupping both sides of your face for a long, tender kiss. You leaned into him, pushing his back on to the bed, his head resting against your pillows, as you rolled across his lap, straddling him.

“My sexy, sharpie mustache really turned you on, huh?”

Javi, still reeling with the feeling swirling inside of him, didn’t even pick up on your joke. “You’re so beautiful. So fucking sexy. Everything about you.” The thoughts in his brain now exiting his mouth just above a whisper.

You bit down on your tongue still in your mouth to try and contain your grin. You weren’t sure if Javi had meant for you to hear his whispers, but it didn’t matter. Without saying another word, you leaned down into him, kissing you way down his chest, grinding into the bulge you could feel growing in his boxers. Your hand palmed the outside of the fabric before tugging at his waistband, freeing his already painfully hard cock. “You gonna finally let me take care of you?” you began kissing around his thighs, causing Javi to let out a raspy moan. Your kisses ventured closer and closer, until you had reached his dick, licking your way up its length and wrapping your lips around the tip.

“Fuckkk, Hermosa.”

You released your mouth to lick down your palm, wrapping your fingers around the base of Javi’s length to satisfy what you knew you weren’t going to be able to fit in your mouth. Leaning back down, you worked your mouth around his girth, hollowing your cheeks, taking him further and further down your throat. Your head bobbed up and down, with Javi’s hand holding a fist full of your hair, guiding your head gently as you filled your mouth full of him. You could feel tears running down your cheeks as his cock hit the back of your throat. Your pace began to intensify, Javi’s grunts and expletives coming only turning you on more. All of a sudden, you felt Javi’s grasp gently pull you up, your mouth leaving him.

“Is everything okay? Sorry, was it not good?” Your voice still raspy from him being down your throat.

“No, fuck, it’s fucking amazing. I just don’t want to come yet, I want to be inside you. Can I?”

Frantically nodding, Javi reached back into your nightstand to pull out the condom box, ripping it, and rolling it down over his throbbing dick. Still straddling over his thighs, you worked your way up, sliding yourself down over his cock, slowly taking him inch by inch. With him being so big, it should have been a problem taking him without him opening you up first, but you were already so turned on from sucking his dick that you slid down his length with ease. He noticed it too.

“Fuck baby, already so wet for me. Sucking my dick really turn you on that much?”

“Yes, Javi.” Now slowly bouncing yourself up and down over his lap. “Your dick tastes so good. I want to taste all of you. Have you cum down my throat.”

The thought sent shivers down his spine. “Dirty fuckin’ girl. Soon, Osita. First I wanna have you come all over me. You look so pretty when you ride it.”

You rolled your hips back and forth, his cock filling you even deeper than it did before. Each thrust rubbed against the sweet spot inside you that felt so good. You threw your head back as you rested your hands against his pecs, whining in pleasure. With each movement, your clit brushed against his hair at his base. Javi noticing, he reached down to rub your already sensitive nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

“Fuck, Javi, you fill me up so good. It feels so good inside me.”

Your thrusts intensified, Javi’s dick punching into the spot that made you see stars. He began to rub your clit faster, realizing you were close.

“Come for me, baby. I fucking know your close. Can feel how tight you are around me.”

You felt yourself clench as every inch of him filled you. It wasn’t long until you reached your peak, gushing around him and screaming out his name, your pussy throbbing. While you still sat on top of him, he began to thrust up in to you, filling you even deeper. Only a few more strokes and he was close behind you. His low grunts were followed by a panting moan as his release pulsed into the condom. Breathless, you pulled yourself off of him, collapsing on to the bed as he rolled over to dispose of the condom. The smell of sex and sweat filled your room, your bedsheets tangled between you as you laid your head against the sheen of his chest.

“Okay, I will drop the alleged serial killer or secret family allegations that I put on you not that long ago. I am convinced you are a wizard because your dick is magic”

Javi snorted as he ran his hand through his hair before wrapping it over your shoulder. “I don’t know where the hell you come up with these things, Osita.”

“It’s true! Like I said, I think you’re trying to kill me, and my gravestone is about to read “death by Javier Peña’s dick.” Guess it’s not a terrible way to go.”

You both laughed again, as Javi rubbed his thumb back and forth over your shoulder. Silence filled the room in the most comfortable way, your bodies perfectly nestled into one another. You laid for a few more minutes before Javi noticed the alarm clock on your nightstand

12:46 AM

He didn’t want to leave, but didn’t want to assume that you wanted him to stay. Reluctantly, he spoke. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was this late. Sorry, I can go if you want-”

“No. Stay.” You didn’t mean for your words to come out like such a demand, but the thought of him leaving flooded your body with sadness. “I mean, um, you’re more than welcome to stay. I want you to stay.”

“Okay.”

Relieved at the lack of convincing, you nestled your head closer to his chest, pulling the sheets over your naked bodies. You felt so comfortable and at peace being wrapped up in his embrace. His hand migrated its way through the tangled ends of your hair. Content, you felt the weight of your eyelids grow heavy, promising yourself you would only close them for a minute, not wanting to miss out on any time with Javi. It wasn’t long until you were fast asleep, your bodies intertwined as one.

“Today was really one of the best days I’ve had in a long time. Thank you, Osita.”

No response. He repeated it once more, thinking maybe you didn’t hear him. Again, no response. He lifted his head up to your lids closed tight and your mouth half open as you let out a gentle snore. It had only been minutes and you were out cold. He laughed quietly to himself as he kissed the top of your head. “Dulces sueños, Osita.” (Sweet dreams, little bear). He laid his head into yours, closing his eyes and smiling. That night was the best night’s sleep Javier Peña had in years.

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