#my head is KILLING me but i've given up on sleep | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonlight-prose · 3 months ago

Text

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

�� 02. LOST IN TIME AND SPACE

a/n: logan angst with this fic is all i've been thinking about. mainly because he's the kind of man to swallow all of his feelings until it eventually kills him. so that's super fun to work with. and that scenario is basically this entire chapter. so please root for him, but also know he's not even close to dealing with his trauma. also the x-men timeline remains convoluted as fuck, so if the past of the logan who died doesn't make sense it is what it is. this is fanfic and we're all here to fuck him.

summary: the past is a thing he couldn't ignore. yet he still tried. and when the opportunity to spend a day with you utterly alone arises, he realizes that perhaps he doesn't want to forget about what brought him here.

word count: 6.6k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, angsty as fuck, some fluff, grieving a past he can never have back, logan goes through it, kissing, he's horny, me slightly abusing my literature degree, heartache, panic attacks.

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Logan never liked when the city fell silent. He hated the city in general. It unnerved him; scratched angrily against his chest until he couldn't find the peace he strived for. The city at night was filled with small noises—bangs in the distance, shouts of drunks wasted in the streets, and people finally turning in for the night.

They reminded him of the wars, the echoey expanse of nothing. Where every sound set his teeth on edge.

The cheap leather fabric of the couch stuck to his skin as he turned. He shoved his body into a standing position—his hands curling into fists. His skin remained sticky with a thin layer of sweat which only served to incense him further. Given the apartment's shitty air system, he'd be struggling through this for most of the summer. A fact he tried his best to ignore in the hopes that the fall weather would reveal itself sooner.

With a groan, he stripped himself of the thin tank top that clung to his skin. It didn't help to ease the humidity that hung in the air. It barely helped to cool off his body. But he'd take what he could get when what he could get was so little.

Wade's snoring echoed through the thin walls as he stood there, his body begging for a bit of sleep. Even if his mind refused to shut off. Images of you played through his head on a loop. The past was shadowed in pain, memories dipped in a venom he once wished would kill him eventually. Yet seeing you yesterday—a version that remained untouched by the depravity of what already happened—launched him back into a time that never seemed to be very far behind.

"You weren't there! And they needed you."

Silver ebbed from his knuckles as he faced the window—eyes shut and chest heaving. There was no question the sweat came from the humidity in the air. The cold chill along his spine however stemmed from you.

"You're not the Wolverine Logan. You're just a disappointment."

He fought the snarl that worked its way up his throat. A heavy pounding began to form at the front of his head. A drum he couldn't escape.

"Live with that."

If he opened his eyes. If he refused to give the memories even an inch of space in his mind. He'd have caught you standing there rummaging in the kitchen. A mug of tea forgotten on the counter the second you caught a glimpse of him getting up from the couch. You tugged at your sleep shorts as you stumbled towards the window—eyes heavy with sleep that simply wouldn't come.

Most nights it was easy. Long days at work left you utterly exhausted. To a point where staying awake felt odd and incomplete.

Tonight felt like hell.

No matter how many times you tossed and turned, you couldn't get the thoughts to settle. And all of them seemed to filter their way back to the man who currently faced you—his eyes shut and fists adorned with silver claws that slowly slid their way to freedom. You nearly dropped your kettle when he tore off his shirt, revealing sweat slicked skin lit up by the streetlights outside.

If you were braver you'd ask him to come over, join you in a sleepless night. But he had yet to see you standing there and you weren't one to draw attention to yourself.

So you stood and watched as he fought with whatever must have woken him up so late in the night. You witnessed his battle and wished you could be the one helping him. Maybe then he'd finally fall asleep soundlessly. His mind clear—body free of phantom aches from injuries that still haunted him. He may heal incredibly fast, but the mind...that took far too long to piece itself back together.

Before you could turn away, back to your now cold mug of tea, his eyes opened. Fixating immediately on your form in the window.

Few people in his life were able to calm the thunderous storms he weathered in his own mind. Jean and Charles did what they could. They brought back what he once thought was lost forever. Even you attempted to ease him from what he lived through—what he endured.

But that seemed to be the one thing your variant self was unable to comprehend.

He didn't need someone to fix him. He wanted someone to see him. To understand that there was no cure for a person this broken, no easy way out when things got this bad. He stood before you as a man riddled with far too much—scars that you'd never be able to see—yet he could see no hesitation in your eyes.

Something pulled at his stomach at the sight of you in small shorts and a tank top. Your skin exposed to the city as you watched him carefully. You analyzed him in a way that didn't make him want to put up a facade. And he found he liked it when you looked at him like this; with a burning need to know more clear in your gaze.

Your eyes trailed up his stomach, lingering on the hair that dipped down into his sweats. He wanted you to be here. Or him to be there. The location didn't matter as long as he could reach out and touch you—feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm.

Minutes passed before your gaze found his face and Logan felt an itch in his body at the notion that you were fascinated by him. That even in a different universe with completely different memories, you couldn't help but be drawn to the man he was.

The horror of destroying another version of you should have made him want to turn away from the window.

Then you smiled.

A slow sleepy grin that lit up your face. You probably didn't think anything of it—simply a small offer of kindness in your shared sleepless night. Logan however swallowed it down as if you'd given him the best tasting whiskey on this planet. His chest tightened, head dazed as you stood there looking with enough reverence to kill him.

If only he could see the way your insides melted at the sight of him smiling back. The thoughts of lust and like racing through your mind the longer you stood there.

Eventually the sun would come up, you'd be called to work, and this would become a brief passing memory you'd both hold onto down the road.

Until that moment though you remained in this spot. Fighting the drowsiness for a chance to watch him a bit longer. To trace your eyes along his body and soak in the expressions that played across his weary face.

You could feel the prick of sleep in your eyes, your body dizzy as it begged for you to finally give in and crawl back into bed. Yet how could you leave him there? How could you walk away?

He seemed to catch the way you bit back a yawn and chuckled. Pressing his hand to the warm window, he nodded at you. To anyone else on the street it might look nonsensical—comical even. To you his message was loud and clear: Go to bed and I'll be here in the morning. I promise.

Reluctance yanked at your heart when he nodded again, his hand falling back to his side. Yet no matter how hard you tried to keep yourself awake—if only to steal another second of his gaze on your body—you knew it was futile. Fighting sleep never went well in the morning when coffee was your only salvation. With another smile, you waved slightly—pressing your hand to the window briefly as if to respond to his silence with some of your own.

Sleep well. I'll find you in the morning. I promise.

Logan woke up to the blaring horn of a taxi right outside. The shout of a man bounced off the buildings, cussing about traffic and for someone to get the fuck out of his way. He groaned, turning to his side in the hopes of catching another thirty minutes. But the city was alive and thrumming with its own heart beat.

To others the echo might have been familiar—peaceful.

To Logan it was like nails being dragged along a chalkboard.

"I fuckin' hate this city," he growled, getting to his feet and snatching his tank top from where he'd left it last night.

Surprisingly the apartment rang out with a sound he had yet to experience in this place. Silence. He peeked in the bedrooms briefly, expecting to find Wade still passed out. An empty room was all that greeted him—the fucking stuffed unicorn propped up perfectly on a surprisingly made bed. There was only one reason Wade tidied up his room.

Vanessa.

She was coming by here or Wade was going with her. Either way Logan didn't want to be around to hear what came next. He'd been privy to one too many nights of Wade reconciling his differences with Vanessa and all of them ended with Logan's head beneath a pillow. That or he snuck out to wander the city at night until he finally returned to a quiet apartment.

For a brief moment he wondered if he could find you at your place; his eyes settled on the view of your window across the one way street. The lights looked off, the living room empty. And he craved to know where in this city you disappeared to during the day. Where did you work?

Would you mind if he visited you there? If he took some time to hear your voice, see your smile.

He grabbed the shitty coffee bag that was tossed on the counter. No doubt due to Wade making some this morning. The machine was old, nearly broken, but it would make do for the time being. A neon yellow sticky note was stuck to the top—the scrawl of Wade's handwriting familiar.

Good morning peanut! Coffee is hot like you. Don't call me. Don't beep me. Because you don't need to reach me today. If you do, I'm at Ness's scoring for tens all across the board. I'm talking the head—

Logan groaned, crumpling the note and tossing it on the counter. Knowing information that Wade would probably tell him anyways wasn't how he wanted to start his afternoon. The cabinet creaked as he opened it, the plain blue mug he claimed as his sat in the front.

Another yellow sticky attached to it.

OF CHAMPIONS. I knew you wouldn't finish reading the note you gorgeous Canadian/Australian bastard.

P.S. Sweet angel's number. I was told to give it to you.

P.P.S. GET. SOME. (For the both of us.)

A crude drawing of Deadpool fucking the air was scribbled in the corner. The details were far too graphic for him to look at longer than a few seconds. Logan would have tossed the entire mug in the trash, but your number enticed him to stick it to the fridge as he made coffee strong enough to make the hair stand up on his arms. He glanced at it every few minutes, tracing the numbers as he considered what this meant.

Was this you telling him in simple terms that you wanted to get to know him? That his past and whatever he buried was something you wanted to learn.

His gaze burned a hole into the yellow paper as he drank his coffee, his mind racing at the possibility of speaking to you today. Some cash was stowed in the trunk Laura dragged from the previous Logan's home. Her claim was that he deserved to have it. Since he might have understood what it meant more than she did.

From what he could tell this universe's Logan was saving up for something—the wad of cash in the bottom of the trunk remained enough for him to get by until he found a stable place to set up a home. Somewhere near the mansion that still existed. He wasn't prepared to be a part of that life again just yet, but that remained the only spot that felt like home to him.

Even in a different universe.

Snatching the note off the fridge he grabbed his flannel, boots, and enough cash to last through the day. He had no location in mind. But knowing you wanted to spend time with him became the motivator he needed to actually leave the apartment.

The city was bursting with life—sounds filling the air as if it would replace the oxygen they consumed. He did what he could to ignore it. Slipping past people with ease, his eyes fixed on the small store that sat on the corner. He debated on ordering from the cafe across the street, wondering if you liked the place. If you came here for coffee and breakfast on days off.

He made a note to ask.

Thankfully the shop wasn't crowded with people—a shitty pop song blasted over the speakers. One he knew Wade would play to piss off your next door neighbors. Whether or not you actually liked Wade's music taste never crossed his mind. Or did you go along with it? Willing to do what it took to make them suffer.

"Just this," he grunted, tossing enough cash down to cover the bill and then some.

The burner phone was small in his palm as he yanked it out of the box and flipped it on. He didn't bother with getting an actual phone. What the fuck did he need that for? But this...he could do to make you entering his life a bit easier.

Every part of him screamed to push you away—make you hate him—but for the first time in his life, Logan didn't listen.

The shop door swung shut behind him as he dug out the sticky note, punching your number in carefully to not miss a single digit. Somehow in the midst of chaos, he was able to shut off the city noise when the phone began to ring. Half of him expected you not to answer. It was the middle of the day, you were at work, and this was probably more a hindrance than anything else.

Your voice filtering through the small speaker put his worries at ease within seconds.

"Hello?"

His heart jumped as he exhaled. "I hear you gave Wade directions this morning."

"Logan?" you asked, voice louder than before. The echo of someone shushing you came through, making him smile.

"Hey Honey."

A shaky breath left your lips. Logan felt his stomach clench at the realization you liked when he called you that.

"I didn't know you had a phone," you replied, much softer than before. "Wade told me you were too old for technology."

"Don't listen to anything that mouth tells you."

You laughed, breathy and cute, and he bit back a groan at the sound. "I'm glad he was wrong."

"He normally is."

"Where are you today?" Shuffling and a door shutting caught his attention as your voice rose in volume again.

A horn went off beside him, piercing his hearing. "Standin' on the street."

"Near our places?"

Oh he liked the sound of that. "Mhm." Another soft breath reached his ears; he felt his body go warm. "Where are you today honey?"

"Work." If he could see through the call, he'd catch you smiling. How your teeth dug into your bottom lip to stop the embarrassing giggle that nearly spilled free. "Do you...um...do you want to see it?"

The words slammed into his chest like a truck. The innuendo nearly enough to make him drop to one knee here in the middle of the street. And suddenly Wade's note came back to his mind. The crude drawing flaring to life as he pictured you saying those exact words in an entirely different situation. If he was a better man his jeans wouldn't have tightened. If he was a better man he'd have ignored it altogether.

Logan wished he was a better man. You longed for him not to be.

He cleared his throat, his grip tightening around the phone. "Where?"

"New York Public Library."

Vaguely the directions came back to him from decades past. He wondered if the building sat in the same spot on this universe as his own. In a rush of words, you gave him some instruction. He agreed to be there as soon as he could.

"See you soon Logan." The excitement wasn't hard to pick from your voice. That still didn't stop him from trying.

"Wait–"

"Yes?"

He turned. "Rosemary's? You like their coffee?"

Another laugh escaped you in a breath and Logan felt the walls around his heart chip. "Love."

Twenty minutes later you were greeting him on the side of the building with a smile he felt down to his adamantium bones. A warm coffee was pressed into your hand, a sandwich tucked safely into a small paper bag in the other. For the entire afternoon he formulated things to say to you, stories to tell. Yet all that came now was an awkward smile and a greeting that made his chest burn uncomfortably.

You thought nothing of it. Even as you led him inside and asked him about his morning. The sight of him holding coffee and wearing a grin was enough for you to lose it a little. The breath knocking from your lungs, warmth spilling into your stomach.

"I didn't know what you wanted–"

Taking another sip, you grinned at the glimpse of red that dusted the tips of his ears. "I don't mind what you got."

A stain of soft pink remained on the cup; Logan's eyes attached to it within seconds. You could see the way his pupils dilated slightly—his throat bobbing at the sight of something so small and delicate. That didn't help the way your heart flipped whenever he was near. As if he'd taken control of all your emotions—all the baseline wants that you could normally ignore.

"What do you do here?" he rasped, focusing on the way you watched him. Though the glaze of sleep was gone from your eyes, the way you analyzed him still remained.

"Archives."

Unlocking another door, you led him down a flight of stairs. The elevator would have been the easier route, but he didn't possess a badge nor a library card. You were pretty sure he wouldn't have gotten one either way. So sneaking him in was the way to go until you could convince him otherwise. What you didn't know was that you could have asked anything of him—anything you wanted—and he'd agree without hesitation.

He followed close behind, unwilling to let you get a few feet away. As if he was drawn to you in ways that didn't seem possible.

"I work on making sure things are properly placed in the correct spot. Older books, newspapers from decades ago, stuff like that."

Humming, he watched as you opened the final door—letting him see the grand room that lay below filled with an infinite row of bookcases. Boxes that had yet to be gone through, files not placed properly, and piles of books that stacked on rows of tables. Each one contained a certain label of where they belonged.

"So a librarian?"

Laughing, you shut the door behind him with a soft click. "Kind of. I'm not working upstairs and handing out books like the actual librarians do. We hermits down in the basement prefer the term archivist."

"Hermits," he huffed. "You don't look like a hermit to me."

"Looks can be deceiving Logan."

That was a fact he knew too well. One that kept him up at night, replayed in his dreams without end. Oftentimes he wondered if he'd been the one to deceive. If his persona and reluctance to help gave others the impression that he was the man to turn to. The hero they needed. He never asked to be seen that way—never wanted it—yet when the time came...he couldn't run away from the truth.

The idea of telling you all this came to him last night as he watched you walk back to your room.

What stopped him was the image of the other you, grief stricken and horrified as he stumbled home from the bar.

"I have some questions for you." Your voice pulled him from his thoughts.

The small table in the back was free of books and you took a seat, pulling your sandwich from the paper. He took the chair across from you, his legs bumping into yours as he tried to cram them in the small space. The apology was quick to land on his tongue. Although your smile and the feel of your ankle curving around his leg killed it instantaneously.

"I'm hoping you have some answers."

He swallowed thickly, ignoring the way you shifted—your knee brushing his. "Now that depends."

"On?"

"Are they easy questions?" He grinned at the way you spoke around your mouthful of food—intrigue lighting up your eyes.

You slid half the sandwich towards him, not pretending to see the way he tried to refuse. He took a bite when your foot jammed in his calf. A pointed look crossing your face as if to say: eat because I know you haven't.

"What am I like?"

He nearly choked on the bread. "Do you mean..."

With a nod, you grabbed another bite, oblivious to the way his tongue swiped along his bottom lip. His eyes fixed on the way your teeth sunk into the meal and oil spread at the corner of your mouth. Tearing the sandwich in half would have been the better option. Biting where he mouth was seemed to be what you liked better.

His insides stirred deliciously, heat forming at the way your lashes fluttered at the taste.

"The other me," you mumbled, giving him the rest. "You said we were friends." When he didn't respond you kept going. "Wade alluded that we might have been...more than friends."

Fucking Wade Wilson.

Logan leaned back, his hand curling into fists in his lap as he once again fought the urge to take off. "He sure likes to run his goddamn mouth."

Anxiety sparked in your chest and you fell silent. Perhaps it wasn't the right time to bring it up. Or even something to bring up. Yet curiosity always ate you alive—the idea of not knowing the full truth. And when Wade briefly said Logan was still pining over a version of you that didn't exist on this Earth, you tried not to let it consume you.

You fought against your baser instincts in the hopes that one day he'd tell you himself.

Then he showed up. Offering you coffee and friendship and possibly more.

How could you ignore it then?

You knew he was watching you, could feel the burn of his eyes along the side of your face. Silence echoed loudly in the room as the old wooden bookshelves creaked and the chatter of people upstairs began to filter down below.

"I'm sorry," you uttered, doing what you could to move past whatever this was. "I shouldn't have asked. We can go look at some stuff if you want. I have newspapers from the seventies you might want to see–"

"I loved you."

You froze, head whipping around to meet his solemn gaze.

"On my Earth you were mine." With a sigh, he leaned forward. "And I fucked it all up. No I didn't just fuck it up. I ruined you."

"Logan..." you breathed. "I'm not them."

"I know." Sorrow flooded his hazel eyes—the grief playing across his face like a film you shouldn't be watching. And for the first time...you saw the man Wade spoke about. The broken version of a Logan that was found in a bar wallowing on his own world. "But I can't do that to you again. I won't."

This wasn't an omission of the truth. Nor a confession of his greatest sins. This was a promise lined with the guilt of his past. Memories of a time you'd never witness played out in his mind and he longed to show them to you.

To give you a piece of what he once had with a version of you that loathed his existence now.

But that isn't why he happened upon you on this Earth. History would remain exactly as it was. He couldn't change that. However, this—whatever he shared with you now—he could keep safe. The promise he made so long ago might finally be shown the respect he never thought to give it before.

"Come with me," you said softly, standing with a hand outstretched for him to take.

With a hesitant breath, he wrapped his calloused palm around yours and let you take the lead.

Past bookshelves and rows of boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling, you stopped at a shelf marked with words he'd seen a thousand times before. X-MEN. You tugged a box free and carried it to the table behind you—the top flipping open with ease as he caught sight of the pile of papers within. A list was taped to the side of what this might contain. Names he knew, people that might still exist on this Earth.

"This is all we know about the Logan in this universe." You pulled out a file, a picture of his variant clipped on top. He was rugged—aged. "It's not much, but it shows a bit of his past."

"Why are you showing me this?"

"So you can see what others see."

You handed him a photo of the X-Men. Jean and Scott stood on either side of Charles. Logan was off to the side, a cigar in his mouth and a cocksure grin on his lips. He hated the man before he knew him. Always hearing how fucking wonderful he was; how great a hero he used to be.

He selfishly wanted to be everything this version of himself was.

He wanted to be the hero he could never amount to.

"What happened to 'em?"

You glanced at the image, pulling another file out. The name punched the breath from his lungs as you flipped it open. JEAN GREY: ALIAS - PHOENIX. An image of her smiling at a lecture was pulled free—her hair red and down to her waist.

"I don't know much, because well Charles Xavier never disclosed information about the X-Men lightly. But...something happened to her. From what we know...Logan was the one to kill her."

The file fell on the table, his heart twisting violently in his chest as the words flooded his mind. He killed her. He killed Jean. The woman he once loved before you came into his life. Something severed in his body, the breath in his lungs was suddenly hard to come by. But the touch of your hand on his kept him from completely falling into that dark pit he fought to climb out of.

"He–" Logan sucked in a breath and shut his eyes to the image of Jean. "He killed her?"

You nodded, silent while he processed the information. Showing this to him wasn't an act of malice—he knew that. You didn't want him to suffer. You simply wanted to prove that the Logan that once existed wasn't the greatest to have ever lived. He was simply a man suffering the plight of guilt the universe handed him.

He had his own cross to bear. His own nightmares to fight through.

In some ways...they weren't so different.

"You're not the worst Logan," you admitted, letting him lean into you. "And he wasn't the best Logan." Your hand pressed to his cheek, eyes soft and warm. "He was just a man who was offered a terrible hand in life."

Logan huffed, his forehead finding yours as he breathed in your scent. "So you're sayin' I'm just a man?"

"I'm saying that the James Howlett in this universe probably thought he was the worst Logan too."

The words shouldn't have struck him the way they did. Their truth, louder than anything in this building. But the blunt and hardened reality stared him in the fucking face, and he had no choice but to meet it's gaze. The Logan of this world wasn't perfect. He fucked up. He ruined things. Yet he found a way to fix them. Put the pieces back together in order to obtain something that resembled the image of his life.

As much as he fought to claim he wasn't anything like the Logan that once walked this Earth.

He was finding it hard to see where they differed.

"Show me somethin' happy honey," he replied gruffly, his hand finding your hip with ease. "Show me somethin' you like."

The smile you rewarded him with placed some breath back into his chest. "What like books?"

"If that's what you love."

"I don't think we have enough time."

His hold on your hip tightened. "'M here all day."

"Yeah?" Turning away from him, you dug through the box. Down to the very bottom. "They found these at what they think is his grave."

Silver flashed in his vision before you were pressing a pair of dog tags into his hand. The name WOLVERINE was etched into the metal—its cold touch practically burned the skin of his palm. For years he thought he'd never see these again. A piece of his past he couldn't bring with him.

"I thought you'd want to have them."

"They're his," he croaked.

"And you're the Wolverine. They're as much yours as they were his."

Fingers closed around them as the chains dangled from his hand, and Logan felt his heart place another bit back into the correct spot. He never believed he belonged with people. Never wanted to hurt them. Yet life continued to surprise him. The metal was familiar to his touch. Years of toying with them, of having their comfort on his chest, kept him sane at some points. It helped to remind him of who he was.

Without even realizing it...you gave that back to him.

He wanted to tell you how much this meant. How grateful he felt. But he was never good with words.

So he pressed his lips to your cheek and let them linger there as heat pulsed in your body. The race of your heart made him grin. Simply knowing you liked him hiked up his ego in ways he didn't need at a time like this. But like the Logan that came before...he was a sucker when it came to resisting the aspect of love.

"Show me around bub."

You slid your hand into his, your lips nearly brushing as you turned to catch his gaze. "Okay."

"Why work there?"

The city at night exuded a different kind of energy that you frequently craved during the day. A fun lightness that normally hit when the clock struck six p.m. and people were finally out of work. You were allowed to leave earlier than expected due to a birthday gathering of coworkers going on downtown.

An invitation was offered. Until they saw Logan standing behind you and your plans for the night became clear.

"I love history." He offered to walk you home. You accepted on the single condition that he'd stay for dinner. "How humanity went from one thing to the next and so on."

He scoffed and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you out of the way of someone barreling by. "You don't have to explain that part to me bub. You're lookin' at a man who lived it."

"Did you?" The look you gave him had the feelings of want he pushed down earlier rearing their head. "Actually live through it?"

"I was born in 1832."

With a gasp, you clutched his arm. "Were you really?" you exclaimed. "That means you saw so much of history. Things we might not have written down."

And suddenly within moments...there you were from his world. Bright and beautiful and in love with the past. At first he believed it was due to your abilities; now he understood that's just who you were deep down. Always in love with what you couldn't fully figure out—the past you could see if you managed to travel back far enough.

"You have to let me pick your brain for facts."

He tugged you closer, stopping off to the side of the busy street, until you were stuck in his hold with nowhere to look but up at him. "Picking my brain ain't gonna be fun honey."

Your eyes were wide, lips parted slightly. "I disagree."

"You forget. Different universe. The history I know might be different from the one you know."

No matter how hard you tried, you could never hide the disappointment that flooded your eyes. "I'm sure it's not that different."

"Hm." He pressed a thumb to the top of your cheekbone, struck by how soft your skin felt beneath his. "Why don't you tell me yours. And then maybe I'll tell you mine."

The double entendre was layered in the lust that clouded his vision—the need that burned in his stomach. Logan hoped you understood it. Could see how much he ached for you. How you affected him since he first caught a glimpse of you yesterday. And seeing your pupils dilate, your chest heaving slightly, made his swell with pride. Saliva filled his mouth at the thought of one day getting a taste of you, but the sound of a horn going off behind him shattered the moment.

You stepped back with a deep inhale, your hand still in his. Which only served to prove Logan's point.

He fucking hated the city.

"Dinner?" you breathed, voice raspy with that feeling you tried to fight against.

Logan managed to turn you inside out. Pulling exactly where he needed to expose your heart. That alone should have terrified you. Yet the thrill of knowing him, of seeing where this might lead, kept you enamored and wanting for more.

"Lead the way."

What plans you created and meal you planned to order were lost the second you ascended the stairs to your apartment and stood in front of your door. The silence of the building was deafening compared to the noise outside. So much so that every breath you took echoed loud against the shitty yellow stained walls. Logan could hear the thump of your heart as it rammed within your chest. Quickening the closer he stepped towards you.

You turned, your back to the door and eyes dazed—unfocused. "I can order something."

His nostrils flared as your familiar scent began to deepen, mix with the arousal that seeped through your body. "That could work."

"What do you like to eat?"

The smile he gave you could only be described as canine. Near feral. "Dangerous question honey."

"What do you–" Shock flashed in your eyes, heat spilling into your face as the words finally processed. "Oh."

Logan wasn't hungry in a way that might seem normal to you. He didn't want to taste you, he wanted to devour. To feel you in ways that would scare you shitless. He craved you potently—viscerally. And perhaps it would scare you off.

Although something told him it wouldn't.

Silence no longer felt all consuming and horrid when he took one more step, crowding you against your door. You should have kept the conversation going. Laughed it off with a flippant smile and an offer of real food. Though neither of you could give a shit about dinner. That fact became evident the second he cupped the back of your neck and slotted his lips against yours.

A moan of surprise tore from your throat and Logan let out a growl to match. He kissed you fervently. Lips pressed hard and hot against yours, tongue sliding along your teeth, and somehow it never felt like enough. He'd dreamed of this for years. For the taste of you again, the gentle grip of your hands that dug into his hair and pulled.

That alone sent a groan echoing down the hallway, his body colliding with yours as your back hit the door. Your teeth found his bottom lip while his hands slid down to your ass, gripping and tugging until you could feel the prominent bulge through the denim of his jeans.

"Logan," you gasped, your tongue meeting his with another sharp tug on hair.

He slammed a hand against the door beside your head, his hips rutting down as you met the movement with one of your own. You wanted to drag him inside. Needed to feel his bare skin on yours. But something pulled tight against your chest as he stuttered into the kiss. The unfamiliar sound of his claws sliding out and puncturing the wood of your door made you jump.

"Sorry," he muttered, sliding his lips down your throat—teeth nipping the vein. "Happens."

"You owe me a door." You sounded breathless.

He brought his lips back to yours with a fury you'd never experienced before. "I'll buy you a new one." Your hips dragged along his, nails digging into the hot skin on the back of his neck. "I’ll fuckin’ make you one," he snarled.

The thought of someone passing by, seeing you nearly held up against your door by a man who's claws were embedded in it, was laughable. Yet you couldn't stop wondering what would happen if you let this go further. If you allowed him to take you right here out in the open.

Logan could smell the way you dripped for him and it drove him fucking insane. His body begged him to keep going. To slam open the door and bury himself in you right there on your kitchen floor. The way you whined into his mouth, rubbing yourself along his crotch, told him you wanted the same.

And he might have done just that.

If they hadn't started.

They're dead because of you!

Memories flashed in his mind with a rage unlike the past few times. Your face, tear stained and rageful. The way you used your powers against him. Tried to kill him for what happened. It all came rushing back with a lungful of air that burned.

I hate you!

"Logan?" You pulled back slightly, hands cupping his face with enough care he could feel the sting of tears start to build. "Are you okay?"

It should've been you that died Logan. Not them.

He sucked in a breath, ripping himself away from and stumbling a few steps back. Fighting against the past wasn't new to him. He'd been broken by it before. But now he couldn't even enjoy the sight of you with swollen lips and ruffled clothes, because all he saw when he closed his eyes was the other you.

The one he broke.

"I'm fine." His voice was raspy as he choked out the words.

A need to help him rang through your body and Logan could see it. He knew how badly you wanted to come to him—to hold him. This simply wasn't your battle to fight. He refused to change that in any way.

Standing up straight, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. An apology for the actions he was about to take.

He only hoped you wouldn't hate him for it afterwards.

"We'll do dinner another night, honey."

"Logan–"

"Goodnight." Walking away from you felt as if he'd ripped a hole in his chest with an adamantium bullet. One that wouldn't heal like before.

The dog tags were now wrapped around his neck, choking him like a collar he couldn't free himself from. A reminder that even the Logan of this world was unable to stop himself from destroying the one he loved. That was the plight they carried.

Their greatest grief. The one thing they had in common.

This...he could accept.

#Y'ALL I AM SO SORRY TO SAY IT ONLY GETS WORSE #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x y/n #wolverine x f!reader #my writing

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lustspren · 10 months ago

Text

P.S.T EP. 10 | A Little Piece of Heaven ft Winter.

length: 9.2k words✦

Winter & Male Reader

Special Guest: Noze.

genres: oral sex, rough sex, creampie, public sex, degradation, exhibitionism, squirt, voyeurism, bdsm, lesbian, dirty talk, sexual toy kink, scissoring

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Uhm... don't kill me, please," you said with your hands clasped on the table, Noze sitting in front of you. You were in the hotel lobby, you had let Ning sleep a little longer since it was still quite early in the morning, but you needed to talk to the boss alone.

"Just fucking talk, you're making me nervous," she insisted, crossing her arms, she was looking at you so intently that you had to look away from her so as not to stutter while you spoke.

"I'm sorry," you took a deep breath, "well... I took Ning out through a back alley, but as you well know she wasn't feeling well at all," you began.

"She threw up in the alley?"

"Aha," you nodded, "I reached down with her and picked up her hair, and well, I got distracted."

"And?"

"Flashing lights and the sound of a shutter," you sighed, "some son of a bitch photographed us both, but I managed to catch him in time. Let's just say I got a little rough with him and told some little lies. I told him it was better to negotiate with me unless he wanted me to end his shitty career. 50k for the damn SD card," while you were saying that you took the SD card out of your pants pocket to leave it in front of her.

You stared at her, expecting her to grab a plane ticket from her handbag and send your stupid ass back to Korea, but instead she just laughed, leaving you visibly confused.

"Oh my God!" she said between laughs, "you did amazing!"

"Uh… did I?" You frowned.

"Are you kidding? Only 50k? That's a child's figure at this point," she picked up the SD card and examined it carefully before putting it in her handbag, "give me details, you're making it worth getting up at this hour." "

"...Sure," you nodded, still confused by how composed she looked, "uh... I told her I was SM's representative here in the United States," she burst out laughing again, you sighed.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, damn!" She was laughing at you in your face, and your poker face wasn't helping, "You? SM representative?" more laughter, "the whole branch would collapse!"

"Thank you, how sweet," you said sarcastically.

"Anything else worth noting?" she asked as her laughter faded.

"The son of a bitch cracked his head open and called it an insurance policy in case I scammed him. Then he gave me his contact card," you also took it out of your back pocket and handed it to her.

"He certainly is a son of a bitch, yes," she nodded, looking at the face of the guy on the card, "call him."

"Huh? Right now?"

"Yes, why not? I have a few words to say to him."

"Aight," you nodded, and pulled out your phone to dial the number on the card. As the call rang, you left your phone on the table between the two of you.

"Hello?" the man answered from the other side. Noze quickly grabbed your phone and stood up, walking a few feet away from the table to talk to him. You were left alone at the table, looking at the restaurant menu, already thinking about what you were going to order for breakfast. After a couple of minutes she returned, her expression letting you know that everything had gone well.

"Aight, everything in order," she said, taking her seat again, "later today there will be nothing to worry about," you sighed in relief.

"Fuck, thank god. I was so fucking scared when it all happened," you looked down at your lap, thinking about what would have happened if you hadn't been quick enough to catch that guy.

"I know, I can imagine," she nodded slowly, leaning back in her chair as she stared into space. She made a small silence, "... remember when I told you that SM had given me a second chance?" You looked up, you found her eyes on you.

"Yeah, what's up with that?"

"I think it's time for you to know what happened," she looked down, "in short..." she took a deep breath, "I was in a relationship with one of them," you stayed silent and raised both eyebrows in surprise. You waited for her to continue talking, but she was waiting for you to say something.

"I mean… damn," you didn't really know what to say, you had your slight suspicions about it thanks to certain behaviors of hers, but you never wanted to draw the wrong conclusions, "may I know who?"

"Joohyun-ssi..." you noticed how saying her name made her nostalgic, perhaps melancholy, but a small smile appeared on her face, "you know her as Irene."

"Holy fuck!" you exclaimed, this time genuinely surprised. You fell back and sank into the seat, “I don't know why I thought of Seulgi, how did it happen?”

"In the parking lot of her condo," she looked up at you, "there was a fucking bastard in one of the buildings across the street who took pictures of us while we were kissing."

"No way..." you muttered.

"Aha..." she nodded slowly, "luckily the photographer was only looking for money for the photos, and the girls' manager had to cough up a much larger amount of money than what you coughed up."

"How much?"

“250 million won,” your jaw almost dropped to the floor, that was close to 180 thousand dollars.

"What a damn vulture, that's too much."

"I know, but you see, every manager since then has a small fund for situations like this, so 50k is a pretty small amount compared to others."

"Has this happened to you before?"

"Nope, I'm pretty careful about that, but NCT Dream's manager had to cough up an amount close to 200k because one of them was caught smoking... you know."

"Poor boy," you sighed, "he just wanted to be high for a bit," you managed to get a laugh out of her.

"Anyway, I'm really glad you were able to save Ning like that," she said, looking at you with a smirk, "you're not completely useless after all."

"You're being such a sweetheart today," you said sarcastically.

"I know, right?" she responded, also sarcastically, "and since I'm such a sweetheart, I'm going to lift your punishment."

"It's about damn time, mother of god," you let out a breath and rolled your eyes up in relief, "what a torture."

"Just don't screw up again, honey," she placed her hand on yours across the table, "the girls love you, they'd be so sad if you left."

"And what about you? It seems like you've grown fond of me too now," you teased, seeing her hand on yours.

"Oh, look who's coming down," she said quickly, removing her hand to clasp them in her lap, she looked to your right. As you followed her gaze you saw the four girls walking together towards you, each one already dressed and ready to go out as soon as you finished breakfast.

Ning's outfit let you understand that she had been the last to wake up and had dressed as hastily as possible, but her exaggerated beauty prevented her from looking bad, no matter what she was wearing. She just wore a short black skirt and a tank top of the same color to look as cute as ever. She also carried a Miu Miu clutch.

Jimin, looking as comfortable and confident as ever, had her silky black hair down. A white tank top with small black stripes was her choice for today, along with a pair of white flared pants. Like Ning, she went with a handbag, but this was Prada, which happened to be Miu Miu's sister brand. Random fact you heard from Ning at one of your breakfasts.

Giselle was by far the most alternative of the four, she was wearing khaki pants with loose straps, a sheer black knit sweater, and a sleeveless shirt underneath her. She didn't have a handbag, she just had her phone and her airpods in her hand.

Minjeong, on the other hand, didn't even look like she was going to take a flight, she looked like she was ready to go out and pose at a fashion event. You knew she wanted to stand out from the others that day, and you had your suspicions as to why. She revealed every attractive piece of flesh she had: a black crop top with thin straps, which showed everything from her pretty neck, her collarbone, her chest and her shoulders; a short white skirt (which you recognized was from Gucci), which showed off her flat, appetizing midriff, as well as her pair of slim, long, pretty legs. As expected, her handbag was also Gucci, and a black wool jacket was hanging folded on her forearm. To you she radiated pure sex, but you quickly put the thought out of your head since it was too early to have a boner.

"Did you manage to rest a little more baby?" you asked Ning as she approached with her gaze on you.

"I did, thanks honey," she said with a little smile. When she passed behind you, you felt her make the move to lean over to kiss your cheek, but she stopped short when she remembered where you were. Finally she just sat next to you.

"Pretend a little, will you?" Noze warned, "you two are not alone," you two couldn't do anything but lower your gaze and hold back your laughter at the scolding.

For the next ten minutes Noze dedicated herself to explaining to the girls in detail their next activities and everything she had scheduled for them for the day.

"That's all?" Jimin asked, making a mental note as she looked at her.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Noze said as she took a sip of her watermelon juice, "mister fool will go with us in the van," everyone quickly looked up from their plates to see both you and Noze, with a shared reaction of surprise.

"Is he already out of the dog cage?" Giselle asked, "and that means me too?"

"Aha, control your horny ass next time," Noze warned without looking at her. At that moment you felt how Minjeong, sitting on your right, leaned closer to your ear.

"It's about time you got off house arrest," she whispered in your ear, "I was starting to consider fucking one of the security guys if she didn't let you stretch me out soon," you had to hide your reaction as you ate your omelet.

When you all finished your breakfast you stood up in the rush to make the last preparations before leaving for the airport. The staff members began to fill the lobby with boxes, luggage and other inventory of utmost importance for the tour. You offered to help upload some things, it wasn't your job anymore, but you had done it long enough to get used to it, and besides, the staff was too nice not to help them out from time to time.

Once everything was in order and prepared, you all began to get into the van. You took a seat next to the left window, Jimin sat diagonally to the right, Ning to your right at the other end, and Minjeong right in front of you. Giselle sat behind, focused on her phone. Noze on the other hand settled into the passenger seat while she took out her laptop from her bag.

"So," Jimin took off an airpod to look at Noze, "is he allowed to provide services again?" Noze continued to stare at the screen of her laptop.

"Everything is back to normal," Noze nodded, "but for the love of God, be careful, I won't allow another mistake like that."

As Noze spoke Minjeong made eye contact with you for a few seconds, then she pointed down, and when you looked down she spread her legs as wide as the seat would allow. She hadn't bothered to wear anything under her skirt, so you had a perfect view of her pretty, perfectly shaved pussy. You wanted to tell her something, but you didn't want anyone to hear it.

"I'm going to fucking destroy you," you said, just moving your lips as you looked into her eyes. She just smiled and looked out the window, crossing her legs again.

Upon arriving at the airport you quickly went through each checkpoint since the private jet that would take you to Dallas was already ready to take off. As you boarded and settled into the cabin you examined the interior, the jet was not as spectacular as the one that brought you to America, but it was already much better than an average plane, and it was quite nice. Light wood interiors and perfectly shiny champagne leather seats.

As soon as you entered, there were four seats forming a square, two on the left and two on the right. Then there were two double seats with a table in the middle, and to the left, a small table with a large drawer underneath. In the last area of the cabin, a large sofa, and a door that you assumed was the bathroom. Minjeong quickly took your hand and pulled you with her to the double seats so that you sat next to her, a move that worked perfectly because the four missing girls had taken the four missing seats behind you. Nobody was going to see anything.

Minjeong didn't waste a single second of time, as soon as you settled into the seats she grabbed your right forearm and brought your hand straight between her legs, your fingers now touching her pussy.

"Just use one finger..." she murmured in your ear, "I really need to feel myself stretching around that cock while we're at cruising altitude."

"That's kinda kinky, Minjeong-ah," you murmured back, rubbing your fingers up and down between her folds.

"Are you kidding? That sounds like an incredible idea to me..." she gasped as she looked at you, "you fucking me forty thousand feet up… just imagine that."

"So naughty, my god," you smiled, finally taking a finger inside her tight pussy as the plane raised its nose and rose into the air.

When your finger reached as deep as it could go inside her pussy you began to slowly move your wrist, causing Minjeong to let out an audible little moan that made you stop for a second because you were sure someone would have heard it.

"Everything okay back there?" you heard Noze ask.

"Everything's perfect, boss," Minjeong replied, biting her lower lip in the middle of a smirk. Out of curiosity, you looked over the side of your seat. Ning had already fallen asleep, Jimin was reading a book, and Noze was focused on her laptop. You couldn't fully see Giselle since she was behind you, but you noticed that she was playing Brawl Stars on her phone.

"Keep fucking quiet," you muttered as you turned back around and resumed pumping your wrist.

"Let go, idiot," she snapped with her mouth half open, bringing her hand to your cock over your sweatpants to massage it between gasps.

After a few seconds she took your cock out of your sweatpants and started rubbing it up and down, following the rhythm of your wrist while your finger went in and out of her. She had her lips pursed, stifling as many moans as she could just like you.

As soon as she noticed that the plane had gained enough altitude, she took off the belt that held her waist and stood up. You also took off your seat belt, and when she passed in front of you to get out of the seats, you stood up and followed her to the bathroom. It was more spacious than a normal plane, but your recent experiences let you know that it was nothing so impressive.

When you both entered you didn't even have time to lock the door behind you before she was already bent over the sink, her skirt wrapped around her waist and her pretty ass exposed for you.

"Not a coffee or anything?" you joked, standing behind her with a little smile.

"Shut up and fuck me raw asshole," she ordered, looking over her shoulder with a sensual look, "rip off those pants and put all that juicy cock inside me, I need to feel stretched and filled by you."

You knew that Minjeong was by far the horniest and most sex-crazed of all the girls, but she never ceased to amaze you how dirty she could talk sometimes. You didn't want to make her wait any longer, so you pulled down your sweatpants and boxers in a single pull towards your ankles to free your cock. One hand of yours went to her waist, and with the other you took your cock to rub it between her folds up and down, you let out a spit towards your cock and lubricated it well, and without any more time to waste you went all the way inside her, remembering how incredibly good her extremely tight and hot pussy felt.

"Oh my god..." you gasped, resting your pelvis against her buttocks as her pussy walls stretched around your shaft, "I missed this tight little pussy."

"Yeah? Because you're filling me up so fucking good," she moaned with her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at you, "do you like the way my pussy squeezes that cock daddy?" another of them who called you that way, two out of four.

"I fucking love it," you growled, giving both of her buttocks a hard squeeze and then spanking one of them. Minjeong squealed, and you started pumping your hips back and forth.

Minjeong's folds kept a firm grip around your cock, which was smothered from all directions by her warm, tight pussy walls. Your fingers held tightly to her small waist, feeling her soft flesh against your skin as your cock moved completely in and out of her fragile frame. In a few seconds she was already being hammered by your cock, and her moans began to echo off the bathroom walls.

You and her were locked in a bubble of pure lust and desire, which held strong for a few more thrusts until a series of frantic knocks on the door made you stop in your tracks.

"You better open that damn door immediately!" you heard Noze exclaim from the other side. Minjeong cleared her throat in annoyance, and with your balls deep inside her she left the sink to lean towards the door.

"What can I do for you?" Minjeong said with a false tone of friendliness after opening the door wide open. Noze did not look at all disturbed by the lewd scene before her eyes.

"Look, this tour is going to kill me with a migraine one of these days, so if you would be so kind, go fuck in the cabin so I can watch you and distract myself a little," she made eye contact with you as she spoke, and just God knows how intimidated yet surprised you felt. You didn't know what to say or do, you were on autopilot at that moment, and never better said.

"And what about the girls?" Minjeong asked.

"Do you care?" Noze returned.

"Not really, I love having an audience," saying that Minjeong straightened her body and made your cock come out of her pussy. Noze looked at it for a few seconds and then looked into your eyes, until she turned around and took the lead, Minjeong followed her, and you followed Minjeong.

"All the spotlight is on you, show off," Noze said as she returned to her seat. You had taken off your sweatpants and boxers along the way, and now you were completely naked from the waist down standing behind the seats where Ning and Giselle were. Minjeong unbuttoned her skirt and lowered it to her heels, where she also took off her heels before getting on her hands and knees with her ass raised facing you.

“Come and fuck me daddy, it's show time,” Minjeong said, looking back over her shoulder at you.

"Jesus Christ, are you really going to do this here right now?" Giselle said with a giggle to your left as you knelt behind Minjeong.

"Orders from above, nothing to do about it," you replied to Giselle in English, before spitting again on your cock and plunging back into Minjeong's tight pussy. Her ass rested against your pelvis, and with a spank to her milky buttock you began to fuck her again, this time with Noze's gaze on you.

"Do you like what you see, boss?" Minjeong asked Noze between squeals of pleasure, as you slapped her ass with each thrust, "He's stretching my pussy so fucking good, mhmmm!"

"What a slut..." Giselle mentioned next to you, watching you out of the corner of her eye while she played on her phone. Ning on the other hand was still fast asleep, and Jimin wasn't even bothering to pay attention to you.

"I bet you're pretty fucking horny right now huh?" Minjeong teased Noze, who had already unbuttoned her pants to put a hand inside them, "Fuck yeah, you love what you see, who knew," you gave her another hard spank so she screamed in pleasure, your cock frantically hammering her pussy.

"Shut your damn mouth Minjeong," Noze moaned as she bit her lip, "and you," she looked into your eyes, "lie on your back, I want to see how she rides you," you did so, pulling out of Minjeong to lie on the floor, she straddled you to impale herself on your cock again, but Noze intervened, "not like that, turn around," Minjeong raised an eyebrow and turned around, to ride you in a reverse cowgirl position.

"So you want to look me in the eye while I jump on this cock, huh?" Minjeong said with a mischievous giggle as she took you inside her again, beginning to sensually move her hips back and forth. You had perfect views, Minjeong's ass moving on your cock and meters ahead, Noze fingering herself between discrete moans.

"Oh my god... look at that bulge on your abdomen," Noze moaned, and she proceeded to remove both her pants and her panties. She spread her legs wide, and that was your first view of her pussy. Your mouth watered, “Jimin-ssi…” she motioned for Jimin to listen to her, Jimin took off one of the headphones and turned to look at her, “would you mind coming over here and putting that tongue to work?”

"Fuck, Adolin is about to have his duel against Relis and Jamakav," Jimin complained, closing 'The Way of Kings' and removing her headphones, "you owe me a favor."

Jimin knelt in front of Noze's seat, and without thinking twice she plunged her face right into her crotch. Noze moaned louder as she held Jimin by her hair, being eaten in the best possible way by a tongue that you knew was not inexperienced with.

"I can't believe you agreed that easily..." Minjeong moaned, teasing Jimin, who gave her the middle finger while she ate Noze's pussy. Minjeong planted her feet on the floor on either side of your hips, leaned back to rest her hands on your arms, and began jumping up and down quickly, making the bulge on her stomach even more visible for Noze. You groaned in pleasure, feeling Minjeong's pussy tighten around your shaft, and enjoying everything that was happening in front of your eyes.

"I'm so close, fuck!" you said with a moan, already feeling at the point of no return thanks to Minjeong's jumps on your cock and the image of Noze being devoured by Jimin, who seemed to be putting her soul and sweat into her work, since boss’s face was pure pleasure.

"Creampie her!!" Noze squeaked to your surprise, tangling her fingers in strands of Jimin's hair.

"You heard her daddy… drain those balls into my tight little pussy," Minjeong moaned, looking down at you over her shoulder. She started jumping faster and harder, you groaned in pleasure, and brought your hands to her waist to help her go all the way up and down your throbbing cock.

After a few seconds in which Minjeong didn't stop jumping on your cock for a single second, you exploded. You growled deep in your throat, feeling yourself shoot your load into her warm pussy. Feeling the thick, hot liquid inside her, Minjeong gave one last hard push down and brought her orgasm. Her moans filled the entire cabin, and in search of increasing her pleasure she began to grind her hips back and forth with your cock deep inside her pussy, still shooting cum.

For Noze, the climax was also a matter of seconds, she just had to watch how Minjeong very slowly took your cock out of her pussy, and how the cum spilled out of it, to press Jimin's face towards her pussy while her orgasm made her scream. You also heard a moan from Jimin as she ate out Noze while she came.

"Fuck, you made her completely full," Noze moaned, "do you feel full and stretched already, Minjeong-ah?" she asked looking into her eyes.

"Very, very full and stretched by this juicy, delicious, magnificent cock," Minjeong agreed, getting off of you to kneel on your side, lean towards your crotch and start cleaning your cock, lower abdomen and balls between licks and sucks. She didn't stop until your cock was completely clean and she had swallowed all your cum.

"Like I was telling you..." Jimin pulled away from Noze's pussy as she wiped her chin, "you owe me a favor," she remarked before returning to her seat, putting on her headphones, and returning to the book.

"Ah... yeah, sure," Noze nodded, still spread-legged, realizing everything that had happened, she made eye contact with you, and then with Minjeong, "Uhm... get dressed and get comfortable, there's still a couple of hours left to land," she said with slightly blushing cheeks.

"Nice wet pussy, boss," Minjeong teased with a giggle, "but next time let me eat it myself… it looks so yummy."

—------------------------------

Upon landing in Dallas, none of you had time or mind to talk about what happened while you were more than ten thousand meters high, everything was a slight chaos and rush as soon as you set foot in the airport, and within an hour you were already at the hotel where you were going to stay. Everyone, both members and staff members, you and Noze, went to your respective rooms to rest as soon as everything was in order.

You didn't have any plans for that afternoon, so you invited Ning (as always, going through Noze's approval first) to your room to watch a movie before bedtime. You and her had a nice little time watching The Batman, cuddling on your bed and sharing a few little kisses until the movie ended, and then spending 15 minutes discussing the movie until she had to left.

When you were left alone in your room, the first thing you did was go take a long, relaxing bath that helped you get rid of all the tiredness and physical exhaustion that you had accumulated throughout the day. You left the bathroom, got dressed, and lay down on your bed to take out your phone and let the ITZY girls know that you were already in the next city safe and sound. The next day's activities forced you to go to sleep early that night, so as soon as you read the girls' answers and said goodbye to them, you turned off all the lights in your room and fell asleep.

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The next morning you tried to talk to Noze about what had happened to no avail, since as soon as you all finished breakfast she started giving orders left and right. She had ordered you in particular to go to the venue and prepare everything in the dressing room with the stylists team and makeup artists. Everything took longer than you had estimated and you no longer had any time to go to the hotel and then come back, so you just told Noze that you were going to wait for them there.

The girls arrived at the venue after about fifteen minutes, but you didn't have time to talk or even interact with any of them since they had to rush through sound tests, wardrobe tests, and then put on makeup. Hours passed, and you noticed how the crowd of people began to fill the place. When you least expected it, it was time for them to go on stage, and you stayed with Noze on the side stage while you watched the concert.

"Are we going to talk about that little scene on the plane or...?" You brought the topic up from under the table, Noze took a deep breath, tilted her head and crossed her arms with her eyes on the stage. The girls were performing Savage at the time.

"Look, I promise we'll talk about it at some point, but for now don't pressure me, okay?" She turned to see you, you were both shoulder to shoulder, so when you turned your head too, your faces were not very far from each other.

"It's okay, I'm sorry," you said, looking into her eyes, "I didn't mean to, I just didn't expect that."

"I understand, but we'll talk about it," she assured, also looking at you, "now shut up and watch the concert."

"I've already seen it 3 times," you both turned again to look at the stage.

"You have the chance to see those four goddesses performing from here, take it."

"Well, you have a point."

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When the concert ended you helped the staff store all the things and load them into the vans, after that, you got into the van with the girls and Noze and returned to the hotel. Everyone went to their respective rooms to take baths before going down to dinner or to sleep, but your plans were to order some food that night and lock yourself up until one of the girls required your attention. The message didn't take long to arrive, and you didn't even have time to order your food.

As soon as you answered Minjeong you stood up and opened your suitcase to change into something more comfortable. Your choice was a pair of navy blue sports shorts, an oversized black Nike hoodie, and your granite Yeezy Sliders. You didn't care too much about arranging your hair so well, or putting on perfume or anything like that, you only had your phone and barely a half-finished pack of Mentos in your pockets. The only thing you made sure you had covered was to tell the boss.

You waited for a few minutes for Noze to respond, but the messages never arrived, which you found very strange indeed. She always responded the minute you said something, and you could only think of two things, either she was taking a shower, or she had already fallen asleep. You doubted both, but you left your room anyway and headed to Minjeong's.

When you got to Minjeong's room you didn't even bother to knock on the door or call her, you just opened it wide as if it were your room. What happened on the plane was insignificant compared to what you saw now in front of your eyes, and now you knew why Noze wasn't answering your messages. Minjeong was tied by the ankles and wrists behind her back with thick visibly tight red ropes, next to her, Noze completely naked as she inserted a not at all small dildo into Minjeong's pussy.

"Wow," you hurried inside and locked the door behind you, Minjeong and Noze turned to look at you, "What's going on, what the fuck."

"Well, it looks like we don't need fake cocks anymore," Noze said, looking at you, and then took the dildo out of Minjeong's pussy, who let out a moan. She had her legs up with her thighs pressed against her abdomen, so you had a perfect view of her pussy and her butthole soaked in what looked like Noze's saliva.

"This is certainly not how I imagined I would see you naked for the first time," you told Noze, scrutinizing her small, tight, toned body. She didn't have the biggest ass or tits, but she was sexy on a level that you didn't even know how to explain.

"Bold of you to think you were going to see me naked before all this," she said, putting the dildo aside to stand up and go sit on the single couch on the right side of the room, in front of the window covered by the curtains.

"Was I wrong?" you teased.

"It doesn't matter, because you're seeing me naked right now," she spread her legs and grabbed one of those microphone-shaped vibrators, "pretend I'm not here and get to work."

"It's hard when your pussy is looking me right in the eye," you said, placing your phone on a small bench at the foot of the bed. You took the packet of fruit mentos out of your pocket and popped one into your mouth.

"You're gonna keep talking to her or are you gonna come here and fuck my brains out?" Minjeong teased from the bed, she had managed to lie on her side.

"We already played your little game on the plane, Minjeongie," you climbed onto the bed with her and got on your knees as you took off your hoodie, "but now it's my turn, and I'll do whatever I want with you."

"Then go ahead and use me as a puny sex toy daddy," she told you, biting her lip.

"Finger her and make her cum," Noze ordered to your right. You heard the vibrator turn on.

"You're lucky we think the same," you replied to Noze, "let's keep it up and I think our Minjeongie will end the night completely destroyed."

You took off your sliders and sat on the bed, pulling your shorts and boxers down to your ankles and off your legs with a single tug. Now the three of you were completely naked. The first thing you did was kneel in front of Minjeong's ass to lean forward and start filling the side of her face with kisses. Your mouth moved from her jaw to her chin, from where you moved down to her neck to fill it with hickeys and wet kisses. Minjeong shifted between gasps beneath you. Her ass rubbed against your balls, and when she noticed it she continued moving her hips to try her luck and thus press herself against your hard cock. Not wanting her to get what she wanted, you placed her body on her back and now took her perky little tits to your mouth.

Minjeong let out small moans as your tongue met her soft nipples and stimulated them between licks, kisses and sucks. Your hands roamed all over her slender body, using your massage skills to hit the right parts and make her melt beneath you. The notable parts that you identified as weak points for her were her lower abdomen, her lower back, and her inner thighs. You would remember that later.

While you continued devouring her tits you placed one hand between her thighs and ran your two fingers up and down between her slit, her folds already soaked and slimy. Maybe Noze had already made her cum before? It was most likely, but tonight you wanted to see Minjeong completely ruined and at your mercy. You took two fingers inside her, both sliding in easily, eliciting a louder squeal.

"Slap and degrade that whore if she dares to speak, she is not allowed," ordered Noze, who saw out of the corner of your eye how she already had the vibrator pressed to her clit, "she is just our sex slave right now."

"Did you hear that, baby?" You asked Minjeong as you continued sucking on her tits and began to move your wrist at a moderate speed, fingers in and out of her pussy, "you better stay silent."

"It's not like I dislike that punishment," she teased with an evil smile, and since you had your good hand busy, you spit on her cheekbone, "oh fuck yes, spit on me daddy..." she moaned, and you pulled out your fingers from her pussy just to have your hand available to slap her hard, make her gape her mouth and spit into it.

"Shut the fuck up, I'm not going to repeat it," with that said you proceeded to move your wrist as hard as you could, filling the hotel room with the sounds of your palm slapping against her buttocks, the wet sounds and Minjeong's moans. Noze still didn't dare to raise her voice too much, but with every second that passed you heard her moan louder.

You dove back into Minjeong's tits, sucking on both nipples as your fingers stretched her tight pussy non-stop. Your wrist was a machine at its maximum power, made to make the tied girl's body a tangle of tremors and small spasms of pleasure perfectly hitting her sensitive spot. While your tongue and fingers drove Minjeong crazy you turned your head slightly to make eye contact with Noze, who was still with the vibrator still firmly pressed against her pussy. Her face distorted with pleasure was a poem to you, as was watching her squirm.

"S-Stop looking at me..." Noze said, looking away, now to see Minjeong, "cum, you fucking whore."

You stopped watching her not because you wanted to, but because Minjeong started screaming the way she did when she was close to cumming. She opened her mouth to say something, but her position made her remember that it was not her role to do so, so she just bit the pillow that was next to her and in a matter of seconds she exploded around your fingers, which were soaked with her warm fluids and dripped part of their thighs.

"Mmm, you cummed a lot honey," you smiled, moving up to give her more kisses on her neck. Then you grabbed her chin and forced her to look at you with slightly glassy eyes, "now it's your turn to satisfy daddy, would you like that?" She just nodded, "Good girl."

"But I wanted you to eat her pussy!" Noze protested.

"Come and do it yourself then, cutie," you said looking at her, she seemed a little surprised at your boldness, but she didn't refuse either. She stood up while you knelt on the side of Minjeong's face, climbed onto the bed and went to work on the knot in Minjeong's heels.

"I have a better idea," once she untied the knot holding Minjeong's legs, she spread them wide and settled into a scissors position with her, "mmm, so wet and hot," Noze moaned, as she pressed their pussies together, then she looked at you, "what are you waiting for? fuck that pretty face."

"As ordered boss," you nodded, taking your cock in one hand and looking down at Minjeong, who was already beginning to move her hips to rub her pussy against Noze's while she looked at your flesh with eyes of pure desire, "You're craving it huh?" you teased, slamming your cock against her lips. She stuck her tongue out immediately to make your tip smack against it.

"Mmmhm, of course she does," Noze moaned, holding on to one of Minjeong's legs as she ground her hips, "she's a slut who enjoys being used."

You brought your left hand behind Minjeong's neck, holding her head to raise it and bring your cock directly to her mouth. Her lips closed around your cock and put pressure on it, you let her move her head on her own for a few seconds in which she could only suck half of your shaft and leave it shiny with her saliva, but her moment of freedom was over when you brought both hands to her head and started pumping your hips back and forth.

As your cock made its way through her warm mouth you noticed her throat showing some resistance past the middle of your shaft, but you weren't there to be merciful or patient, so you didn't give a shit if she choked or not, you just pushed forward. Minjeong coughed and gagged and squirmed for air, but you didn't stop until your cock was buried deep in her throat in a thick pool of saliva, spilling out the sides of her mouth and dripping down to the sheets.

Noze meanwhile was clinging to Minjeong's thigh between no longer timid moans, you turned to look at her as she bit her lip and rubbed against Minjeong's pussy as if her life depended on it. You, on the other hand, began to pump your hips back and forth, with Minjeong's cute little teary eyes looking at you and her mouth moaning around your cock since it wasn't just Noze who was receiving pleasure from what she was doing.

A growl left your throat as you felt Minjeong's throat get used to your length, now allowing you to move harder without fear of hurting her in any way. You grabbed a fistful of her hair and held onto it to move her head towards your cock with each thrust, you wanted to reach out and touch her clit too, but that meant risking touching Noze, and since you didn't know if she was okay with you touching her, you just didn't do it.

Noze was immersed in her own world at that point, just listening to the sound of your cock hitting Minjeong's throat with each thrust and grinding her hips desperately in search of an orgasm that was not long in coming. You had already seen her cum just hours ago, but she impressed you again with how incredibly hot and sexy her face looked while her body writhed in pleasure. She rubbed her own clitoris and also Minjeong's, squeezing out every last drop of ecstasy. Her moans filled the room and echoed in your ears, you could tell she barely had time to please herself by how liberated she sounded.

Minjeong, who not only enjoyed how Noze touched her but also how you fucked her throat as if she were just an object, moaned from the depths of her being and let out a few tears that ran down her cheeks and mixed with the saliva that spilled from her mouth. You pulled her hair hard and carelessly, pumping your cock completely in and out of her mouth. Since you had one hand free and you already considered that her tits had had enough attention, you had no choice but to bring it to her neck, where you pressed your fingers firmly and felt how your cock bulged every time you reached the her throat. That drove you completely crazy and fueled your flame, you felt closer and closer to cumming.

"Where do you want me to cum, boss?" you asked Noze without looking at her, just looking at Minjeong's weak, blushing, pleasure-drunk face while you ruined her angelic face with your cock.

"Fill her throat with cum, don't let her waste a damn drop," Noze growled, biting her lower lip, she had stopped rubbing her clit to now focus on Minjeong's, "I'll make that whore squirt."

You removed your right hand from Minjeong's neck to now bring it to her head next to the other, now with both grips on her hair you became a complete animal and began to hit her throat without any mercy, as hard and fast as you could. Minjeong, recognizing what you liked most, stuck out her tongue and pressed it against the back of your cock, which now rubbed against it with each pump and ended up putting the icing on the cake.

As you reached your orgasm you buried Minjeong's head towards you and started shooting your entire load down her throat, just in time for Minjeong to reach her second (maybe third) orgasm of the night, this time more wild and with an extra prize. A stream of squirt shot out of Minjeong's pussy as she twisted her hips between spasms, which soaked Noze's entire chest and also the sheets.

You couldn't help but grunt in pleasure as Minjeong squealed around your cock and you shot thick streams of cum straight down her throat, her moans mixed with strong gag reflexes, but she was able to get through it without much trouble as she swallowed every drop she received. When you emptied your load you came out of her mouth, and she could finally breathe properly.

"You sure did a good fucking job huh?" you said looking at Minjeong, with her mouth, her chin and almost every part of her upper body stained with saliva in some way. Her hair had also become very disheveled and some of her makeup had smudged.

"Don't you even dare give her a break," Noze said, climbing on top of Minjeong's body to kiss her in a torrid and passionate way, you had to lean back so as not to touch Noze, although in the same way, she was practically tasting both your cock and your cum in that kiss. You didn't comment on anything.

"Well I need to handle her as I please, so could you get off of her," you said sitting on your calves as the two of them continued kissing.

"I want her to eat me, so find the position that seems best to you," Noze asked, looking at you out of the corner of her eye to get off of Minjeong.

"I already fucked her from behind earlier, so a missionary will be perfect," with that said you waited for Noze to completely pull away before going and kneeling between Minjeong's trembling legs. You looked at her, her face said she was exhausted, but her eyes screamed at you to fuck her with the strength of a bull.

"I'm sorry for having to cover her pretty face," Noze said, straddling Minjeong's face and surprisingly facing you, "I know you want to see her cry and spit on her like the slut she is, but I need to cum one more time, sweetness," She said all this while looking you straight in the eyes, and again you felt somewhat intimidated.

"Use her as much as you want, I know you need it," you nodded, not bothering to hide how you looked at her pretty little tits and her flat, toned stomach.

"You're going to ogle me," she said as you grabbed Minjeong's legs and spread them wide, hands on her trembling thighs, "at least hide it."

"Nah, you're beautiful and your body makes my mouth water, why hide it," Noze raised an eyebrow at your compliment and while maintaining eye contact with you, she lowered her hips to sit on Minjeong's face, who started to eat and caused her to let out a long, sensual moan inches from you.

"Improve those hook up lines, you're not telling me anything I don't already know," she said arrogantly, and in response you played the same game, maintaining eye contact with her as you took your cock inside Minjeong's pussy. She moaned against Noze's pussy, and she gasped as a result.

From that moment on, you and Noze locked yourself in a common bubble in which Minjeong gave you incredible satisfaction and pleasure, her with her skillful tongue and you with her tight pussy, which suffocated your cock even after you had stretched it with your fingers a few minutes ago. Noze played with Minjeong's tits, pinching her nipples with her fingers and also using her mounds as support to grind her hips into her face.

You kept a firm grip on Minjeong's thighs, pressing them back and consequently raising her pelvis slightly. You couldn't lean forward to fuck her into her mattress since Noze was in the way, so you just worked from that same position. You didn't need to be patient, just a few seconds with your cock deep in her pussy were enough for her to get used to it and give you the green light to fuck her.

Noze grinded her hips faster and harder against Minjeong's face, in a way that made you confirm her past as a dancer, almost hypnotic and sensual like few things you had seen in your life. Not being able to do anything but move your hips, you stared at her, and for a few seconds you imagined that you were not fucking Minjeong, but her. That made you moan, and strangely you felt a small boost of arousal in you.

She was looking at you too, she licked both of her fingers and you naively thought they were for you, but she reached for Minjeong's pussy and started rubbing her clit again. Now her hand was dangerously close to your cock as it went in and out, but to your disappointment, you knew she wouldn't touch it.

Seeing her hand so close to your cock was somewhat tortuous for you, so in order not to see it you put Minjeong's legs together, with her two feet in the air and her heels held together, that way her thighs covered what was happening behind. Still, you prevented Minjeong's feet from blocking your vision, so you continued watching Noze grinding against Minjeong's mouth between loud moans.

With your hands pressing her thighs back, your cock slamming against her pussy as fast as your hips would go, and Noze's fingers stimulating her clit, Minjeong's body became a trembling mess that Noze benefited from, her thighs pressed on either side of Minjeong's head. She stopped looking at you to close her eyes and purse her lips to drown out her screams of pleasure. You noticed that she was close, but what gave Noze the finishing touch was Minjeong's orgasm, who screamed and shook under her.

"OH FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!" Noze screeched.

With both girls cumming in front of you, you couldn't do anything but pump your hips slower and wait patiently for both petite bodies to stop squirming and shaking. Noze wanted to collapse forward, but when she saw that you were there she did so but in the opposite direction, resting her hands on her mattress and falling off of Minjeong's face, who seemed anything but energetic.

"Don't… don't stop using me daddy," Minjeong said in a low voice, still breathing very heavily, "you haven't put another load inside me yet," rules were rules, so you slapped her hard.

"You still have energy left to take daddy's load huh?" you teased, leaving her pussy to grab her by the waist and lay her face down. For the first time in a while you saw her red hands tied behind her back.

“I could do this all night…” Minjeong replied, looking at you from the corner of her eye. Two strong and spicy spanks on each buttocks, both of them left red.

"I don't doubt it, you are a dirty high caliber sex toy..." you got on top of Minjeong's body, took your cock in your hand to take it between her buttocks and dive deep into her pussy again, to fuck her in prone bone.

Minjeong let out a breathless grunt of pleasure as she felt you inside again. You left your hands resting on the mattress on either side of her body, beginning to pump quickly up and down and pinning her against the mattress with all the weight of your body. With each thrust she let out small moans without energy, not because she was not enjoying it, but because her body was almost in vegetable mode at that moment, product of many intense orgasms in a row and without rest, not to mention that she was deprived of comfortable breathing twice.

You growled like a primal beast, bringing one of your hands to her hair to forcefully pull it back and the other to her lower back, under her tied wrists, you pressed there, and Minjeong began to pant and grunt more.

"Mmmmmghhh, just like that, yes yes yes," she grunted, then letting out little whimpers as you hammered her pussy up and down, already feeling close to your ecstasy, "don't you fucking stop daddy, oh my god!"

Your hand moved from her hair to her neck, pressing it down to crush the side of her face against the pillow. A drop of sweat fell from your forehead to her pretty back, and with a few more hard thrusts you started another load inside her pussy. This was the trigger for Minjeong's last orgasm of the night, the one that was going to leave her completely ruined.

"Oh my god Minjeong!" You groaned in pleasure, feeling her pussy walls tighten almost painfully around your cock as you shot your last drops of cum into her, moving your hips slowly up and down. She didn't make any sound as she came, you could only see her lost eyes and her mouth half open as her body spasmed in every corner.

"I... need to go to the bathroom," said Noze, who had watched everything in complete silence, "i-it won't be long," you turned to look at her as you pulled out of Minjeong's filled pussy. She didn't seem happy at all, in fact, you could see her eyes filling with tears as she got off the bed.

"Uhm… are you o…kay?" you asked unsuccessfully as Noze went into the bathroom. You heard how she locked it.

You were left alone there with Minjeong, who was nothing more than a lifeless rag doll at that moment. Her pussy dripping with cum and her body still not getting over the slight spasms. There was nothing to clean since Noze had locked herself in the bathroom, so you had to make do with a random piece of clothing you found on the floor to clean yourself and Minjeong. Then you just laid down next to her and rested.

After about 15 minutes Noze finally came out of the bathroom, you noticed her eyes were somewhat red. She had definitely been crying, but you didn't want to push her.

"Aight, I'm fine, stop looking at me with those worried puppy eyes," she insisted, reaching for her clothes, "I just had a... mental breakdown."

“You sure?" you asked, sitting on the bed, watching her as she put on her panties and bra.

"Yeah, dork, now get dressed so we can get out of here, she needs to sleep peacefully," she pointed with her chin at Minjeong, who was still in the exact same position you had left her in, "she'll manage in the morning. "

"Fair enough," you sighed, stood up and dressed as quickly as you could with Noze. None of you made eye contact with each other, you just turned off the lights, turned on Minjeong's air conditioning and walked outside, separating paths towards your respective rooms.

—---------------------------------

Spren Notes: P.S.T is back :0

#winter smut #aespa smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #x male reader smut #noze smut #wayb noze smut #x male smut #x male reader #male reader smut

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dreamescapeswriting · 1 year ago

Text

Stray Kids Reaction || You're Friends And Calls You By A Pet Name

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

GN READER

CHAN:

"Baby, can you pass me my laptop, please." As soon as the words registered in your brain you slowly turned to face your best friend who was now turning bright red in the face. Never in the six years of being friends with Chan had he ever given you a pet name like that, he'd given you nicknames but nothing that held any romantic significance to them.

"Baby?" You arched a brow at him, pulling his laptop into your chest and smirking at him and he knew by that one look he was never going to live this moment down.

"It just came out," He groans reaching his hands out to take his laptop but you tut at him and move away from his reach,

"I'm not saying I didn't like it," You admitted, making him blush even more as he watched you closely, whimpering a little when you finally handed him his laptop and smirked at him. You enjoyed seeing your friend so flustered over something as little as a nickname,

"It's okay sugar tits, you can call me whatever you want." You told him before winking and going back to what you were doing on your own laptop.

MINHO:

Minho was doing his best to ignore the constant teasing that he was receiving from each of the members but it seemed as though they were relentless. It had been over a week now since Minho had called you that stupid pet name and he was never going to hear the end of it,

"Kitten," Chan cooed in Minho's ear making you giggle a little at them, Minho was turning red in the face and you could tell it was angering him more than he wanted to admit.

"That's enough guys, It's not like you've never said anything embarrassing," You told them as you looked at Minho with a small smile, he gave you a sympathetic smile back and looked down at his phone.

"I've never called my best friend, "kitten" though," Seungmin teased, making you shoot a glare in his direction to which the young boy whimpered a little.

"Minho made a mistake, we all do...Now let's stop teasing him before he kills us in his sleep," You told them before smirking at Minho who cuddled closer to your side, leaning up so he could whisper into your ear,

"Thank you, kitten." He smirked against your skin as he felt the goosebumps on your body, ever since he'd called you that last week the two of you had been secretly dating...testing out the waters for what could be between you.

CHANGBIN:

As soon as the pet name left Changbin's lips he instantly regretted it, It was something he'd been calling you in his head but he never wanted to say it out loud.

"Baby?" You questioned, turning to look at him as he did everything to void your gaze. The last thing he wanted to do right now was screw up the friendship the two of you had created over the years, so he had a little crush on you he was sure it would disappear sooner or later.

"I don't know where it came from." He stuttered a little as you made your way over to him and sat beside him on the sofa, taking his chin in your hands and making him look at you.

"Say it again," You whispered as he scanned your face for any sign that this was something that made you uncomfortable but there was nothing, except for a look of excitement in your eyes.

"Baby..." He whispers back, your whole body shudders a little as you feel your cheeks begin to warm up.

"I like it." You admitted shyly, Changbin's heart was about to go into overdrive as he stared at you,

"You do?" He questioned, too excited for this to be seen as a nickname from a friend and you nodded at him, giggling a little.

"I do...Call me it again," You begged before he continued to call you by the nickname, bringing you closer to his body each time he called you by the pet name.

HYUNJIN:

Hyunjin had known you for what felt like forever now, the two of you were best friends always had been and always will be and there was nothing more to it than that. This was why it was so surprising to the both of you when he turned around and called you "honey bun", It led the two of you just to stare at one another in complete silence.

"I've never heard you call someone that," You laughed at him, his cheeks beginning to turn bright red.

"It's from this stupid movie I was watching," He groans, running his hands over his face just waiting for the world to swallow him whole while you continued to giggle,

"Aw, love bug it's okayyyyy," You teased by calling him a pet name back only to have a pillow launched in your direction causing you to scream out.

"Don't get aggressive with me because you want to call me a nickname love bug," You smirked before another pillow hit you square in the face.

"Oh, it's on!" You screamed before throwing it back at him resulting in a huge pillow fight in the middle of your living room.

JISUNG:

"Darling, can you hand me-" Jisung stopped mid-sentence as soon as he realised his mistake and it was like his whole world stopped still. You were staring at him with your mouth hanging open, your best friend's face turning the same colour as the tomato you were eating as he began to stutter a little.

"Jisung," You tried to plead as he continued to stutter and stumble over an apology to you, refusing to look at you and instead kept his gaze on the table below him.

"I didn't mean to, it just sort of flew out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop it and I don't want you to get weird about it but I realise by saying that I'm making it weird and I don't know how to make myself stop talking because now I'm ranting and-" He stopped when you held his face in your hands, looking him in the eyes as he finally took in a breath since he' said that whole thing in one breath,

"Jisung...Breathe, everything is fine." You told him as he looked at you with a saddened expression,

"I don't want it to make things weird." He admitted to you as you nodded,

"It's not going to...Just take some deep breaths," You told him as you did some breathing techniques with him trying to get him to calm down little by little.

FELIX:

You'd had a crush on your best friend for who knows how long but you'd done everything within your power to hide it. The last thing you needed was to fuck up a friendship that meant the world to you, you never wanted to lose Felix.

"Hey, babe, can you get me my hoddie from the bedroom?" Felix asked as you stood up to go to the bathroom. It might have been a small pet name but you were suddenly giggling and looking at him, your legs getting a little jelly-like as you tried to walk.

"S-Sure," You stuttered out, your whole body flamed at the thought of him calling you any kind of pet name and you continued to giggle as you made your way to his room in search of his hoodie.

"Someone's happy," Felix chuckled suddenly in the same room as you again, you clutched his hoodie to your chest and turned to look at him,

"You liked it when I called you babe?" He quizzes stepping closer to you, he'd had a feeling you liked him more than a friend and now he was positive thanks to your reaction. You nodded at him shyly and he smirked at you,

"Good, let's go back and finish the movie baby and we can talk about this after," He winks before kissing your cheek and taking his hoodie leaving you as a bigger giggling mess than before.

SEUNGMIN:

Once the pet name had been spoken you and Seungmin stared at one another. You were best friends, had been for almost eight years now and the two of you were close...closer than close. Sometimes you acted like a couple going out a lot, cuddling, falling asleep curled up in one another's arms so there was no wonder as to why a pet name suddenly came out of the woodwork.

"What did you say?" You questioned slowly trying to make sure you'd heard him correctly and he blushed a little, swallowing the lump that was in his throat.

"Could you pass me the remote, baby?" He looked you in the eyes as you smirked a little, leaning closer to him as your breath caught on his lips. Your eyes slowly fluttered shut as did Seungmins as he moved closer to you and closed the gap between your lips, kissing you suddenly. As soon as you touched it was like a jolt of electricity was making its way through your body as you shifted to be closer to Seungmin.

"I had bets on them secretly dating!" Jeongin screamed as he walked into the room to find the two of you making out on the sofa, causing you to groan and hide your head in Seungmin's neck.

JEONGIN:

Nicknames weren't something you and Jeongin had ever given to one another, not even silly little nicknames and yet here you both were staring at one another as all of the members stared back at you.

"Love? Have you ever heard him call anyone that before?!" Felix asked as they stared at you, your eyes were still heavily locked on Jeongin as he blushed.

"I don't think I've ever called Yn anything but their name," Chan admitted as you waved your hand at them, silently telling them to shut up about it. It was clearly making Jeongin uncomfortable as his cheeks began to flame and he looked around nervously.

"Forget it happened, it was an accident." You told Jeongin who was quick to meet you gaze and shake his head rapidly,

"No?" You quizzed, your heart racing at the thought of him finally wanting more out of your friendship than just a friend. You'd been crushing on him for months but but were too scared to ever say anything.

"No," He whined before grabbing you and kissing you deeply, your eyes widened in surprise before relaxing and shutting as you gave into the kiss your arms wrapping around the back of his neck and bringing him closer to you.

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killiaia · 26 days ago

Note

Aespa reaction to having sex with an older fan boy

Karina

Karina is a leader. She's used to managing everything. Whether in her own life or in her group.

All the responsibilities she's taken on since she started out have been taken away since you came into her life.

You met Karina at a party given by a mutual friend. It didn't take long for the two of you to hit it off. You confessed to her, however, that you'd been an Aespa fan since their debut.

And now here you are, head between your legs, eating her pussy.

"Let me handle this, baby. Relax and let me eat you. "

Karina can't answer, overwhelmed by pleasure.

"Just concentrate on the comeback and let me handle everything. "

Karina nods briskly as you add a finger to her pussy.

----

Winter

Oh my fucking god. "

You pound Winter from behind. Everything about this comeback was perfect. The music, the MV, the lyrics, but especially Winter. With her long red hair you couldn't resist for long.

Every day you thank God for bringing Winter into your life. You tried your luck at a fan meeting. You slipped your number into her hand after shaking it, and you can say that everything has worked out for the best ever since.

You're sleeping with one of the world's most beautiful idols, so what more could you ask for?

Despite your five-year age difference, the feeling just clicked. And since that famous number exchange, you've taken part in every fanmeeting and showcase.

"Come inside me. Breed me. "

You speed up your movements, excited by Winter's words.

----

Giselle

If only your sister knew what you were doing right now, she'd probably kill you.

Now sitting on the edge of the bath, your pants down your legs, you look at Giselle, your cock in her mouth.

You grab her ponytail and impale the Japanese girl's mouth on your cock.

You've known Giselle since you were a little boy. She's your little sister's best friend and it's always a game of cat and mouse with Giselle.

You haven't seen her since her debut in Korea, but what can you do? Now you're in your bathroom watching Giselle bend over the sink and present you with her ass.

"Always such a beautiful ass. I've watched your concerts, you move it well. "

"How about you fuck my ass then? "

You line up your cock with her asshole and slowly push the tip in.

Giselle winks at you in the mirror.

----

Ninging

Ningning has always been interested in you. Even as a trainee, you were already flirting, even though you'd been around for years.

But life had other plans for you with your military service. You stayed in the army and Ningning continued her training and made her debut much later.

Of course you continued to follow the girls, but between the missions and Aespa's schedule, you lost touch.

But life was generous when you were assigned as the girls' bodyguard, much to your and the girls' delight.

"HARDER ! "

You grab Ningning and slam her against the glass. You put your cock back inside her and the Chinese girl jumps on top. With her back to the glass, the locals must have a beautiful view of Ningning's ass.

"When I first arrived, I was sure we'd have sex. "

Ningning kisses you.

"You've always been this older, caring Oppa to everyone. And I swear that now you're going to fuck me every day. "

"You're a naughty girl, Ningning. "

"I'm your naughty girl. "

You couldn't agree more.

#kpop #kpop smut #smut #aespa #aespa giselle #aespa imagines #aespa karina #aespa ningning #aespa winter #giselle #winter #karina #ningning #male reader #male reader smut #girl group x reader #girl group smut

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heavenbarnes · 7 months ago

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I've been chased, almost bit and actuslly bit by many'a dog in my 24 uears of life. Beagle, lab, pitfalls, a retriever and 2 German Shepherds. I now have two German Shepherd mixes [thanks husband] and they're actually kind of nice. Dumb, but protective [protective of the house from our landlord they see every day tho 🤦] and they give me a sense of security when I'm home alone and it's like the dead of night

They're also kind of a police/protection breed. Obviously not these two nuts, but the breed in general. So now, as I sit home alone with these two bozos [and my three cats and like 14 fish] I'm thinking of, like

Does Older bf! Simon get his girl a protection woofer? Rescue or breeder dog? How does that conversation go if he does? Does she think it's overkill or is she thankful for the company when he's gone?

Sorry for the long ass post btws, and the unsolicited pic of the two braincells I call my pets

ok never apologise for pictures of your dogs, they’re so stinkin’ cute 🫶🏼

i think older bf!simon hates being away from you in general but one of his biggest frustrations is that fact he’s left you alone.

he doesn’t like the idea of you being alone in that house and he doesn’t like knowing anything could happen and there’s not a damn thing he could do from so far away.

so yeah, he rescues two dogs (without fkn telling you) and they’re a couple of doberman brothers. they could stand on their back paws and put their front ones on your shoulders, these things are massive and look mean.

naturally, they adore simon and he could walk forever and they’d stay at his side. all he has to do is whistle and they’re on his heel, they don’t even rark up when he’s got his mask on.

you think they don’t like you as much as him, given the fact they spend so much time with him and only seem to tolerate you with food present.

“si, i don’t know why you got them- they much prefer you anyway”

“they like you, sweet’art- everything likes you”

it’s not as if they dislike you, they’ll sleep on the floor on your side of the bed and they’ll sit at your feet under your spot on the couch. sometimes when you’re wandering the house doing chores you can hear their claws on the floor just a few steps behind you.

almost like they’d been trained that way.

simon likes knowing they’re there to keep you company. that if someone chose their misfortune by trying to hurt you and simon wasn’t there to kill them himself? he knows something just as primal as he will do it for him.

so when he comes home from deployment late at night with no warning (as usual) and his boots are loud on the concrete outside as he approaches, he can see movement in the glass by the front door.

he knows it’s you, he’d know you with his eyes plucked out. he doesn’t like the idea that you might be afraid right now, hearing movement and having to investigate it on your own.

he’s about to speak up, to let you know it’s him and let you rest- but something stops him. he’s dead silent so he can hear it, you let out one sharp whistle.

suddenly, two large heads appear at either hip flanking you- simon’s sure he can hear growling all the way from here. he can’t help the smile that forms beneath his balaclava.

“s’alright”

growling stopped, lights come on.

“daddy’s home”

#ok you can ignore that last line if you must- it’s in jest anyway #but maybe #nah kidding #unless #older bf!simon #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley blurb #simon riley drabble #simon ghost riley blurb #simon ghost riley drabble #dogs

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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months ago

Text

Shots III

Magdalena Eriksson x Child!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You need a flu shot

"So they just jab it in?" Frido asks over dinner, mouth open and eyes wide.

"Yeah," Magda says, nodding furiously," Needle out and just jabbed in." She demonstrates with her hand. "It's the worst. It hurts her super bad."

"That's awful. You'd think they'd find a pain-free version to deliver vaccines. But she's all caught up, right?"

Magda shakes her head. "I forgot to take her to get her flu shot before we left Germany. Pernille's so mad at me."

"But we're only in camp, right? There's no way she's going to sick. I mean-"

Frido's cut off by a loud sneeze from Filippa followed by a brutal round of coughing.

"Pernille's going to kill you."

Magda groans, burying her head in her hands. "I've arranged with the team doctors to give Princesse her shot here."

"But..." Frido frowns. "She won't like it here anymore if we make her get shots!"

"I think that's Pernille's plan," Magda replies," If we give Princesse shots here then she'll stop wanting to come. It's genius."

"It's rude."

"Still genius though."

Frido sighs loudly, shaking her head. "I can't believe you put us in this position, Magda! Why couldn't you have just taken her to get her shot in Germany?"

"It slipped my mind!"

"Well now she's going to slip away from Sweden!" Frido continues," We can't let her start going back to Denmark! She'll want to play for their team soon enough! We can't lose her!"

"I know!" Magda replies," But I also don't want to lose Princesse privileges and that will definitely happen if we don't take her to get her shot."

"This is awful," Frido bemoans," I can't believe it's come to this."

Zećira, who had been silent through the entire conversation, sighs. "You're so dramatic."

Dramatic or not, Magda is forced to take you to get your flu shot. Pernille might actually kill her if she doesn't and Frido tags along for the ride, supposedly to remind you of all the great things Sweden has that Denmark hasn't like IKEA and Zećira.

"I know Zećira is here," You tell Frido as Magda leads you into the doctor's office," She's always here."

"I know," Frido says," But just remember how much you like being taught by Zećira."

"I know that!" You say, cheeks puffed out in annoyance," You're being weird!"

Before Frido can defend herself though, Magda hauls you up onto the little bed set up in the room.

"So," The nice doctor man says," Just a flu shot, is that right?"

"That's right."

"Morsa forgot to take me when we were in Germany," You tell him, much to Magda's embarrassment," Momma yelled at her for ages and ages and ages and ages-"

"She's never had a reaction to them before?" The doctor asks Magda.

"-And ages and ages and ages-"

"No reactions," Magda confirms, feeling a sense of nausea creeping in," She's always been fine with them."

"-And ages and ages!" You finish," And Morsa had to sleep on the sofa and I took her space in the Big Bed!"

The nice doctor man smiles at you. "That sounds cool." He wheels himself closer. "Can you open your mouth for me, please?"

You do as you're told and he inspects your throat before moving his hands to check your neck hasn't swelled up. He checks your temperature too and whatever he finds satisfies him because he wheels away to get the medicine Morsa said you were getting given today.

Frido has to hold her breath. it's been a long time since she's had to have any shots herself. She's forgotten what they look like.

Tears already start building in her eyes as the doctor brings out the syringe, uncapping the top.

It doesn't look sharp. In fact it doesn't look like any needle Frido's ever seen before and that makes it so much worse.

It doesn't look like it would easily go into skin so it's definitely going to hurt you a lot.

She sucks in a ragged gasp for air before holding her breath again.

"Have you ever had this done before?" The nice doctor man asks and you nod your head.

"Momma took me last year!"

"And did it look like this?"

You study it for a moment. "Uh-huh."

"Well, it looks like you're a pro. You ready?"

"Yes."

To Frido and Magda's horror, he positions the syringe in your nose, releasing the vaccine quickly before turning to do the same with your other nostril.

"I...I think I feel sick," Frido says, clutching her tummy.

She doesn't know why you're not crying. It must have hurt much more to have the needle jabbed into your nose twice.

She had no idea doctors were working out ways to make kids hate having shots even more.

"All done!" The doctor says," Would you like a sticker?"

"Yes, please!"

You choose a sticker with a kitten on it, slamming it straight onto your shirt before jumping down from the bed.

Frido and Magda are still clutching each other, traumatised from what they've just witnessed.

You frown. "You're both being weird. It was just a spray."

Magda freezes. "Huh?"

"I makes my nose all tingly but I'm fine!" You give them both a beaming smile.

"A spray?"

"Yes," The doctor says," We've started to move away from giving young children actually injections to help against flu. The nasal spray is much more effective...and painless."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfö #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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lani-heart · 7 months ago

Text

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mentions of violence, mention of putting down / death, etc. words -> 4.2K

abstract -> "Lets make it up to eachother!"

y/n's perspective

“She’s awake! Get the doctor!” I heard and my vision was doubled while my head was throbbing. Where was I? The last thing I remember was…

“Then why don’t you run?”

Did he actually run? Was he finally free like he wanted? How does a hybrid escape without pretending to be human? Oh yeah… the black market.

If he did... I hope it was successful and not all for nothing.

“y/n? How are you feeling?” I heard and I looked to my side. “Jeno… how’s school been?” I offered him a smile and didn’t have to see his face to know he was concerned for me. “Good, I've been focusing on this internship and well I try my best to not lose sleep,” he said and I smiled. “Haechan should learn from you,” I said and I heard his soft laughter.

“How… are they?” I asked and he sighed. “Let’s get you checked out first. I’ll let Taeyong-hyung explain,” he said and I knew it was probably bad.

“Y/n the doctor is gonna come in and do some tests, you’ll be given pain medication and you currently have stitches so this will scar. We’ll set up future appointments” I heard as I saw Johnny enter the room.

I wonder if they're okay.

seonghwa’s perspective

Last week we were finally let out. That would mean she's dead or alive to have them do action. I don't know what they did to San or Hongjoong yet. But I was in observation to see if I should be considered for a breeding farm.

I heard them talk… I had no chance of adoption. My only option was a hybrid farm where their only purpose is to reproduce. It also gave me little hope that she was alive.

I know she’s scared of me… but she would’ve tried to convince them otherwise. I also did hear that Yeosang and Wooyoung were code greens ready for adoption but Wooyoung has been in the medical wing.

“If I could, those tigers would be shipped off. Hongjoong is excessively violent, he killed her. What am I supposed to tell San? Or Wooyoung? Those hybrids are far too dependent on her. If they knew, San would become a bigger threat to himself and Wooyoung would join him” I heard. She was dead…?

I may have not had a lot of hope but a part of me hoped she was alive. Oh, Hongjoong… we caused a mess.

“Seonghwa, you have a check” I heard as they opened my curtain. I saw the employee now opening the glass door. “I’m sorry,” I said… and he looked at me confused.

“If… if I didn’t help her she’d still be alive. Even then I could’ve stopped–" "Seonghwa none of this is your fault, I'm sorry your future isn’t looking too bright,” he said and I felt the tears run down my face.

“My future was never meant to bright”

yeosang's perspective

She was alive. I knew she had to be… there's no way she'd die.

I was in isolation. My records unfortunately were publicly known when I was in here. The accident at a popular apartment complex where politicians, CEOs, and even idols lived took pictures of what happened. They warned me… she called in asking if I was gonna be put up for adoption. If… she was dead. I would get a horrible punishment for defying her… maybe even move the country?

“Yeosang, are you ready for some air?” I heard one of the employees. I remember him being called… Jaemin? He was a friend of hers. “Any news?” I asked and he sighed.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be fine” he said and I nodded. “Do you believe that?” I asked and it caught him off guard. He was supposed to make me feel better. I know he’s not allowed to say anything…

“Look… she’s the strongest person I know. The last time I saw her, Johnny promised to make sure she was alright and my friend worked with him. She’s in a stable condition”

liar. He was lying…

“You don’t believe me do you?” he asked and I shook my head.

“She’s… not in stable condition. In fact, they're trying their best to monitor her at all times–” “What’s wrong with her?” I asked and he sighed. We started walking outside as he looked to think about what he’d say.

“Hongjoong when he clawed her jaw hit a vein connected to her heart. The week before when Kun was there, she flatlined but I know she’s stable now we just need her to wake up. If not she might be in a coma for longer than we’d hope” he explained and I could only feel hatred for those tigers and myself… I pushed her, and I misinterpreted her feelings. She was scared of them… and even us.

“Is there hope?” I asked and his smile said everything. It was forced and I could see the glassy look in his eyes. “There's always hope”

Liar.

wooyoung’s perspective

“Wooyoung you need to eat, we don’t want to put you up with the purple code hybrids. She’s not gonna be happy when–” “How can she feel anything? She’s not here… she’s dead isn't she?” I cut him off. The doctor sighed and shook his head.

“No, she's not dead,” he said and I didn’t believe him.

“Do it for her… don’t you think she’ll be distraught to see you in a worse state than before? When she saw you she said she was heartbroken. To know that you were a depressed hybrid… that those who promised her to take care of you weren’t–" "She’s not here!” I yelled.

“Let me mourn her… she isn’t coming back,” I said and I was fully convinced. She would’ve been here already, she’s gone. I should’ve been there.

“Wooyoung you need to take care of yourself, your weight is dropping and you’ll start to get sick..” I turned him out. I didn’t feel hungry… not when I used to live a fantasy almost two weeks ago now. I was hopeful at first…

but then she never came back.

san’s perspective

The world… stopped.

My world stopped… code purple. For hybrids who are dangerous to themselves, mainly ones who experience such stress, or depression they harm themselves.

Would it be so bad to be with her again? Constrained and isolated… How was Wooyoung doing? Was he like me?

I missed the feeling of that collar on my neck, the feeling of her warmth, I miss her. Where is she? How long has it been since I've been here?

Surely only a few hours… I wonder when she’ll be here. Maybe in a few hours?

“San, how are you feeling?” I heard and I finally saw someone after they put me here. “I’m… tired,” I said, I was tired, my mind felt like I was spinning and I felt sick.

“Do you remember what I told you last time?” he asked me. “What?” I asked and he sighed. “San, I've been here three times a day for two weeks now,” he said and I was confused. I laughed, “It's only been a few hours…” I said and he shook his head.

“I’ll remind you later, today we thought it would be good to take you outside” he said and I shook my head. “San, do you remember when you arrived here after the fight? You lost any sense of time and thought you lived the same day over and over again. You improved so much afterwards… she would want you to improve and get adopted again” he said and I shook my head.

“I am adopted, she’s my mate” I said and he sighed almost like he was tired.

“San, we’ve been having the same conversation for the past two weeks, almost three times a day”

hongjoong’s perspective

My hands felt dirty… They didn’t let me go to the cells anymore.

I need to get rid of her blood. I didn't mean to kill her. I… where was Seonghwa? Was he okay? Did he get adopted already? Maybe she’s alive and she took them… but not me.

I don’t deserve it… besides living with humans? I hate them… I hate her… but I want to apologize. I hope she’s okay. I want her to be okay. But is she? Why would they send me away if that's the case, they were preparing to send me off.

I was slowly accepting what I was destined for… I was gonna die. Born into a circus, I was always gonna die.

“You’re scheduled to leave in three days” I heard. It was the main doctor… “Dr. Doyoung will take you in to check your wounds,” he said and I was unchained from the ground to be led to the medical wing.

He knocked on the door when it revealed another employee… and Wooyoung? He looked… starved. His eyes looked lifeless and dark circles prominent.

He looked up at me to not even react. They led him away, speaking to him in a cheerful voice as if wanting to cheer him up. “You ruined the lives of four hybrids,” the behaviorist said to me.

“What's wrong with him?” I asked and he scoffed.

“The healthiest right now is probably Seonghwa and Yeosang. Yeosang though is still clinging to her being alive, while Wooyoung has refused to be cooperative with this severe depressive episode, even San has lost all sense of time and is worse. All humans aren't evil, but you let that control you and even ruined your own chance to actually live” he said as I went inside the room to see the doctor.

I… I'm sorry…

y/n’s perspective

“Two weeks?” I asked and they nodded. “Johnny and Jeno tried their best to take care of you… but you were asleep for two weeks and they thought for a minute your body was in shock, especially after your flatline last week.

“I… what?” I was confused with everything. Two weeks I was out… What happened to them? “You’re okay physically, the tests they've done should help and it looks like they helped you gain some strength to walk despite being comatose for two weeks” he explained and I nodded.

“Curious about anything?” Taeyong asked and I wanted to ask but I was scared. “I’m curious. Curious as to why you were suddenly scared of your hybrids. Kun told me that your hybrids said you started to be detached and started avoiding them and it was clarified that you were scared” he said and I nodded.

“When I did the interviews… Hongjoong mentioned that hybrids do anything to survive even if they pretend to like their owners” I said and he laughed at me. “You’ve clearly forgotten how those three looked at you. Wooyoung used to– actually has been obsessed with you for years, Yeosang is the most overprotective hybrid i've ever seen and San? He loves you… he was your first hybrid and he… he’s a code purple right now” he said and i stopped. I felt frozen…

“A… a code purple?” I said hoping I heard wrong and he nodded.

“He’s lost track of time… he thinks it's been hours. His mind is scattered in events, sometimes he’ll think he’s there because he attacked you and become depressed, or he’ll think the attack was minutes before and scream that he’ll kill that tiger. The worst of it is, right now… he’s waiting for you to show up in front of him. He thinks it's been hours and you’ll recover soon, for him it hasn't been two weeks”' he explained and he wiped my cheek.

“He… he’s no, you're messing with me. San… I need to see him!” I declared and he grabbed my elbow. “You shouldn't be so rash. No one knows you’ve recovered… Kun thinks you're as good as dead. He was there when you flatlined and thought there's no hope” he said and everything was overwhelming.

“I need to see him,” I pleaded and he smiled. “And we will, just let me go to the station first. We’ll go later today, I want to take you back home–" "No” I refused and he sighed.

“The blood is clean… Wonyoung had people clean your apartment–" "It won’t feel right with them not there” I argued and he sighed.

“Give me a few hours then, I'll call Yuta and Shotaro, they'll take care of you,” he said and I sighed. “I’m a grown woman I don’t need to be taken care of” I argued and he nodded.

“Okay… but they’ll meet with you to make sure you're okay, '' he said and I nodded. “I can walk–” “I need time alone… I know where they work” I said and he nodded. “Be careful, you just–” “Taeyong please” I pleaded and he nodded as he left.

I couldn't stop the tears flowing down. I was an idiot… I doubted them and I failed Hongjoong… I need to talk to him–

“Why are you crying again?” I heard as I noticed a man in front of me. It was the man that helped me before. “It's been a long day” I answered and he nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but please don’t cry, surely whatever it is it can be fixed?” he said with a cheerful smile. “Have you ever owned a hybrid?” I asked and his eyes widened. “Only one,” he said and I nodded. “How do you know their feelings are genuine and they actually love you?” I asked and he chuckled.

“That's an interesting question… Well, hybrids are known for faking they care but that's a rare few. If you treat them with love and care I can assure you they will be the same” he said and I nod.

“What if they fake it though, even if you love them to the best of your ability?” I asked and he hummed. “Well, a hybrid can fake words, but the things they do have meaning. Where– I mean hybrids are like animals by the end of the day. They have animal habits they follow, like uhm bunnies circle around their owners, fox hybrids are dependent on owners and usually bond to one person for the rest of their life–" "What about canines and panthers?” I asked and he chuckled.

“That's a weird pair?” he laughed and I smiled.

“Well, panther hybrids only really expose themselves to their owners when they fully trust them so sleeping is a big one. Uhm… panthers are actually known to cook or feed their mates as an act of love? –” San often would feed me off his own plate and make me eat more… and he would always say how he preferred sleeping in my room.

He was showing he trusted me…

“– Dog hybrids however, are known to scent their mates and groom them? So dog hybrids will often fix their owners hair or males would often scent their owner to tell others to back off” he explained and suddenly Yeosang made much more sense to me.

“I can tell you're a good hybrid owner… any hybrid would be lucky for someone to care about them like you do” he said and I smiled.

“Thank you…?” I didn't know his name. “Oh? Uhm my name! My name is… Yunho” he said and I smiled. “Thank you, Yunho! My name is y/n” I said and he smiled.

“It was my pleasure, ah! I think you dropped this?”

Yuta and Shotaro were spamming my phone.

I was now in front of the infamous building… The Seoul Hybrid Rehabilitation Center.

I entered and I was immediately greeted by a shocked Haechan. I smiled at the boy who couldn’t even produce a sentence. “YOU'RE OKAY!” he yelled and I laughed as he hugged me tight. “We were convinced you weren’t gonna wake up” he muttered and I ruffled his hair. “Where's Kun?” I asked and he sighed. “Kun cares about you a lot… so does Doyoung but Kun sees you like his little sister–”

“Haechan, what's going on with him?” I asked and he sighed

“He’s planning on sending Wooyoung and San to Jeju’s Rehabilitation Center, as for Yeosang… There's a threat of legal action with his previous owner, Seonghwa is going to be moved to a breeding farm, and Hongjoong is being sent out of Korea '' he explained and I was speechless.

“W-What?” I asked and he nodded. “Kun right now is out but he’ll be back soon–” “Take me to San,” I said and he shook his head. “Only Kun and Doyoung have the key to get in there… and you're not supposed to be allowed without them knowing,” he said and I smiled.

“Please, let me see one of them?” I asked and he nodded. “I can take you to Yeosang,” he said and I nodded. He talks to have someone come get me and lead me to Yeosang.

“y/n?” I heard and saw Renjun. I smiled softly and offered a hug. “I'm so glad you're okay! When did you get discharged” he asked and I sighed. “Maybe two hours ago?” I said and he scoffed. “You should be resting–” “I need to see if they're okay” I cut him off and he nodded.

He leads me around the green code hybrids seeking adoption until we go towards the ones who have not been cleared for adoption.

“He’s missed you a lot,” he said and I smiled. He opened the curtain and I saw he was asleep. “Jaemin has been trying his best to cheer up him and Wooyoung but it's been hard for them,” he said and I nodded. “I’m only doing this cause I know he won’t hurt you and he is still your hybrid,” he said as he opened the kennel and waited for me to enter.

I nod and go in to kneel close to his bed. I pet his ears softly as he whined and opened his eyes slightly. “Hello, sleeping beauty,” I said and his ears flattened on his head.

“Are you real?” he asks as he grabs my hand, tightening it as if I'd disappear. “I’m real, Yeosang,” I said and he sat up looking at me for what felt like a few minutes before he started crying.

“Please, be real! I… I miss you” he said as he hugged me tightly. I rubbed it back as he sobbed. “I’m here, I promise,” I said and he pulled away to look at me. I wanted to cry too… so many times I got into my head that he faked everything to hide away from his owner when I should’ve known better.

His hand cupped my jaw to where my bandages lay. “Does it hurt?” he asked and I smiled. “I’ll heal,” I said and he nodded.

“I’m sorry for making you adopt them–” “It's not your fault… I got in my own head. Hongjoong is rough around the edges–” “You shouldn’t defend him” he said angrily and I smiled.

“Yeosang…. He was wronged. I should’ve voiced my thoughts sooner, but he deserves a second chance. What you suggested was sweet… he’s lived tormented by humans so he deserves to feel loved even if he doesn't know how to accept it” I said and his eyes widened. He nods…

“You’re too good to be real. I still don’t believe you're actually here… maybe you're a true angel visiting me in my dreams'' he said and I chuckled. “I don’t have wings or a halo,” I said and he chuckled.

“Doesn’t mean you aren't an angel to me” he said and I smiled.

“y/n?” I heard and I looked behind me to see Doyoung. “Did Haechan tell you?” I asked and he nodded. “I-I’m, why didn’t they tell us you were awake?!” he asked and I smiled while looking at Yeosang. “Well, I did wake up two hours ago,” I said and Yeosang laughed. “You should be resting,” he said and I smiled.

“I know… Doyoung. Can I see San?” I asked and he sighed. “I don’t have the key… Kun has taken charge of seeing Hongjoong and San, I only see them to check up on them” he said and I nodded.

“And… Wooyoung?” I asked and he sighed almost nervously.

“He’s… he needs to see you”

Yeosang was gonna be checked one last time by Doyoung while he led me in front of Wooyoung’s kennel. “Be careful with him… he’s been worse than I've ever seen him” he said and Yeosang didn’t want to let go of my hand.

“I’ll be here when you're out, I promise,” I said and he didn’t look convinced. “When have I ever lied to you? Or broken a promise?” I asked and he nodded.

They leave me alone with Wooyoung’s key. I knock before opening the door… It's to tell the hybrid I'm going in. I open it and see that he’s already staring at the door. His eyes widened.

“y/n?” he said and I noticed how hoarse his voice was. How skinny he was… how tired he looked. “Hello, Woo,” I said, trying my best to offer a happy smile as I felt my vision blur. “You're… alive?” he said, confused and not moving.

“Missed me?” I said and I sat down on the floor to sit at eye level with him. “I…” he was speechless. I smiled as I hugged him… his tears and sobs broke my heart. The way he tightened his grip on my body and let out cries was the only thing I could focus on.

He struggled with words as he sobbed.

“I... I lost- any hope that you were alive!” he let out and I felt a serious ache in my heart. “I’m sorry,” I said and he shook his head as he let go and ghosted his hand on my jaw. “It's not your fault,” he said and I knew what he suggested.

“It's not his fault either… I should’ve talked about what I was feeling "I said and he said nothing but hugged me. We sat there on the floor with him hugging me in silence.

“Wooyoung '' I heard as I saw Yeosang in his regular clothes and his collar. “Yeosang?” he said as he lifted his head without letting me go to see his friend. “The doctor wants to see you so he can discharge you,” he said and he tightened his grip on me.

“I’ll still be here… you get to be in comfortable clothes and your collar again,” I said and he nodded letting go but did move to leave.

“She’ll still be here,” Yeosang said and Wooyoung nodded. “Can… Can we get food from that street food market?” he asked and I smiled. “Anything you want,” I said and he nodded. He leaves but not without looking at me one last time and giving me a slight smile.

Progress…

“Are you gonna take in those tigers again?” Yeosang asked and I sighed. “I hate how I… I want to give them a second chance. A better chance without me being scared of them… I took them in because they wanted a better life and I didn’t even try like I did with you, Wooyoung, and San” I explain and nod.

“I don’t trust them” he said and I smiled. “And you have every right to,” I said.

“y/n?” I heard and I saw Jaemin who looked at me with the biggest smile. “How are you doing?” I said and he chuckled. “You see Yeosang, she’s okay,” he said and Yeosang nodded. “Jaemin? Can you take me to Seonghwa?” I asked and he sighed. “The tigers are gonna be transferred–” “Kun can’t do that, I'm still their owner,” I said and he chuckled.

“You're the same as ever. Let me take you there then, I'd rather not be sued and in debt even more than I am” he said and I chuckled.

“Yeosang, stay here for Wooyoung,” I said and he shook his head getting ready to argue– “He needs someone here, and I’ll be back,” I said and he nodded reluctantly.

I followed Jaemin when I noticed he was also a code green hybrid. “Seonghwa, you have a visitor,” Jaemin said as he opened the curtain first.

He looked at me shocked.

“You're… I’m sorry! I should’ve stopped Hongjoong, please I-I’m so–” “Seonghwa it isn't your fault '' I said while giving him a smile and he looked at me with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry for not offering you what I did to my hybrids' ' I said and he looked confused. “You deserve a second chance… so does Hongjoong. Let me make it up to you” I said and he shook his head.

“I… I should be asking that of you!” he said desperately and I smiled.

“Let's make it up to each other then!” I said and he was frozen… “I… why do you still want me?” he asked and I shrugged. “You’re a sweet hybrid… a farm doesn’t suit you at all,” I said and I could see tears forming in his eyes.

“I… I really am sorry I wasn't–” “It's not your fault, you… were the sweetest. You tried so hard to earn a place with me and I know you deserve it. So I'm sorry for letting Hongjoong’s words get into my head, I really do think you deserve better Seonghwa '' I said and he was silent.

“Do you accept me?” I asked and he smiled softly.

“If you’ll take me”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

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minisugakoobies · 8 months ago

Text

It's You - Choi San | 3 AM

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around, sloppy making out, lots of cuddling and kissing, honestly this is super soft, drunk San is a whole different type of menace, a little angst on OC's part, pet names deployed as weapons (baby) Word Count: 2.1k Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: This started with talking about drunk San with @minttangerines and @kiestrokes, and then @moni-logues made me miss this couple, so boom! New vignette! I should warn you that I wrote this over the course of 2 days, entirely between the hours of midnight and 5 am because I've been staying up wayyyy too late to watch the Coachella livestreams (can we talk about Chellateez?! because holy shit!), so it's probably a mess and it's unbeta'd, so… blame any typos or incoherency on my fucked up sleep schedule! 🥱

Lyrics are from "Moondance" by Van Morrison, inspired by that one toktoq of San singing that song, which absolutely killed me.

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

It’s three in the morning, and you’re wide awake, at your desk, working frantically on an article whose deadline is mere hours away. For not the first time tonight, you curse your natural inclination towards procrastination and scrub your hand down your face, wishing you’d chosen a different career.

There’s some noise outside your door and you realize San must be home. He’d been down at the Blue Bird with Hongjoong, drinking and hanging out with Wooyoung as he bartended. From the way San’s shuffling around, it sounds like Woo had been his typical kind self and given San more generous pours than he should have. A loud “oof” resonates, and you hear the armchair scrape the floor a bit, as if he were setting it back in its place. You wince, hoping he didn’t wake his sister, who has an early shift and needs to be up at dawn.

“Noona. Nooooooona.” Tap tap tappity tap. “Are you up? I can see - I can see your light.”

San raps on your door, calling out to you in a voice that’s hushed but maybe not quite as quiet as he thinks it is. From his spot on your bed, Nero lifts his head off his paws at the sound, then blinks at you with his bright green eyes.

“I know. He’s loud as fuck, isn’t he?” With a cluck of your tongue, you quickly hop up and open the door. San must’ve been leaning against it, because suddenly you’ve got a mountain on top of you, a loose-limbed one at that, eagerly but clumsily wrapping its arms around you. “San!”

“Hiiiii,” San coos into your shoulder, where he’s buried his face. You shudder slightly as his breath tickles your skin exposed by the tank top you wear, and stagger away from the door enough to close it quietly as you can, not an easy task to do given the giant mass of man hanging his dead weight on you.

“You know, your sister is sleeping just on the other side of this wall,” you remind him, but he doesn’t respond, too busy lathering the column of your neck with tiny kisses. “San. Come on, sit down.”

With some stumbling from San and a not insignificant effort on your part, the two of you make it over to your bed. Your attempt at coaxing San into a sitting position fails miserably as he promptly splays on his back, pulling you on top of him. Nero hops off the bed in a huff.

You go down like a sack of flour, not a gram of gracefulness in your fall, but San appears not to notice when your chin bounces off his sternum or your knee rams his thigh. He sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around your back, tucking you against him.

“Mmmm. So nice,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

It’s three in the morning, and you need to finish this damn article. Except that right now, your body is telling you that what you really need is to stay exactly where you are. Because the minute the warmth of San’s embrace surrounded you, your stress melted away. The steady rise and fall of his chest calms you, makes your own breathing slow. You close your eyes, nestling closer to him, sliding your own arms around his waist. You could so easily fall asleep like this.

But he can’t sleep here.

“San. San, are you awake?”

“I’m awake,” he replies, but with closed eyes, which doesn’t really give you a lot of confidence in his response. “I am,” he insists when you shake him, rolling his head away, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Don’t fall asleep,” you warn him sternly. “I mean it!”

San smiles, the one that tells you that he knows you’re going to give in to him, which is the smile you tend to see him flash the most often, because you’re weak for him and always giving in. But this isn’t one of those times when you can indulge him. No matter how much you want to.

“Wish you’d come to the bar tonight. Wanted you there.”

You knew that. He’d told you as much when he’d texted earlier. Unfortunately, you had to turn him down for the sake of remaining gainfully employed. He’d tried to convince you otherwise at first but finally said he understood. And then sent you a series of sad selfies, each one more pathetic than the last, lips puffing to an extreme. Because he understands the power that pout holds over you.

It’s embarrassing how bad you’re down for this man.

San’s fingers dance idly down your spine, and you sigh, eyes slipping shut again as you speak. “Believe me, I would’ve rather been there with you.”

He hums, fingertips quickening their light minuet. He mumbles something into your hair, low and unintelligible from the way his lips are smushed against your head, so it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s not talking, he’s singing.

“... marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes…”

“San,” you begin, but before you can warn him not to get any louder, he does so anyway, raising his beautiful voice a little, starting to get into it.

“A fantabulous night to make romance, 'neath the cover of October skies…”

“Shhh!” Your shushing is cut short by your giggling, as you clap a hand over San’s mouth. “Oh my god, now is not the time for this!”

This is one of San’s more notable habits - when a song gets stuck in his head, you’ll hear him singing it for days, just walking around the apartment humming the melody or, if he has an audience, belting out the lines. He knows how much you love his sweet tenor. Another fact about you he’s filed away to devastate you with at the most opportune times.

Like when you need to kick him out of your bed.

He continues singing despite your hand pressing on his lips, slurring the words directly into your palm. His eyebrows are working overtime, top half of his face playfully conveying whatever lyrics are being smothered against your skin. He’s so ridiculous, so over-the-top, even at three in the morning when anyone else would be exhausted, like you felt before he walked into your room, since his energy is infectious and perked you up better than the multiple cups of coffee you downed in your desperate attempt to stay awake. That’s San for you - he’s always giving you something when you need it - his time, his help, his energy.

So you decide to give him something back, and replace your hand with your mouth, drawing him into a tender kiss, imbuing it with all those things you feel but never say. His muffled singing becomes a hum becomes a moan, at first surprised, then pleased. One of his hands drops to your thigh and with a bit of urgent tugging, he maneuvers you on top of him, chest pressed to chest.

His kissing is only the slightest bit sloppier when he’s been drinking, wetter from his tongue caressing yours with somewhat less skill than usual, but it’s never bothered you. You like seeing this side of him, looser with his inhibitions, with whatever holds him in place - or holds him back. One day you’ll ask him to show you more, when you’re both sober.

And when things are different. Less… ambiguous between the two of you.

If you reach that point.

“Noona.” San whispers, thankfully pulling you from the heavier thoughts threatening to sink you right out of the moment. You open your eyes to look at him as he pecks your cheeks. “I like kissing you.”

You grin, letting your forehead knock against his. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The look he gives you would melt the hardest of hearts. This is why you’re not afraid to be needy with San. There’s no reason to be, not when he’s just the same.

“I like kissing you too,” you declare, kissing the tip of his nose, laughing at the way his eyes cross as he follows your lips. “But now’s not the time for that, either.”

“Then what time is it?”

Laughing, you gently guide him into a sitting position, keeping your arms looped over his shoulders. His lust is morphing into sleepiness, eyelids drooping as he gazes at you, and your heart goes so soft at the sight of him.

“It’s time for you to go to bed.”

“Okay,” he chirps, immediately flopping onto his back again.

“Ohhhh no, not here. You gotta go. I still have to finish my work, and you…” The words stick in your throat. You can’t be here. You don’t want to say them. You want him to be here. Tonight, and tomorrow, and on and on.

But that’s a conversation for another time. Not three in the morning.

“You have to go,” you groan, sliding off the bed and grabbing his arms, less gentle and more insistent this time. “Come on, get up!”

San lets out a whine of protest. “But baby, why can’t I stay here?”

Oh, he would drop a ‘baby’ now, slipping it in so casually, so naturally, like there’s nothing unusual about him calling you that. As if it’s not something new he only started doing the other day, happening maybe a handful of times since.

Since the two of you have been doing this undefined thing, there’s really only been one unspoken rule. You sleep in your bed, and he sleeps on the couch. Even on the nights when Haneul’s working the late shift, or she’s over at Jongho’s. You never know if she’ll come home early, so you don’t risk it. It’s just easier this way.

Doesn’t mean you like it, though.

“Because. If Haneul catches you coming out of here - “

The sound of a door opening makes you freeze right down to your tongue, leaving your sentence unfinished. Your head swivels towards your own door. A pair of feet pad down the hall, getting closer, then fading away, until you hear another door being closed. The bathroom.

“Noona.”

You turn to find a sober-looking San staring at you. He reaches out, hands settling on your hips, holding on to you as you stand between his legs. Clinging again.

“She’s in early today, right?”

The two of you probably know Haneul’s schedule better than she does. You nod.

“Then I’ll just stay in here. She’ll think I never came home.”

He makes it sound so simple. So reasonable. He’ll stay here until she leaves. Why didn’t you think of that? Is it because you don’t like thinking of San with someone else, even if said person is an imaginary person who exists solely to provide an excuse that will allow you to get what you want? And if you get what you want now, it’s only going to hurt more when you can’t have it anymore?

Yeah, that’s probably it.

“I don’t know…” you bite your lip.

“Come on,” he wheedles, drawing you into his lap again, cupping your face with both hands. “Let me stay with you. Don’t you want me?”

And there it goes, the last remaining bit of your resistance.

“Okay.”

San seems a little shocked, face lighting up in delight, and you wonder if it’s at how quickly you agreed, or that you agreed at all. Maybe both.

“But we have to be quiet. So, you know…” You trail off, gesturing wordlessly.

“No moondancing?” He emphasizes the word heavily, lifting a brow, and you roll your eyes but grin as well.

“Right, none of that.”

“Just cuddles?”

As if he needs to ask. You nod. “But I’m not coming to bed until I finish my work.” You reclaim your seat at your desk, folding your arms over the back of it, trying to give the appearance of someone with a solid backbone, since yours is apparently made of pudding.

“That’s okay,” San says, already tugging his shirt off, then his pants, until he’s only in his boxer briefs. He peels back your comforter, sliding into the soft sheets, and again the action is so natural, so normal, like he does this every night, that something in your chest constricts. “I’ll just wait for you.”

Your first thought is that you should inform him that he’s going to be waiting a while, but then again, maybe he won’t.

You’re feeling suddenly inspired.

(It’s three in the morning, and you’re falling in love.)

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch

#ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #san x reader #choi san x reader #san fanfic #ateez angst #choi san fanfic #fic: it's you

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chronically-ghosted · 10 months ago

Text

i wonder if you stopped his world like you did mine

rating: teen

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

word count: 5K

summary: watching the woman he loves be with someone else is killing him, but for your sake, he manages. But when Benny's birthday loosens him up, he can't help but bear his soul over a phone call. Too bad you don't pick up and he's forced to leave the evidence in a voicemail.

tags/warnings: pining, light angst, idiots in love, country music as a catalyst, romance, tw alcohol, tw drinking, hangovers, ultimately very fluffy

a/n: Happy Valentine's Day @toomanystoriessolittletime! I hope you receive and give all the love you need and want! I've had this idea for a while, but once I saw that Frankie was your fave, I knew I had to do it!

one day i’m gonna do the series of all of my favorite country songs with a Pedro boy. This is one of them: Singles You Up by Jordan Davis. Had thoughts of Me and My Kind by Cody Johnson for our ever-fantastic Jack Daniels and Hurricane by Luke Combs for Joel. One day, my loves, one day.

🤍Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist

Frankie Morales has a problem.

Given the life expectancy in his line of work – all things considered – it really wasn’t that bad of a problem. Sure, his knees were busted, his shoulder aches when it was cold out, and his ex keeps hounding him for money he doesn’t have. But on the flipside, his little family unit of friends and brothers united by combat are (mostly) all alive and healthy. He has a steady job and his little girl, whom he loves and adores, thinks the sun shines out of his ass. All things considered, there’s not much else he can ask for. He’s far better off than some of the men and women at Will’s talks, or in Santiago’s field teams.

So – really, truly, seriously – all things considered . . . he can’t classify this as a bad problem.

In fact, this is a problem he would willingly have. Gladly even. Not quite joyously, but if it’s a choice between this problem and not having the problem at all, he will choose having this consistent, thorny, kind-of-hurts-to-breathe-sometimes problem every single time.

And right now, it’s wearing a dress.

Uh, well, you’re wearing a dress. An off-white, hinging-on-cream, dress that sits above your knees, cuts flat and wide across your chest, and puffs out into cotton sleeves that remind him of those conchas his abuela used to make. Sweet, fluffy, and absolutely forbidden.

Until the time is right, at least. His abuela always made him wait to eat until the time was right.

He calls it – you – a problem, when in fact, it’s the opposite of a problem. There is nothing he would ever want to change about the warm, engulfing feeling that starts somewhere in his stomach and rises like conchas up his spine until it’s somewhere in his ribs, then under his breastbone, right by his –

He would kill anyone who tried to take that feeling away from him. It’s when he feels most alive, most present, most out of his head – like these things in the dark and sleeping corners of his mind that nip and bite at him can’t find him. He’s thrown them off his scent in his search for you and, even for a brief moment, he can step into the light.

There is no problem, in how you look tonight, how you look every night, with your bright shining smile, sweet-smelling hair, cowboy boots, glass of whiskey – you had such a fantastic taste in –

Wait.

That’s not whiskey. Not even a whiskey glass.

That’s –

“White wine?” Benny yelps as he leans forward and his chair legs clatter against the concrete floor. “If that’s Moscato, I’m calling the cops because you’ve been replaced by an equally hot body double.”

You roll your eyes as you sit down and take a long drink from your glass, as if to make a point. Frankie’s eyes are drawn to where your dress hangs over your crossed legs, exposing the curve of your thigh.

“It’s not fucking Moscato, Benjamin,” you say, eyes narrowed, completely side-stepping his compliment, like you always do. “It’s Chardonnay. Nick recognized the vineyard on the menu so he recommended it. Thought I’d give it a try, because I like trying something new, Benjamin.”

He rolls those beautiful blue eyes and leans forward towards you at the table, that grin that brings grown women to their knees plastered across his face. He knocks back his cowboy hat with a tap of his knuckle.

“Well, excuse the fuck outta me.”

“The fuck outta you is excused.”

You tug his hat back down over his face, smirking back at him, just as Nick saunters over – with what looks to be a wine glass of his own.

Okay, in hindsight, you’re not the problem.

His real fucking problem is Nick.

Your boyfriend.

Frankie, who has decided to only drink beer around you since The Almost Incident, takes three long pulls so he doesn’t have to watch Nick and his stupid hands slide across your exposed back and sit down in Santi’s empty chair.

“Happy Birthday, man, thanks for inviting me out.” Nick says briefly, raising his glass to Benny. “But I gotta say, I was a little worried when my girl here said your party was gonna be at a country dance hall. I’ve never been to one of these. I had to buy cowboy boots just for the occasion.”

He sticks his leg out, and rotates his gator-skin boot back and forth as if to illustrate how important to him this whole thing is.

But Benny doesn’t look down, doesn’t approve the boots, or Nick’s attempt at fitting in. Instead, he just smirks, his smile growing fat and lazy, a bit of the warmth fading from his blue eyes.

“Your first time at a cowboy hoe-down? I had no idea.”

Nick grins, because he doesn’t know Benny well enough to see the dig for what it is. But you do. You know him and you know he’s ragging on your boyfriend. You narrow your eyes and shame coats Frankie’s chest. Because he knows also Benny and he knows why he’s giving Nick such a hard time.

See, the problem isn’t you, or even your boyfriend – not really.

Nick is actually a decent guy. He treats you right, if a little delicately, but he buys you drinks, takes you places Frankie could never afford, in a car Frankie could never ever afford. Sometimes, you’ll say something, or tell a story and it’s obvious Nick doesn’t really understand you or your jokes, but he smiles along anyway. He makes good money and supposedly he keeps in touch with his mom. Nick is the kind of guy any brother would want his sister to date.

So the problem isn’t that Nick is a bad boyfriend, but that he’s your boyfriend.

The problem that Frankie Morales has is that he is painfully, achingly, in love with you.

And he’s your friend.

Maybe that would change, if he ever could work up the guts to say something. For fuck’s sake, he’s killed people – asking you out can’t be that much worse (as Santi often reminds him). But if the guys you’re into are like Nick, or even Nick-adjacent, then what fucking chance does he have? He never thought money was important to you, but apparently it is and that’s something he definitely can’t give you.

Or maybe you like the stability of a high-paying job with fucking miraculous health-care. And that’s two things more he can’t offer: stability and health-care.

So, maybe, maybe his problem isn’t with you or Nick or the fact that Nick is your boyfriend. It’s that he never could be. He, with one failed marriage already behind him and a coke rap sheet, has nothing to give you . . .

And you deserve the world.

You deserve more than he can offer you. You deserve better than him.

That’s his real fucking problem. And one he can't ever fix.

Will couldn’t get off work to come to this, so he owed Benny a beer and a nice steak dinner – according to Benny. Santi, despite absolutely swearing up and down for a week he wouldn’t be caught dead in cowboy boots and a hat, showed up tonight in full gear, belt-buckle included because he lost a bet with Benny over the Thursday night game. Santi, like everything else in his life, researched the hell out of the two teams, their past history, older statistics of both the players and the coach. He was confident, so confident, that he put his pride on the line.

Never a good idea with Benny Miller.

I don’t know, Benny said at the sports bar when his team was whooping Santi’s team’s ass, I just had a good feeling. Presumably, Santi did three shots before leaving and with another two in his system at the bar, all anger and frustration and embarrassment and inhibition had melted away and now Santi was doing what Santi did best, especially when drunk: dancing with beautiful women.

“The son of a bitch can dance, I’ll give him that. ” Benny muses as the three of you watch Santi, who despite having been taught the moves three minutes ago by two gorgeous blondes, complete a perfect line dance of Copperhead Road.

“Oh, shit, I could never do that.” Nick shakes his head. “Not even after a hundred classes.”

“Ah, I find that hard to believe, Nicky Boy. You seem like a natural,” Benny smirks over the lip of his beer bottle. He finds Frankie’s eyes and winks.

You are not amused. You glare at him over Nick’s shoulder for the second time tonight.

“It’s really not that hard,” you smile tightly and squeeze Nick’s shoulder. “I can teach you.”

“Oh, yeah, don’t you know your girl here?” Benny leans back in his chair, balancing against the rung of Nick’s chair by the ball of his foot. “She used to put all of us to shame. Dancing the night away, leading the crowd in line dancing. In fact, if I remember correctly, she and Frankie used to get into all sorts a-trouble on the dance floor. Isn’t that right, Frankie?”

Now he drew a glare from you and Frankie.

Don’t, man, just don’t.

Benny shrugs, swallowing his smirk with another sip of beer, hands raised. Just trying to help out.

Over the speakers, the song winds to a close and the crowd does their final spin. Across the dance floor, Santi bows, his hat sweeping the floor, to both of the girls who giggle like high schoolers.

“I’m gonna go get Boot Scootin’ Boogie over there some water before he up-chucks all over those nice ladies.” Benny stands and fixes his hat. “You guys want anything?”

Frankie shakes his head, his own hat that Benny insisted he wear, making the line of sweat across his forehead itch. You and Nick decline as well. You’ve barely even touched your drink, Frankie notes with a certain level of satisfaction.

As Benny walks towards the bar, the next song starts up and you let out a squeal. Bring on The Good Times has been one of your favorite songs since college. And Frankie should know – he introduced it to you.

“This one is the best! A classic!” You grab Nick’s forearm, but he almost immediately pulls it back.

“Ah, babe, my first line dance is not gonna be in front of strangers! I’ll embarrass you and me. Why don’t you ask Frankie?”

Fuck, why could Nick just be a raging, flaming asshole? This would be so much fucking easier.

Frankie swallows his beer empty, an excuse for a refill prepped. He hates cowboy hats, but he’d fucking set fire to the sky for Benny – he just hopes he immolates himself in the process. The giant brim makes him feel like he’s got a neon sign over his head that blinks, I Am A Giant Dork. Only further proven if he gets anywhere near that dance floor with his two left feet.

Your eyes are unreadable as he tries to coax your boyfriend into taking you dancing.

“Nah, man, you got this. Your girl’s a great teacher.” By some cowboy miracle, his voice is steady as he says those two words. On the table, your fingers curl in, your wine glass still untouched.

Nick makes a face, eyes flitting back and forth to the dancers as they start the dance.

“My feet are already killing me in these new boots. Besides, this isn’t really my song.”

Over his shoulder, you find Frankie’s eyes. He knows that look on you – he knows everything about you – and you’re trying to hide how hurt you are.

He’s on his feet before he knows what he’s doing.

You and Nick stare up at him, surprised by how he practically bounded to his feet.

The sweat at the ring of his hat runs down the back of his neck. Frankie does the only thing halfway-normal and extends his hand.

“Alright, princesa, I’ll fill out your dance card.”

He doesn’t care, or even really register, the darkly confused frown Nick sends him when you stand up, take his hand, and smile at him. He feels warm all the way up to his chest.

“Thanks, Frankie. Let’s boogie.”

That was a mistake.

This whole fucking night is a mistake. God help him, he loves Benny like a brother but he should have just said no and promised to take him out later like Will. He would have bought Benny any drink, any ridiculous chicken wing plate he wanted if Frankie didn’t have to be here, right now.

Because right now, right now, that wall of self-control that he uses to stem the reservoir, to stem the flow of whatever you cause to pour out of him, it’s leaking. It’s busted holes and now he’s drenched with it – with the scent of you, with the memory of hair down the length of your neck, the heat of your skin overworked and flushed, the sweet taste of your breath in his mouth when you leaned forward, into his space, his senses, and whispered,

“C’mon, Frankie, you’re a better dancer than this.”

But in his defense, he couldn’t feel his feet, much less make them move when he watched you with your skirt rucked up high in your fists, your cowboy boots kicking like fish in a stream, and that smile – that fucking smile – brighter and sweeter than all the whiskey in the world.

C’mon, Frankie, you’re a better dancer than this

C’mon, Frankie, you’re better than this.

C’mon, Frankie, tell me you love me.

Kiss me, Frankie. Kiss me now.

His restraint, his resolve that he will never, ever have you – he can feel it throb beneath his palms. Shudder and wobble under the thundering of his heart. It’s so close to breaking. Too close. This is why he doesn’t drink anything harder than beer around you. This is why he rarely drinks around you at all.

When Nick finally calls it a night because he’s already got a blister from the new boots, you don’t put up much of a fight. You’ve danced with Benny, you’ve danced with Santi and his gaggle of girls, Nick himself went up for a slow dance or two.

Frankie only ever asked for one.

He knows he disappointed you, has been disappointing you because you can feel him layering you away, brick by brick by brick. One of his oldest and longest friends, barely visible now, and he’s going over it with caulk to make sure you can’t touch this fragile, weak, emaciated thing he calls a heart.

The instant you walk out of the bar, Nick’s arm across your tense shoulders, he all but rushes for the bar.

“Six tequila shots, please.”

You wake up where you went to sleep: curled up on your couch, your giant Florida Gators blanket wrapped around you like a mentally-supportive straight-jacket, with Golden Girls reruns on the TV. The empty bottle of 19 Crimes explains the sticky, dry feeling in your mouth and the thundering headache accompanying swollen eyes and cheeks. You’d rather get hit by a train than have to move out of this position, but Nick has always been punctual.

Which, you assume, extends to picking up his stuff from your apartment first thing in the morning, his final threat that ended your conversation last night.

The sooner, the better, you mother fucker.

You blindly grab around for your phone, knowing that it’s most likely shoved into the deepest cracks of your couch, hoping against hope Panera delivers on a Saturday morning. There’s a distinct possibility you might start swinging if Nick shows up before you get a baguette and a coffee into your system.

The things he said about Benny and Santi last night on the drive home. This break up was a long time coming, but fuck, if this is what he’d been sitting on about your friends, what the fuck did he actually think of you?

And the things he implied about Frankie – how Frankie was in love with you and you were willingly not seeing it – ridiculous.

You fight the rancid taste of hope that anything Nick implied about Frankie might even remotely be true when you close your fingers around the shape of your phone at the far end of the couch.

22%

Just enough to order then yeet this fucking thing into another room because there is no way in hell you are answering Nick’s calls.

But, as you scroll through your notifications, maybe you should have answered Frankie’s.

He had called sporadically, starting about two hours after you and Nick had left the dance hall, all the way until four in the morning.

One text at 1AM: com e hang out wit us.i mis s you u

You smile, despite the obviously drunken text. Frankie rarely texted, only if it was dire need – and apparently, you continuing to party with the boys at 1AM was very, very dire. Judging by the eight missed calls.

Eight missed calls, but only one voicemail.

Like you’re about to settle down for some good TikTok scrolling, you lean back into the pillows, rubbing your eyes to clear the hazy fog, and press play.

First, there’s noise. Lots of it. Country music and people laughing and singing. Clearly still at the dance hall. You wish for a minute it is a video instead because you’d pay hand over fist to see those guys falling all over each other.

But then comes Santi. Over the years, you’d picked up some Spanish here and there, mostly enough not to embarrass yourself if you ever went to Miami.

But whatever Santi is saying, you’re not entirely sure it is Spanish, or any human language.

“Comotuamiga, teruegoqueselodigas porfavornopuedo hacerestopormucho mástiempo. Estaríasmásfeliz y ellaestaríamásfeliz. Nomemiresasí, sabesqueloúnico quequiereesqu labeses y la beses y luegohagasotrascosas – ¡Estúpido! ¿La llamaste?”

There’s a shuffling, hushed voices, the music still far too loud to make anything out.

“Déjame en paz, dude.” Frankie. Frankie, very very very drunk. “I’m gonna – I’m gonna say – voy a decirle. Ella lo sabrá. She’ll get it. I know–,”

“Then say something now because you’re leaving a voicemail!”

“Ah, mierda – um, baby?”

In two words and two filler words, Frankie’s whole demeanor changes. You can almost picture him curled around the phone, his hand cradling the phone to his ear as he rests his head against a wall.

“Baby, listen – fuck, sorry, I’m starting all wrong. I shouldn’t even call you that – I shouldn’t call you ‘baby’ because you’re not mine. You’re not my baby or anyone else’s because you’re so fucking independent and I love that about you but I wish you were. Mine, I mean. Not a baby.”

You don’t even remember sitting up, but your feet are on the ground. You’ve dropped the phone onto the table in front of you, staring at it as if it’s been dripping poison into your ear. Your heart is pounding.

There’s silence from Frankie for a second, the music still loud, but it’s dampened. You can hear Frankie breathing, swallow, and start again.

“You looked so fuckin’ good tonight. You look good every night but fuck, baby, that dress. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Even for a second . . . he doesn’t tell you that you look so fucking good enough, you know? You should hear it all the time. I wanna tell you – tell you all the time – he didn’t say it once. Not once and that’s a fucking crime. He makes you drink white wine when I know you fucking hate it – I know you, baby. I know you more than I know myself because you’re all I fucking think about. You’re in here, all the time, all up in my chest, my throat, my gut – and you can have it. You can have it. You can have all of me, if you just . . .”

His voice breaks and your fingers clench around the edge of the cushion.

“If you just . . . look, I know this is so fucking outta line and I wanna say it to your face and I’m gonna but . . . when that fuckin’ moron forgets how good he has it, I’m gonna be there. Gonna be right there. Because –,”

And then like someone shoved a speaker right up against Frankie’s phone, as clear as day, you hear Benny yell:

“IF HE AIN’T HOLDING YOU TIGHT, IF HE AIN’T TREATIN’ YOU RIGHT, I’MA BE THE FIRST ONE CALLIN’ HIM CRAAAZY–,”

“Benny, fuck off!”

And then the call drops, along with it your stomach. In fact, it slides out of your body, slouches off the couch and melts into the floor.

Oh, Frankie, do you even mean a word of it?

The hangover rubbing your nerves raw, tears spring into your eyes, the silence and fear and terrible hope tightening like a band around your head and infinitely increasing the pressure in your temples. You want to cry but your eyes already feel too puffy.

You’re stuck, frozen by every single possible outcome or single next step spinning out like chaotic webbing you can easily catch yourself on.

This was a mistake, it had to be. He didn’t mean to call your phone. He had accidentally called you when he meant to call another girl . . . also with a boyfriend named Nick. Frankie, sweet Frankie, who you’ve all but outright begged to take an interest in you – said it with your eyes hundreds of times – Frankie couldn’t actually have feelings for you.

Not like you had for him. Not like the ones you’ve slowly plucked out of your ribs over the years because god, even just looking at him seared a scar across your heart.

Fuck. Fuck!

You snatch up your phone, wiping your teary eyes and frantically hoping he might have said a name or anything – he couldn’t possibly have meant you – when three loud bangs on your front door sends your phone into the air and your heart into your throat.

The way he calls your name is frantic, verging on hysterical. In a daze, you glance at the clock. 9:04. Frankie’s had about four hours of sleep, if any at all.

“Please, open the door! We gotta talk – there’s something – there’s something on your phone you shouldn’t hear – please, baby, open up –,”

You stare at the phone on your floor.

Don’t they always say you can’t tell the moments that irrevocably change your life until after they’re gone?

Not this time.

You open the door and either way, everything changes.

“C’mon, please, let me explain.” His voice has quieted, no longer shaking, softer as though wounded. “Just five minutes and I’m gone. I swear. We can forget the whole thing –,”

You open the door to a hungover Frankie Morales, still in the same outfit you saw him last in, but his eyes are rimmed with black circles, his patchy beard even more patchy as if he had rubbed the bristle clean off. He reeks of beer, peanuts, and cigarette smoke. His shirt is loose, wrinkled, his belt isn’t even on all the way, and he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“What if I don’t want to forget it, Frankie?”

You see the realization strike him through the eyes, the throat, the chest, his gut, his brown eyes swimming with shame and horror. He leans over as if kicked and presses a hand against your doorway. His thumb rubs the corner and he swallows.

“So you listened to it already?”

“Yeah, I did.” He closes his eyes briefly, hanging his head, every apology in every language he knows sitting right behind his teeth. “But did you hear what I said?”

He frowns at you through those thick eyebrows. “What?”

“When I opened the door, did you hear what I said?”

“You said –,” that beautiful bottom lip parts from its sensual top and Frankie blinks at you. The oily blackness of shame has evaporated from his eyes, but that stormy fear rages on.

You inhale, breath getting caught on every knot in your spine, and step back.

“We need to talk.”

He glances once over his shoulder, as if taking in the hallway to your apartment for the last time, and he steps inside. Immediately his height and broadness fill out every empty space in your tiny living room and you’re launched back into the memory of when the boys came over for Christmas and there was hardly enough room for anyone, but somehow you all made it work and after four rounds of DDR, everyone was so tired and drunk, you passed out pillows and blankets and you spent your first adult Christmas at what could have been mistaken for a thirteen year old’s slumber party. It was one of the happiest times of your life.

His thick fingers clench and unclench when Frankie spies your phone on the floor, like a bomb waiting to go off.

Your brain struggles to default to hostess mode because you can’t think of anything to say.

Do you want coffee?

Do you want some cereal?

Do you want to–

“Tell me what happened last night.” You surprise yourself, Frankie, and your whirring brain by cutting right to it. As with the first question when you opened the door to him, there’s something inside of you that has taken on wings, spread them wide, and threatens to soar out of your body. Frankie’s here, he’s here, and he said he wants you –

He called you baby.

You breathe in, trying to scrape up some courage from the bottom of your lungs, wishing in the back of your mind under everything else that you’d chosen literally anything else to go to bed in than your Tweedie Bird shirt from Six Flags.

“I don’t understand, Frankie. Please help me understand.”

With a monumental sigh, he rubs his wide hand across his face and up into his hair, his other hand lifting his cap up off his head so his fingers can dig into his curls. It’s only then that you realize Benny’s cowboy hat he wore last night is gone and his tried and true Standard Oil ball cap is back. Meaning he must have gone home at some point. When did he realize (or remember) that he’d left you that voicemail?

“I’m gonna get my ass kicked,” he murmurs, eyes darting like a fox to your bedroom door. “Maybe that’s exactly what I deserve.”

“He’s not here.” This great thing arcs between you, the emptiness a presence and clarity all at the same time.

“What do you mean? Where is he?”

“We broke up.”

“When? Why?”

“Last night, after we left the bar. We got into an argument. He doesn’t like the way . . .”

Frankie – physically, mentally, emotionally, fundamentally – overwhelms you. He’s across the room in an instant, closer than you think he’s ever been before. But maybe this is the first and only time you’ve ever allowed yourself to enjoy it. Revel in his closeness and let this caged feeling in your chest break free. You touch his chest with the flat of your palm, the size of it, the breadth of him, staggering. You literally feel weak at the knees.

“He doesn’t like the way what?” His voice luxuriates in his throat – warm, deep. He sounds like what you imagine a hot spring feels like against your skin.

“He didn’t like the way I looked at you.” Your fingers make circles where they did into his shirt. His hands have found their way, after all this time, to your waist. “The way I always look at you, Frankie.”

His breath, subsequent to the ghost of his lips, across your forehead is so gentle it makes you close your eyes, to block out one sense to encourage another.

You feel him swallow even though he’s a foot away from you.

“Why –,” he stops, and starts again, just like on the phone call, “why do you look at me . . . when you have him?”

“Oh, Frankie.” His grip on your waist tightens as if you’re about to disappear forever. “I took him because I can’t have you.”

You blame the tears on the hangover, the headache, and the way he takes your chin between his thumb and knuckle.

Grateful.

He’s looking at you, eyes soft, mouth curved into a disbelieving smile, with gratitude.

“He’s the furthest thing from you because I tried to get you out of my system – I did – I promise. I can’t lose our friendship, Frankie, but it’s killing me . . . not having you. Nick said it was obvious the way I felt about you and that was a problem for our relationship, so he tried to make me choose between you and him and every time, without a doubt, I’ll always choose–,”

This is the right time, he supposes.

Hand over your cheek, he holds you still in silence to press his mouth to yours. The final word of your sentence dies on his tongue, muffled by a soft groan of surprise. Your breath is terrible, your skin is oily and damp, he knows he stinks like the bottom of a wet bar, but he can’t find himself to care. Your mouth opens to take him and the hand on your cheek sinks to your neck as you both move past the initial shock of I’m finally getting to do this and you’re not pulling away and into an actual, proper, deep kiss that sends sparks into his toes. Your tongue marks the bottom of his mouth, your arms going around his neck like you want more – you need more – and Frankie pulls back.

Not only because he’s slightly dizzy but because he a) won’t fuck you for the first time on your living room floor and b) absolutely will not do it hungover.

“Breakfast. Do you like . . . uhm, breakfast?” He can’t quite focus on a single spot on your face, eyes half-lidded and gaze blurred.

You giggle, letting his beard tickle your nose as you sneak your face into his neck. He sways a bit with you, his arms around your back, and you don’t think he’s even realizing what he’s doing.

“Yes, Frankie. I like breakfast. I eat it almost every day, in fact.”

He grunts, neck suddenly flushed, embarrassed. “Sorry, I mean –,”

“I know what you mean, baby.” You lean back and run your fingers through the thatch of curls at the back of his neck. Both of you are so grimy but you can’t care. “I’d love breakfast.”

Frankie smiles his Frankie smile and the thing in your chest is illuminated in gold.

“How do you feel about conchas?”

Translations:

Como tu amiga, te ruego que se lo digas. Por favor, no puedo hacer esto por mucho más tiempo. Estarías más feliz y ella estaría más feliz. No me mires así, sabes que lo único que quiere es que la beses y la beses y luego hagas otras cosas. = As your friend, I beg you to tell her. Please, I can't do this for much longer. You would be happier and she would be happier. Don't look at me like that, you know all she wants is for you to kiss her and kiss her and then do other things.

¡Estúpido! ¿La llamaste? = Idiot! Did you call her?

Déjame en paz. Voy a decirle. Ella lo sabrá. = Leave me alone. I am going to tell her. She will know.

#SpaceSistersSecretValentine #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #frankie morales x you #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier fanfiction #francisco morales #pedro pascal characters

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chaiisms · 4 months ago

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BALDURS GATE 3 PARTY BANTER PROMPTS LIST.

all of the following prompts are taken from party banter between the companions in larian studios' baldurs gate 3 (2023). there should be no spoilers! also, a disproportionate amount of these are from astarion and karlach. i'm not sorry.

I am enjoying our walks together, aren't you, [ name ]?

You'll be as depraved as the rest of us in no time.

Friend of yours?

Were you always so sneaky?

If there's hope for me there's hope for anyone.

How are we not there yet? My feet are killing me.

This is what I get for trying to strike up conversation.

We're not going to have trouble, are we?

If we continue this way, we may get too close for comfort.

Don't get too comfortable. We shouldn't overstay our welcome in such a place.

Do you have pet names for each other yet?

[ name ]! Was that a joke?

You know what - that is not the easiest of questions for me to answer.

Given your own nature, are you really the one to judge?

You can read?!

I'm surprised - I expected you to turn your back once you got what you wanted.

I wouldn't know a flirtation if you whacked me alongside the head with it.

Why stay somewhere safe and comfortable when we could be in mortal peril?

Can't say I love what they've done with the place.

I'm learning to enjoy the taste of chaos. Count me in.

At least you didn't tell me to 'be myself'.

You have so much to learn. Repeat after me: honey muffin, sweetie pie, sugarplum.

Nice to be in a crowd of normal people for once.

So [ name ], how is your sad, hopeless pining going?

You seemed a million miles away just then.

I fear I've been rather hasty to judge you, [ name ].

Ready to enter the belly of the beast?

Step one of starting a conversation: think before you speak.

I hear your relationship has taken on a new aspect recently…

All right, just keep it down. We're conspicuous enough without your hyena call.

Not one for roughing it, I see.

Why not have a little fun?

You're right, of course. Forgive me.

My money's on you, [ name ].

The echoes - listen! They're coming from three directions!

Want me to carry you?

Feeling at home?

Treat them right, or you'll have me to answer to.

Oh, darling, would you?

No doubt they found me too intimidating.

A girl could get used to this.

Now I don't know what to believe.

Well - yes, it was a joke.

I know that, too. It just wasn't funny.

And here I thought I rubbed you the wrong way.

Man, it's good to be home. First round on who?

Oh, I wouldn't actually leave. After all, where would you be without me?

You've quite the knack for finding the bright side of things, haven't you?

Well what would impress you, then?

Let's just stop this conversation right here, shall we?

Must've been an awful day for the people who lived here

You've clearly thought this through a great deal. I'm impressed and appalled in equal measure.

Sure, but think of the stories you'll be able to tell.

I never was scared of the shadows.

I know you're not really as heartless as all that.

I judged you wrongly. I'm sorry.

Are you charging for this sage advice, or is sticking your nose into my business just a hobby?

Pragmatism, thy name is [ name ].

That's ironic, coming from you.

We're either very clever or very lucky.

You do not need luck to survive, [ name ]. Not when you have me.

That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky.

Stop gawking at the decor. This place is dangerous.

I can't tell if you're joking.

So, what's it like caring for someone other than yourself, [ name ]?

You think I'm beautiful?

I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

Yet another thing we have in common. We're two peas in a pod.

Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?

Use your words.

You gonna catch me if I eat a brick?

[ name ], I've heard you talking in your sleep.

Let's never speak of this again.

You can take a day off once in a while, [ name ]

Hey! Something bit me.

Cheer up. It might be all downhill from here.

I love a nice secret hideaway, don't you?

Think the bar is open?

#roleplay meme #roleplay prompts #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #rp prompts #chaiisms #revisms #baldurs gate 3 rp #bg3 rp

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threepandas · 1 month ago

Text

Bad End: No Good Turn

I rushed to catch up, as I saw the party leaving. Advisor Leukippos was a hopelessly busy man after all. Seeming to drift, with elegant unhurried steps, from appointment to appointment at a somehow impossible speed. It was near impossible to actually catch him NOT in the middle of something. And believe me, I'd been TRYING!

"Advisor! Respected One! Please wait!" I did not so much... shout (as that would be RUDE. One must NEVER be RUDE around the Yanderians. They take GREAT exception. I've looked them up. Have even started taking classes on the subject.) as sorta? Pitched my voice to carry? Kinda the verbal equivalent of that awkward half jog, not run, people do.

My Yanderian pronunciation is god awful. Probably butchering the words, since I can't, you know, actually HEAR any of the nuanced under or over tones. The slight inflections. Yanderian is a language of SONG. Poetry. Composing some of the most beautiful audible art in the known universe. Some of the pieces I've heard? Are like whale song made of starlight. Birdsong made of thunder.

And that's the RECORDINGS! Which are said to miss SO MUCH of the in person nuances, due to technological limitations!

I, being a human, literally don't have the philosophy to even speak the language properly. Never will.

Not the voice box, not the HEARING, and certainly not the lung capacity. But I wanted to at least try, you know? If nothing else, maybe learn the language. There WERE after all, auditory aids for Yanderians with ear injuries. And! I theoretically? Could contact the company? To see if they would be willing to design a set of nuance readers for a human sized head! Adjusted for human hearing and visual ranges!

To be honest? I just was waiting to be able to send my message in Yanderian first. To prove that it wouldn't be a waste of time. Nuance readers were a time consuming project after all! Had to be customized to the life form wearing them.

Leukippos and his entourage had stopped, turned. Some fully, some only half way, to glance in bemused and startled confusion at the (no doubt strange) little creature trying to hacksaw her way through a sentence in their language. None the less, they DID stop for me, for which I was grateful. Their people were fuckin TALL, man. Long legs. Holy SHIT long legs. G-gimme a second! Gotta...! Breathe...!

I could practically feel their amusement from behind the assorted fans. Eyes curving up to match hidden grins.

"No drink to spill upon me, little one? How shall I recognize you now?" Comes teasing song speech from the man I've been trying, for DAYS, to catch outside of any one of his many responsibilities. I think? That particular rumbling quality? Means "playfully said, not insulting you?"

His body language certainly suggests it.

The laugh that forces its way out of my body? Is the sort that you make, while contemplating throwing yourself into the fucking SEA or a bottomless pit, after dumping your breakfast on like... a world leader.

Because I Basically DID.

Which? Ha ha... oh god, kill me. They wear FUCKING WHITE. The higher the rank? The MORE WHITE! (It's the color of Divinity and Honor! Which DOESNT FUCKING HELP! Oh GOD, does this mean what I did was SACRILEGIOUS TOO?!) Nothing but pale, easily and irreversibly stain-able colors, as far as the eye can see! And I accidentally? Dumped my shitty break room "whatever has caffeine and is still in stock" on him!

FIVE TIMES.

I've literally GIVEN UP open air caffeinated drinks because of this! They are the devil! Evil! Trying to ruin both my sanity AND my life! I don't CARE if canned coffee is more expensive! At least I can't DUMP IT ON A DIGNITARY.

The worst part? The ABSOLUTE WORST? Was how understanding and calm Leukippos was, while I lost my shit. It wasn't even MY outfit. He was the one covered in probably still burning coffee! As I hyperventilated and blubbered apologies and cried at him. Hair a mess! Sleep deprived as FUCK because my boss is an asshole. Well... WAS an asshole.

He came over to yell at me.

Did not go well for him. What with that being Rude™ and me having already spilled the beans that the whole incident was CAUSED by me being overworked. Sleep deprivation slows reaction times, you know?

But then... but THEN! It? Kept?? HAPPENING!!!

Turn a corner? Bump! Right down his front. Leaving a lift? Bump! Splash! There goes my cup! Oh but what about a SAFETY cup? I, like FOOL, naively think! Ha ha...

I nearly concuss him! Somehow! Right over the edge of some railing! Slams into the ground at his feet. Nearly hitting him from THREE STORIES UP, right on the head! Pretty sure the sound I made? Was just as painful to HEAR as it was to rip out of my own throat in panic.

No More Cups! Cups are BAD. This? Anti-cup having household.

We'll drink from fucking SPOONS if we have too! Bowls!

NO CUPS!

And every? Single?? Time??? Leukippos not only stops, in the middle of his unspeakably busy schedule, to calm down and reassure this random ass low ranking alien, who's dumped potentially toxic or dangerous unknown alien foodstuffs, just ALL over his incredibly expensive clothes? He's KIND about it! Polite! Makes light hearted little jokes and says not to worry!

It would be one thing, if he was an asshole about it? But!? He's so politely understanding instead? You just end up standing there. Staring in HORROR. At the slowly spreading stains, on that beautiful, delicate, lovely embroidered white fabric. Clothes that are HAND CRAFTED. Take months if not YEARS to make!!! And you just? Feel your soul... die inside.

Kill me. Fucking END me. I deserve it.

Oh my god.... What Have I Done?

But, hey! If he wants to turn my Horrifying Drink Based Trauma Crimes into a cute friendship meet cute? I'm so unbelievably down for that. Literally ANYTHING so I stop feeling like I'm constantly setting this man's ceremonial robes on fire in front of him, then having him ask if I'M okay or need anything.

Speaking of which? Excitedly I reach into my messages bag, asking if he remembers the over robe he lent me. Another victim to our coffee attacks, the over robe was of a style that traditionally hung open, so it only slightly got hit. His main robe suffering the worst of it. Most importantly, though? The over robe is the main decorative one! Heavy on the subtle off white on white embroidery.

It creates a kind of magical looking effect as the light hits it, it's hard to explain.

But! I got coffee'd too, right? Right down my front! So what does he do? Leukippos slides off his over robe and puts it on me. So I won't be walking around in state that would get me socially embarrassed. Cause a scandal. Still not sure if it's a Yanderian or a "their region of the galaxy" thing.

However, that? Left me with a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL and quickly staining white over robe. Not Today, Satan! So I looked up how to save it. Rushed it to a professional cleaners. They kept it from getting worse but couldn't help me, due to the unique fibers the robe was made off, but knew who COULD and sent me on my way.

I ended up in a breathing mask in little Kkbrixxtttishky. And I know, okay? It's mostly oxygen in that dome. Yeah, it IS, but there are enough fatally toxic trace elements in the atmosphere that unless you have a REALLY good filter mask? It's just safer to go full breathing mask. It's not fucking "paranoid" or "racist" or whatever garbage they'll tell you.

Half those fuckers saying that? Wouldn't even TRAVEL there if their LIVES depended on it! For ALL sorts of VERY reasonable excuses, I'm SURE. Bastards. One breathing mask and an uncomfortable decontamination shower between domes is all it takes! It's barely a few minutes delay between domes. Then you're in!

And? The whole area is beautiful. Everyone is super nice, deeply kind (especially when you get lost... like... A LOT). And oh my god? Do you know how badly I wish I could eat the food without, you know, dying? (God those little pie thingies looked so fucking GOOD...)

Anyway! Long and short of it? The Kkbrixxtttishky cleaner knew how to clean the robe! Even stored it in an air tight container so it could be decontaminated for my safe handling. They? Were so sympathetic? Shared my absolute horror at the situation. We're and ARE an absolute gem. Swear to God I plan to recommend them to anyone who can breathe that grade of atmosphere.

It was worth every unit.

Pulling out a clean, neatly folded robe to return? Feels like a triumph.

"The robe of which I gave you, clean once more." He says, recognizing it on sight. The smile behind his fan seems to grow, from what charmed expression I can see of his face, as he steps closer. "Such care, in trusted hands, this robe has found. Little one, you have gone to great lengths. No easy thing, the cleansing of such cloth. And to return it? None would think you less, should you have kept a gift..."

The songspeech has a distinctly warm tone to it, more then the already fond tone that had been there before. Heck yeah~ Knew it! I KNEW I did the right thing! And besides, it WAS the right thing. I tell him as much. He didn't really GIVE me his robe, he leant me it to help me save face.

The Galactic Senate is unspeakably vast. He was running the risk of never seeing it again but did it ANYWAY. Just so I wouldn't be seen walking around covered in a mess. I was just sorry I couldn't fix the OTHER robes my clumsiness had ruined.

"Virtuous little one~" Leukippos says sings, the nuanced tones, which I could only barely hear, suggesting his words were meant to be both teasing and praise. He driftes closer. His other hand elegantly raising to join the first. Both gripping his fan in an... almost coy sort of way? Ah, I'm probably reading that one wrong. Still learning, after all...

"Won't you join me? A walk with good company, is a pleasant one indeed. I have not had chance to speech casually with you before. We would have sent you correspondence; In accordance with tradition and regard, however..."

Leukippos trailed off. Politely not saying the obvious. Which was that it was fuckin impossible to find me in the G.S. directory, since I was effectively a Nobody, and you'd have to know Going IN which Embassy I worked for. Even then, it'd be rough as hell, dragging me name out of that thing. I was the afterthought of an afterthought, that the forgettable once might of had.

But hey, it pays the bills.

I grin. Of course, I'd love to join him. If I'm not getting in the way! The robe is handed off to one of the smiling members of the entourage. Tucked away somewhere. And I am swallowed into the center of the group. Holy SHIT, they are tall. Like? I knew that. On average? Yanderians were about a foot and a half taller then humans... but STILL? I think these guys might be tall for Yanderians? I feel dainty. Wild.

Leukippos helps with my pronunciation, as we walk. Recommends a few new up and coming artists who's works sound fascinating. Distracted by it all, I don't notice our path meandering away from what I know is his next appointment, and towards his office. At least, I don't until we're alone.

His fan lower gently from his face, revealing handsome features.

I startle, don't know where to look. Uuuuuuuh?! No, wait, what!? No. See, I REMEMBER my basics of Yanderian etiquette block, from the sociology lessons I'm taking. He's not allowed to DO that! He can't DO THAT! Illegal! Naked! Why is he FACE NAKED!? That's like taking your SHIRT OFF! Fine around close friends and family. But JUST around them! ONLY them.

Going 0 to 150 REAL FAST, my guy!

Sputtering, I spin around. I saw NOTHING. Sexy lil fangs WHOMS'T? Ha ha! Jawline whaaaat? No, no! I'm actually BLIND. As of just a bit ago! Terrible, really. Should probably see a doctor! Now actually! Yeah. Now sounds good. I'm just gonna-!!

Softly, elegantly, like a dancer's pose, an arm in billowing white reaches over my should to delicately press against the door. It's the old fashioned kind. Swinging, not slide, made of wood. Must of cost more then I make in a year. The hand presses one finger at a time, a precise little sequence of tap tap tap.

Each finger accompanied by the softest sound of sharp nail tips.

I am suddenly hyperaware. H..How did he move that-?

The friendly atmosphere, the comfort, seems to have been sucked out of the room as thoroughly as an open airlock straight to the void. I am alone with a man I do not... now that I think about it... actually know. I FELT like I knew him. We keep meeting. I've been learning about his people. But do I know HIM? Personally? The nature of HIS character?

I... I do not.

And he is a very, VERY powerful man.

My eyes are locked on the hand, gently holding the door shut. I haven't tried my strength against his. Yet. But the numbers are in my head. The odds. Cold sweat prickles and beads along my skin, my breathe shallow, as I stand utterly frozen. It's a beautifully manicured hand, I note. Strong wrist, there a hint of true muscle, under all those robes.

He smells of trees and musk, spices and flowers not native to earth. The sleeve flowing over my shoulder is dangerously soft. His existence a pillar of heat, right behind me, not touching... but close enough. He seems perfectly content to wait me out. My mind is static.

"We fall in love quite easily, did you know? Oh little one..." His words are sighed confession, sung like falling leaves. Another hand comes up, on the other side of me. "My people greatest folly. Our weakness, our despair. Oh little one, we love too much. It frightens people. How quickly and deeply we fall..."

Why was he telling me that? I... I know the most obvious reason why he MIGHT be. B-but surely not! Ha ha. No way. C-can't be! So Why Is He TELLING ME THAT?!

"Courtship requires planning of course. Research. 'Meet-Cutes' I believe they are titled? Did you enjoy them? Were they proper? I'm to take you on outings next, yes? Flowers and material goods. To prove I can provide and know you well, and ah~"

There was mouth pressed to the nape of my neck, breathing deep against my skin. I could feel the almost lazy hunter's grin, splitting those lips into a smirk. Sharp teeth and hot breathe, dangerously close and already lusting to leave behind marks.

"And I DO know you so well. I have made certain of that, my little one. Dearest little one. Jewel of my heart, soon to be keeper of my name. I will court you in your ways, then I will court you in mine. Our wedding will be beautiful."

My heart was racing. I had to get out of here. Go and never, EVER come back. Oh god, at this distance? There was no WAY he couldn't hear everything. I had to lie! Do something! Anything! Just get out of this room. Back to Earth's embassy!

I... I couldn't move. Afraid. I was afraid.

He's so big. So much stronger then me. I have to get out.

"You shall such peace and love on Yanderia, darling. The other partners will rejoice for a new friend and you will be welcomed. Isn't that lovely? There is so much we do not show outsiders. But you, little one?"

"You will have the rest of your life to learn it ALL~"

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joelsgoldrush · 1 year ago

Text

swore i heard you whisper that you preferred us like that

joel miller x f!reader / 5,8k words

summary: you ask joel –the quiet, distant joel– to teach you how to ride a horse. they say the eyes are the window to the soul, and it must be true, because when he really sees you, it´s like he finally understands what you feel for him.

warnings: smut 18+ let’s pretend joel never left jackson, porn with plot, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, joel is 56), grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation, pet names, unprotected p in v (don't try this at home ok), dirty talk, soft!dom joel (sort of???), a bit of angst/feelings, joel gets all babygirl around reader, ellie appears for like a minute, mediocre attempt at recreating joel's southern accent (sorry in advance)

a/n: hello??? well this is my first fic ever so bear with me, i'm still new to all this. also english isn't my first language so i'm afraid there may be mistakes (mostly when it comes to collocations bc i hate them and they confuse me), buuuut i'm learning obviously and if you find anything that should be corrected PLEASE TELL ME thank you :) i'd appreciate if you told whether you liked this story (idk what to call it tbh) but if you don't it's more than fine! anyways thank you so much for reading if you come across this fic, i hope you like it! i've spent a week writing it bc finals season is killing me <///3

here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)

"Oh, my drunken southern star / How you tried to hide in darkness / Slipped from orbit / Now you’re dangerously close / Come out, come out from all your hiding out / We’ll dig in our heels, salute the battlefields / Where our broken hearts were born."

What is it that he has?

You used to ask yourself that question every night as you went to bed. On some occasions, you couldn't manage to come up with an exact answer. There were too many reasons that disclosed why a man like him lingered on your mind, even in those moments that were supposed to be for you and only you. Sleeping more than three hours a day was definitely something you needed tremendously, but still, the not-so-rational voice inside your head kept on bringing his name up without fail, disturbing your rest.

Joel Miller. Was it possible to feel like this? Like you knew somebody without having exchanged more than five words with them? Sure, there wasn't a single person in Jackson who wasn't aware of his existence. From whispered rumors in the streets to stories that intended to give his reserved personality an explanation, Joel became a real talking-point among those in the commune. Years ago, when the world was still just a floating ball in space, he would’ve frightened you, being the kind of person your parents used to warn you about as you started to grow older.

He walked a certain way, as if he were holding the suffering of many lives in his hands. Always on guard, prepared to fight those who defied him. Hidden knives in his pockets, a gun between his fingers, the trigger too tempting to be pulled at any time given. His hair was a mixture of brown and gray, and you swore that the latter was only becoming more prominent as days went by.

Suddenly, your pillow felt too uncomfortable, your hands fisting the fabric of your t-shirt while you kicked the blanket resting on top of your bare feet. A sigh escaped your lips, the taste of something you couldn't even distinguish on your tongue, your unsteady breath being the only sound to be heard in that noiseless night.

You were having a hard time figuring out how you felt about Joel (if there was anything to feel in the first place, since he barely remembered your face and there you were, fantasizing about him instead of sleeping.) Maybe you liked how he presented himself, how bossy and persistent he looked the times you caught him patrolling around the zone. Or perhaps it was his character what charmed you in the first place, and the fact that, deep down, a different side from him remained completely unseen.

He was handsome, too. Tall, broad shoulders, aquiline nose. His arms looked majestic in every single piece of clothing he wore, his tanned skin shiny enough to reflect the very same sun. And his legs… you were sure they were muscular like the rest of his body, because of all the physical effort he did. You had heard that he worked as a contractor before the pandemic, which made a lot of sense. Once or twice you had paid attention to his hands and–

Then, a familiar feeling sinked in. Warm began spreading through your belly, your thighs involuntary clenching together. “Fuck,” you muttered in a low tone, keeping your hands glued to your sides. Another motive not to think about Joel: he made you feel… things. Certain things that you hadn't felt for anyone in a very long time. You preferred to think that it was probably due to the fact that you were touch-starved, and not because you found yourself deeply attracted to him. Never had you ever been a sexually active person, so why now? Why did the mere image of Joel in your mind turn you on?

He’s strong. I’m alone. I feel the need to find someone who’s willing to protect me. That’s it. No other reason.

Your internal monologue was lacking in arguments, but it was definitely something you could work with. As if on cue, you found it hard to keep your eyes open, your limbs not feeling as if they were yours anymore. Next thing you knew, you were asleep.

That night, you dreamt with Joel.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

In a small cabin, you taught children how to paint and draw. Maria believed it to be helpful for their psychological development or something like that, and you had agreed to do it. A good way to spend your free time– that’s what it was. Plus, you liked children; some would even choose to include you in their drawings, and that small gesture just warmed your heart.

There, you met Ellie, a teenager whose basic vocabulary consisted mostly of profanities.

And boy, you loved Ellie.

It was hard not to, actually. She was like a breath of fresh air, with her jokes and instant charm. You two became attached in a short time, and she reminded you of a younger version of you, just a lot braver. Although in this world it brought her benefits, you sometimes wished she wouldn’t have gone through all that shit. Those eyes, which squinted as she laughed if you tickled her sides, were the cemetery of many buried memories. You wondered how she managed to put a smile on her face despite her past and the horrible things she had seen, hoping it was genuine and not a mask.

“Look!” her voice brought you back to reality. Blinking in her direction, you realized the amount of paint you had dropped onto the floor, a red stain already forming on the carpet. “Are you okay? You seem off.”

“I’m fine! Just a bit sleepy today, that's all,” you got closer to where she was lying down, her fingers moving the brush you had gifted her in different directions. Squatting a bit, you placed a strand of hair that didn’t make it into her ponytail behind her ear. “So, what are you painting?”

She smiled warmly, and her teeth catched her lower lip momentarily. “It’s not finished, okay? Don’t freak out. I know you’re a perfectionist.”

“I’m not…” you tried to explain yourself, but ended up choosing to be defeated. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, may I see it?”

The canvas was in your hands a few moments later. Ellie spoke beside you, her words mixing together in a sign of embarrassment. “It’s for Joel. Figured I could do something nice for him, you know? I don’t– I think I need to start over. His eyes look kind of strange, don’t they? They’re so close he looks like a cyclops.”

“Don’t say that, kiddo. This is… it’s beautiful,” your index finger traced the lines framing his jaw, the shades of his skin perfectly achieved. You held the painting even tighter, afraid of breaking it for a second. He wasn’t frowning like he normally did; Ellie had painted him smiling, and the crinkles by his eyes matched his age. Surely you must have spent more time than necessary staring at it, ‘cause then Ellie continued talking.

“Well, you know what they say: The student has become the teacher.”

You handed the canvas to her, a smirk taking place on your face. “Yeah, I guess I’ll stop teaching you if that’s the case.”

An hour or so later, someone knocked on the door. As both of your hands were occupied (a more formal way to say that they were dirty with paint), you screamed “Come in!”, and Ellie covered her painting with an old, muddy curtain you used to clean the tables in which the children worked. You were about to ask her why she had reacted in that way, until you turned around and saw him.

Joel was there, as every other Wednesday. In your cabin, standing right in front of you. And you didn’t even look presentable. His hair looked messy, a couple of locks stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Hi,” he said shortly, meeting your gaze and attempting to shake your hand, but you avoided contact.

Showing him your hands, you held your palms in the air as an indication of the still fresh paint on your skin. “Sorry. If I were to accept the gesture, I’d leave you a stain.”

He retrieved a bit, adjusting his glove. “It’s okay. Safety first.”

That was supposed to be a joke, you noticed tardily. The silence in the room persisted until Ellie appeared from behind your back, already putting her coat on.

“You were supposed to pick me up in half an hour, asshole.”

His mouth snapped shut for an instant. “I missed you too. How was the class?”

Ellie lifted her shoulder in a half shrug, looking in your direction and proceeding to jerk her thumb toward Joel. She didn’t want him to see the painting. “Fine as usual.”

“Can I see what you’re–”

“No fucking way!” she accentuated the word fucking, drawing him closer to the door.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not done.”

“But–”

“No more questions, Joel. Let’s go! Say bye!” Ellie handled him like a baby, which made you giggle.

Though you saw Joel raising his eyebrows, so you stopped laughing.

Soon, they left and the cabin returned to its familiar quietness. A sigh erupted from your chest, and you allowed yourself to fall on top of a chair.

At least you could say you had actually talked to Joel for once.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

It didn’t surprise you that you wanted to see him again.

Not in the “you-turn-me-on” way, but in the “you-seem-interesting-and-i-need-to-find-out-why” one.

He had something. Something so magnetic and indecipherable that kept pulling you towards him. Something that made you look for his presence in every crew, and not sensing what it was only made your wishes to dissect him grow bigger. There was a tiny probability that he was an idiot with a pretty face. Who knew? You definitely didn’t, and that needed to change. You deserved to know if pining over that man was worth it or not.

That chain of thoughts led you to look for him the next day, almost trembling with eagerness as you asked him the most stupid and unexpected question you could have imagined.

“Would you teach me how to ride a horse?”

He looked at you as if you were out of your mind, opening his mouth a few times and then closing it before he actually replied to you. “You’re tellin' me you don’t know how to ride a horse?”

“Tried it a few times, but failed and now I really want to learn to do it properly,” you swore his eyes were trying to decipher if you were saying the truth or not. “Ellie told me that you could probably make some time to teach me?”

“So Ellie's in charge of my schedule, I suppose?” you froze on the spot, and he must have noticed it because then his expression dulled. “Sorry, sweetheart. It was a joke. I've been told I'm not the best humorist.”

Sweetheart. You could’ve died a happy girl.

“Look, why don’t we meet up tomorrow after lunch? I'm sure it won’t take us much time. Not a difficult task, y’know?” he stroked his beard, apparently thinking you understood what he was talking about.

“Sure. Thank you, Joel. My name’s–“

He didn’t let you finish. “I do know your name,” and before leaving, he repeated: “I’ll be here tomorrow. You know where to find me.”

To say that you slept without interruptions that night was an understatement. Each hour seemed to become longer the more you glimpsed your watch. Your heart drummed inside your chest violently, and you feared that someone else would be able to hear it if they got close enough to you.

After having lunch in the same spot as every other mundane day, your legs took you to the stable. You took a shaky breath, expecting him to appear out of thin air, but fifteen minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Joel. Pressing your forehead against the wooden door, you wrapped your arms around yourself. “What was I even thinking?”

“Hey.”

You looked to your side and– there he was, already getting inside the stable and inviting you to follow him. Joel petted one of the horses, clicking his tongue. His fingers caressed the animal’s back, and when he shot a glance at you, he didn’t ignore your disturbed expression.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of horses.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” you laughed awkwardly, eyeing the horse, which stared at you with those big and strange eyes. You raised your hand to mimic Joel, but that just made the animal move further away from you. “I guess it’s mutual. We don’t like each other.”

Joel smirked, guiding you outside. “It’s a damn horse. I don’t think you can tell whether he likes you or not. You gotta change that attitude of yours,” he murmured as he got on top of the horse, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Treat him well and he’ll be nice.”

At first, Joel taught you the basics: how to position yourself for balance, get your legs in the right position, hold the reins properly. A little bit of help coming from him was needed for you to mount the horse. He got down on one knee, patting it as if it were a mounting block. “Come on. Step on it.”

No need to ask me twice, you thought as you did what you were told, and once you were grabbing on those reins for dear life, you observed him with curious eyes. “Now what?”

“Now…” he pressed his hand into one of the horse’s sides, and afterwards, the horse began to fucking trot and you cried out, a high-pitched shriek slipping from your mouth. Joel laughed maliciously, almost hypnotized by the scene. “Now is when you learn how to ride a horse!”

“This isn't funny!” you screamed, the horse still very much entertained with the way you were jerking on top of him. “Stop!”

You couldn't believe how he kept… cracking up. Joel touched his stomach, shaking with laughter. “You’re a natural, can’t you see it? I’m havin' the time of my life here.”

“What I can see is that you’re an idiot! Cut the cackle and help me!”

But he didn’t move a single muscle. Instead, he remained still, that smug look never abandoning his features.

The bastard. “You’re gonna make me beg? In this situation?”

Crossing his arms while teasingly grinning at you, he added: “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Joel Miller, will you help me? Pretty please?” your hair was getting in the way, and you could taste it as you insisted. “Is that enough for you?”

It was, actually. He helped you get down from the horse, his thick fingers digging into the mushy skin of your waist. It shouldn’t have felt that good, but it did. You were supposed to be angry at him for setting you up and still, by touching you for a microsecond, he had transformed you into something malleable.

Sadly, that feeling didn’t last much longer. “Didn’t know you were a man of manners. Should’ve told me beforehand.”

“Didn't know you could scream like that. I hope you didn’t freak anyone out.”

The two of you continued to practice until nightfall. A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man. Everytime you tried to quit, he stopped you, making it impossible for you to rest. You stared at him, rubbing the back of your sore neck with a grimace. “I’m tired. Can we go back?”

“One more time.”

“Joel–”

“Trot a couple of meters just one more time, and that’s it for today. Can you do that for me?”

You tried not to pay too much attention to his choice of words, although it was basically non-viable. He looked sinful, and you longed to shut him up with a bruising kiss. Again, a hopeless option. Your hands itched to touch him, to feel his stubble, rough and coarse under your thumbs. How could you stay focused when the man you had been daydreaming with for the last couple of months was bossing you around?

Despite your inability to clear your head of any of those thoughts, you managed to accomplish what he had asked you to do. “Well done,” he offered you his hand to dismount the horse and you accepted it, sighing as you stretched out your arms. “We should take him back to the stable,” Joel suggested, giving you the impression of being pleased as you told him you were coming with him.

Inside the stable, he relocated the horse into one of the many stalls. Unbelievably, the place didn’t smell like absolute shit, which was what you were expecting from a barn. “Thank you for the lesson,” you told Joel once he was done with the horse.

“Anytime,” he scratched his jaw, the dim light making his dark eyes look, if possible, even darker. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No. You were right,” your heart thrummed with every word that he blurted. His presence was addictive. You were never the one to have any bad habits, but deep down, you recognized that he easily could develop one. “I thought you were less talkative.”

“So did I,” for an instant, he pressed his lips together, forming a tight line, as if he had said something he shouldn’t have in the first place. “I think I didn’t ask you this before: but why now? I mean, why did you wait so much time to learn how to ride a horse? Everyone in Jackson seems to know how.”

You cleared your throat, his piercing eyes peering at your movements. “I guess I thought it wasn't necessary back then, before all this. It's one of those things that you don't even consider until it becomes inevitable. I used to believe I had a lot of time left when I was younger,” you had never talked about this with anyone else. There was something so intimate about this conversation, how Joel stood seemingly tongue-tied in front of you, as if he were taking notes of what you were confessing to him. “I remember being a kid and not wanting to use my toys sometimes because I kept waiting for the right moment. But then…”

“You realize there’s no such thing as the right moment,” he finished the sentence for you, and you bowed your head. “Life can end at any moment, especially in a world like ours. That’s why you always gotta do what you wish to. We never know what’ll happen tomorrow.”

“Live for today, hope for tomorrow? That’s your creed?” you tried to mock him, the tension in the stable far from evident, but he didn’t move.

“It’s the way I try to live my own life. I don’t like being left with the desire to do somethin’ I could’ve done earlier. Too old for that.”

Maybe you were gradually losing it. Perhaps just a little. It couldn’t be a coincidence, right? Had he noticed how you acted around him? Were you that obvious?

“So, you would advise me to just…”

“Do whatever you feel right, sweetheart.”

That raspy sweetheart made you give in.

His eyes. His penetrating, gleaming eyes scrutinized your face at the same time you closed the distance between your bodies. From there, you were able to see every freckle, every small detail that you hadn’t previously acknowledged. He parted his lips, as if to speak, but no words other than your name came out. One of your hands made its way up to his cheek, cupping it, feeling the warmth his skin radiated. His head immediately leaned into your touch, like a moth into a flame.

You kissed him, unable to keep waiting. It took him what felt like ages to kiss you back, his fingers tangling in your hair. He absorbed your whimpers, pressing your back against the nearest wall. Maddening– it was the perfect word to describe how being kissed by Joel felt like. When you thought he was going to draw away from you, he just held you tighter until your lungs implored for some air. Your knees had never felt this weak, and you found yourself grabbing onto his shoulders, already feeling the places where his stubble had left its trace in flames.

“Joel…” you mumbled against his lips, detaching your mouth from his. Your erratic breaths seemed to sync together like a melody, and you tugged at the collar of his jacket.

He knew, could see it on your features. “Wanna go to yours?”

Joel took you home. The moment you set foot in the cabin, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the handle as he contemplated you from a distance. You took your coat off first, starting to unzip your pants. There was silence long enough to hear crickets in, the moon up in the sky being the only bystander of your meeting. His eyes roamed the newly exposed skin of your legs and you observed him gulp.

“Did something happen?” you asked him, a flush crepting up your face. Taking a step forward, one of his hands came to rest on top of yours.

“No, it’s just that– Are you sure you want this?”

Crinkling your nose, you uttered: “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m just too old for you,” he warned you, running a knuckle down your cheek. “You should be with guys your age, y’know? Not with an old man like me.”

“I want you,” reassuring him, you got rid of your t-shirt, and the fact he was still dressed up from neck to toes lit some kind of fire inside you. His calloused fingers fiddled with the strap of your bra until it slipped off your shoulder. “This is what I want. Please, Joel.”

It turned out that Joel Miller certainly was a man of manners.

You couldn't help but moan as he grabbed you by the waist, dragging you to the couch by the window and straddling his lap, his hard-on finding its place beneath you, pulsing and in need of more. His tongue brushed yours ever so often, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his teeth latched onto the skin of your throat. Joel groaned, the sound, low and primal, having its desired effect on you, your hips involuntarily grinding against his in a delicious but tormenting rhythm that already had you on the verge of tears.

“Joel, please,” you managed to plead, not knowing precisely what you were asking for. His hands cupped your ass, imprinting his fingerprints on the soft flesh, forcing your hips to go harder and harder. The harsh fabric of his pants was definitely going to leave a mark on your cheeks, and thinking that helped you realize that you were the only one –almost– naked. You reached for the buttons of his denim shirt, your lips hovering over his. “Take your clothes off?”

He did the rest himself, throwing his jacket to the floor. When he got to his jeans, he cocked his head. “Why don’t we move this to the bedroom, if you’re so goddamn needy?” The few guys you had been with had never been very talkative during sex; there was even this one specific boy who had asked you to not make a sound while he fucked you.

But Joel wasn’t like them. It was just starting and you had already realized that he had a dirty mouth, an expectant look on his face every time he waited for your reaction to his words. “Now you’re quiet, huh? Thought you wanted me to fuck you, darlin',” one of his fingers pressed down on your clit, stimulating it through your underwear. He sighed, stopping his movements and pressing the damp pad of it against your lower lip, urging you to taste yourself. “You’re wet, baby. So fuckin’ wet. Have you been like this all day? Bet you would’ve let me take you right there in the forest.”

“Oh my God,” you whined next to his ear, your whole body trembling with desire. “Take me to bed,” you begged him, and next thing you knew, he was grabbing you as if you weighed nothing and heading towards your room.

Not knowing how, you kept your hands to yourself until he placed you on top of the bed. Joel shoved his jeans down and you didn’t think twice– you stroked his length, the fabric of his boxers only making the slow drag of your hand more satisfying. His long fingers circled your throat, and you moaned as you kept eliciting exquisite noises from him. “Let me take care of you,” his dilated pupils carved holes in your being, his grip doing nothing to cease the ache between your legs. “Please, baby. I need to make you feel good. Been thinkin’ about this for so long.”

“What?” you slowed down your pace, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “You wanted me?”

“Why do you think I began to pick Ellie up from your classes, huh? Because I’m a good, generous man?” Joel parted your knees, getting closer to where you required him the most. “I’m sorry to ruin this, but I’m far from good. Just wanted to see you and your pretty face. Didn’t know if we were on the same page until you came lookin' for me, askin' me to teach you how to ride a damn horse,” you hadn’t noticed your bra was missing till he cupped one of your breasts, flicking your nipple between his fingers. “I’m sure there were many other people you could’ve asked to teach you, but you chose me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t want anybody else,” your lips chased his, a drop of sweat already rolling down your temple. “I didn’t– didn’t know you noticed me.”

“How could I not? If you could only look at yourself like I’m doing right now… You’re a sight, sweetheart, all spread out for me,” removing your panties, he kissed the skin where your inner thighs met, his tongue darting out to draw imaginary figures on your flesh. His mouth was just inches away from your cunt, and you had to tell him.

“Joel?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never– nobody has ever done that for me.”

He seemed to understand what you were referring to. It made you tense a bit, despite the fact that you were completely naked in front of him, basically begging him to tear you apart. Still, the realization that you weren't as expert as him hit you out of nowhere. Yeah, it was all fun and games, kissing and touching probably the hottest man you had seen in your almost three decades of life. But said man was a lot older than you, and he had lived his best years in the real world, not this fucked up version you grew up in. You were sure he had been with many different women, which wasn’t a problem– you two were nothing.

“Nobody has ever tasted ya’? That’s what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” you nodded quickly, shoving a strand of his graying hair back away from his eyes. Joel chuckled languidly, squeezing your hips. “Do you want me to? It’s okay if you don’t. We can try somethin’ else.”

“Please,” you’d have time to embarrass yourself later, thinking about the amount of times you had repeated that word. But certain moments were to be lived only once, and though you hoped it wasn't the case, you had to take the chance. “I want you to.”

Four words. It took Joel four words to disappear between your legs, licking a hot stripe up your folds. You nibbled on your bottom lip, a loud moan filling the void of your dorm. He drew sweet patterns in your cunt, discovering a part of you that no one else ever had, and you couldn’t help but to grind against his face as he dipped the tip of his tongue into your entrance. Breathing wasn’t a necessity anymore. You felt as if all the air in the world was being punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter the more Joel spent his precious time keeping you entertained.

At some point, he focused his attention on your clit, circling it over and over again, making you shudder. Suddenly, the pad of his middle finger tested the waters, and he slowly slid it into your cunt, earning a strangled whine from you. Burying your hands in his hair, your glossy eyes looked for him for a second. You shouldn’t have done that, because as you took in the sight of Joel with his own eyes closed, browns knitted, your nostrils flared, and you wondered if it was even possible to want somebody that much.

“Joel, wait, I’m– fuck,” your jaw went slack and you scrunched up your face, two of his thick fingers nudging that spot that made you see stars. “I’m close.”

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart. Don’t know why you say it in such a dry tone,” his mouth curved into a smile, his chin and stubble shining with your slick.

Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “I don’t want to come yet.”

“But you will.”

A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man.

“Joel–“

“I’ll make you come with my mouth, and then with my cock,” dizziness was starting to blur your vision, your eyelashes fluttering with every hard thrust of his fingers. You glanced up to the ceiling, tears filling your eyes. “Think you can do that for me, be my good girl and come twice?”

You bobbed your head. It was official: he was going to make you come.

Drawing in a long breath, you could feel the unbearable pressure in your core. His name sounded like a prayer on your lips, chanting it in the same way some people expressed their devotion to a certain God. You had your own personal deity, whose tongue accomplished to push you to the limit, licking every drop of your release as if it were a special kind of forbidden elixir.

Your shoulders sagged and you relaxed under him. Joel kissed you, an open mouthed and filthy kiss crowning that moment as you panted. Through the cotton fabric of his boxers, you felt his hard-on poking your thigh. Shoving his underwear down, you took him in your hand, hot and just big, stroking him for real this time. You twisted your wrist at the tip, and he slumped forward, almost crushing you with his entire body weight, his breath dampening your neck. “Wanna fuck you, baby,” he croaked, his hips chasing your touch.

Out of all the scenarios you had ever imagined, none of them included being split open by Joel. You had a very vivid imagination, but no amount of creativity would’ve prepared you for what his cock would feel like inside of you. He bottomed out, his arms shaking where they rested on each side of your head. Joel’s breath quickened as he pulled out, just letting the tip, and then thrusting into you again.

“Fuck,” you didn’t recognize your own voice. It was even hard to decipher if you were still alive or dead from how magnificent he felt.

“So good, sweetheart. You’re so good, such a good girl,” he groaned, fucking deeper into you. His cock pulsed inside you, your cunt squeezing him. “Can’t believe how– how tight you are. You’re gonna make me lose my f–fucking mind.”

It was just too much. You hadn’t even recovered from your last orgasm before Joel started pounding into you like his life depended on it, the obscene sound of skin slapping skin ringing out in the room.

“You gonna come, huh? Gonna make a mess?” you could sense he was also close, his pace faltering as seconds went by, words slurring together. He pressed his forehead against yours, clenching his fists and taking in a sharp breath. “Fuck. I’m not gonna last much longer, baby.”

Come inside, you wished to tell him, to feel his seed dripping out of your greedy hole, painting your walls. But you weren't on the pill; it was also the first time you were sleeping with Joel, and you didn’t know how he would take the… suggestion. “Close,” you yelped instead, tears shimmering in your eyes as Joel’s body hovered over you like the most perfect eclipse.

His thrusts became more frenzied, if possible. “That’s it, darlin’. Come for me,” your gaze fixated upon him, his eyes flickering with hunger. “Wanna see you when you soak my cock.”

Your body went limp, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. Soreness took place in your throat as you moaned his name through the aftershocks, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids. Going rigid, you let go of Joel’s shoulders. He pulled out, mumbling something you didn’t quite catch. You fisted his cock, trying to give him the release he so yearned for. Joel kissed you, messy teeth and saliva taking part of it. Heavy on your hand, his dick twitched as you squeezed the base, roped of his warm cum splattering your belly. The scene reminded you of a painting; he was the talented painter, and you his blank canvas, waiting to be signed with his name.

It was the turn of silence now. None of you said anything for a while, until Joel used his boxers to clean up his cum from your stomach, smiling apologetically at you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” your fingers delicately traced the contours of his chest as he reclined, enveloping you in the embrace of his strong arms. “Will you stay?”

Please say yes.

“Only if you want me to.”

Moral of the story: learning how to ride a horse can actually be nice if your teacher happens to be Joel Miller.

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