#no i have not felt this way about any other character before. LOL sorry i’m insane | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itgetsdark-x · 2 years ago

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I Wanna See You Beggin’

Summary: Joel Miller is your dad’s best friend, you knew it was wrong, you knew it would only cause trouble but you couldn’t help the way you ached for the man. (Title is from I Hate Myself for Loving You — Joan Jett & The Blackhearts) 6.9k words. I’m sorry.

Characters: dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+ only, no minors as it’s just a big ol’ load of smut… praise kink (use of ‘good girl’ a lot), p in v sex, unprotected (be sensible and wrap before u tap, pls), age gap (reader is mid twenties, Joel would be in his late 40s), use of the word ‘daddy’, oral (f receiving), no outbreak in this au.

A/N: hi guys, I haven’t written smut for years and Joel Miller has me frothing at the mouth and giggling like a little girl with a crush especially dbf!joel… Anyway, if this is enjoyed by people, I have an idea of how I could make this into a series. Please leave me nice comments or catch me crying in a corner somewhere lol

“Dad,” you huffed into the receiver as you held your phone to your ear with your shoulder. “I love you and all but I could think of better ways to spend my Friday night rather than listening to you and Joel argue over which 80’s band is the best.” You chuckled fondly as you carried on typing away at the laptop in front of you whilst you spoke into your phone.

“Sweetheart, I love spending time with you and Joel, you love him as well! I’ll pay for dinner?” He spoke softly and you smiled as your could hear your dad’s smile down the phone.

“Fine, what time do you want me round, old man?” You teased fondly. “I finish work at 5 today.”

“6:30pm work okay for you? Don’t forget to bring some beer.” Your dad asked with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes before responding to him, “Fine, I’ll bring the beers but as soon as you and the other old man start arguing, I’m out!” You laughed.

“Deal,” your dad agreed. “I’ll see you later my sweet pea, love you!” He hummed and hung up before you could respond.

“Old men and technology.” You muttered to yourself before taking your phone and opening your messaging app.

You quickly tapped on the screen and chewed on your lip as you did so.

‘You need a lift to dad’s later? x’ you hit send and placed your phone down on your desk, returning your attention back to your work laptop. You were in the midst of replying to an email when your phone buzzed on your desk beside you.

‘Sure thing, peach. See you around 6? :) Xx’

You couldn’t help the way your lips upturned into a smile, and as soon as you caught the reaction you chewed on your bottom lip. You hated the way the older male had such a visceral effect on you, you had known Joel Miller for around ten years now. You moved to the city and your father worked with him, the two of them soon became best buddies which in turn, meant he spent a lot of time around you and your house. When you first met Joel you were a mere sixteen-year old kid, from day one you felt an instant attraction to him, you knew it was wrong but you couldn’t deny it. In the beginning it felt like a harmless, childish crush, one that you were bound to grow out of but things only seemed to get worse the older you got, that attraction burned deep in your veins and any time you spent time with the older man you couldn’t help the way your cheeks burned and your pussy throbbed; there had been many nights where you had dropped him home after visiting your dad and rushed home just so you could relieve your tension. Your fingers buried deep in yourself, moaning Joel’s name as you came around them.

You felt shameful, dirty and down-right embarrassed about those moments but it didn’t stop you from doing it again, and again.. and again. You knew Joel would never cross that line, never, he was too much of a gentleman and had way too much respect for your old man but that didn’t stop the feelings you had for him.

Your mind was reeling, so much so you barely noticed the way your thighs pressed themselves together searching for some relief to your aching core, you stood from your desk in your room and stretched before you looked at the time on your desktop, it read 4pm. You sighed and went to your kitchen to grab a snack and make yourself a strong coffee, you had an hour left of work before you had to shower and get ready before picking Joel up.

The last hour of your work felt excruciatingly slow, your mind was busy with thoughts of your evening ahead of you; it was no different to your usual Friday get-together with your dad and his friend but today you couldn’t erase the filthy thoughts of Joel from your mind. You quickly showered, hoping the hot water would wash your mind and body clean, you ignored the burning to urge to relieve some tension and give your body the orgasm and relief it so badly needed.

After showering you, you applied a light layer of make-up, like usual before pulling your hair up in a half-up and half-down style. You looked into your wardrobe and reached for a plain black tank top, orange plaid over shirt and black tennis skirt; you paired the outfit with your favourite pair of black converse. You put your accessories on; earrings, rings and gave your body a spritz of your favourite perfume. After grabbing the 12-pack of beer from the fridge, you quickly grabbed your phone and keys off the counter and left your apartment to go and pick up Joel.

You were running a tad late but that wasn’t out of the ordinary, and Joel was always expecting it. You pulled up outside his home, gave a beep of your horn and took a shaky breath in as you saw him lock up and approach your car. Your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as he climbed into your car and suddenly your senses were attacked with the older male. The small space filled with his heady scent, his aftershave musky, spicy and just Joel. He was wearing dark grey jeans, not too tight but tight enough to appreciate his thick thighs and your eyes couldn’t help but notice his bulge as he walked. Joel was wearing a dark khaki over shirt and a black T-shirt under that went perfectly with his jeans, and of course, he was wearing his trusty dealer boots.

“Hey peach,” he spoke and leant over to press a kiss to the side of your head. It was something he had done for years, only now, you craved to feel his lips elsewhere.

“Hey old man.” You grinned and started your car once more.

The journey to your father’s house was short, only about twenty minutes; it was annoying that he didn’t live in the same neighbourhood as it always meant you or, on occasion, Joel had to drive. It was a comfortable journey as the two of you spoke about your respective day’s and week’s.

“So you’re not hanging out with that guy again tonight, oh, what was his name!?” Joel questioned, searching his brain for the name. “Derek? No, no, he definitely seemed like a George!” He laughed, his hands resting comfortably on his thigh, you couldn’t help the way your eyes glanced down at his large digits.

“His name was Ben, and you know that, Joel. You’re just being a dick.” You shook your head quickly with a laugh. “And nope, dad had other ideas for me… clearly babysitting duties. I would much prefer to be out with Ben but here we are…” You said softly with a roll of your eyes, it was a lie, of course. You would happily spend every waking moment with Joel, if he let you, exploring his body, sharing your thoughts with one another.

His hand tensed on his thigh, it was brief and barely noticeable but you did notice it; that was… weird? You shook off the feeling and parked up outside your dad’s apartment block.

“Anyway, I love babysitting you old men. It’s cute. Great practice for when I actually want kids.” You laughed, turning off the ignition and climbing out of your car. “And, I’ve warned dad, slightest hint of bickering between you two and I am out. Gone. Done. You can walk home.” As you spoke, you bent over to reach into the back seat of your car to grab the beers, one leg slightly lifted as your body struggled slightly to pull them closer; you hadn’t given the motion much thought, especially in your outfit.

Joel moved until he was stood behind you, he cleared his throat and looked away sheepishly after catching a glimpse of your black, lace panties. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh hon, you might want me to grab those? Gonna give someone a heart attack if they see you like that.” His voice was soft as he spoke, still not making eye contact with you.

“Shit. Sorry, Joel.” You cursed, your cheeks flushed red as you watched the dark haired man grab the beers and you smoothed out your skirt.

The rest of the evening played out like usual; your dad and Joel had a few beers each, you allowed yourself to have one as you were driving and you all ate way too much Chinese take-out. It was getting late, you were laid out on your dad’s couch, your legs swung over your dad’s lap, Joel was sat in the lazy-boy across the room, his legs sprawled wide. This was always part of the routine, you would all catch up on your week’s complain about work, talk about sport’s games that had happened or were about to occur, it was familiar and safe.

“So get this, bud,” Joel spoke, his voice breaking the noise of whatever Depeche Mode record they had put on the player. “Y/N over here was saying she would have preferred to have hung out with that douche, Ben, we met last month. Can you believe that?” He looked over at you, smirking as he took a swig of his beer.

“Dick,” you mouthed over to him and let your head hang back onto the arm of the sofa.

Your dad opened his eyes and looked over at you. “Is that right, sweet pea? You don’t wanna hang out with your favourite ‘old men’?! I’m truly offended.” He laughed, closing his eyes again, feigning hurt.

“Joel is just bitter I have a better love life and sex life than him.” You shot back, immaturely sticking your tongue out at the other male.

“Gross! Dad in the room!” Your dad grimaced, watching his hands in front of his face. “You’re my little girl, I don’t wanna hear about you having sex.”

“Hey — that’s not even true, I have sex… plenty of it…” Joel huffed, trying to sound convincing as he lied through his teeth. In truth, Joel never really had an interest in the women he had met, sure he took a few women home from bar to sleep with them but after he lost his wife and child, Sarah, he never really had it in him to give dating a proper go.

“Sureeee you do,” you giggled, causing your dad to let out a loud laugh.

You all laid about a bit longer, listening to music and joking around before you sat up and stretched your back out, causing your tank top to rise, showing a small sliver of soft skin to show. There it was again, Joel’s hand tensed in place and it was almost as if his jaw clenched down. You were sure you were imagining these things, like usual so you pushed yourself off the sofa and smoothed your clothes out.

“Right, pop’s I better get old man Miller home before I pass out here. I’m shattered.” You yawned, reinforcing your previous sentence.

After saying your goodbyes you walked back to your parked car, the cool chill of the late-night air made your skin prick up with goosebumps and sent a small shiver down your spine.

Joel and you walked in silence, the silence remained as you started your car and cranked the heating up.

“Dick move, bringing up Ben to my dad by the way, Miller. Real dick move.” You spoke, your voice seeming loud in the confined and silent space, just the low thrum of your car’s air vents trying to clear the windows and fill the air with warmth.

“Ha, sorry, Peach. Couldn’t resist it. Was right there for me to tease you with.” He laughed lowly, bringing his hands up to blow some warmth into them. There it was again, that nickname, every time it rolled off his tongue it sent warmth straight to your core.

“My dad doesn’t need to know what I would rather be doing on a Friday night, or rather who I would rather be doing.” You huffed.

“I wouldn’t go around proclaiming that sorta thing, especially round your pops. I’m sure he wouldn’t wanna hear how corrupt his good girl truly is.” Joel hummed, his finger tapping on his thigh as you began driving.

‘Good girl’, it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly yet it sent sparks straight to your core, as you drove you shift in your seat and pressed your thighs together.

“I — I uh, I’m an adult, Joel. I’m a fully grown woman, incase you haven’t noticed. I have needs and wants.” You argued, trying to remain confident in your words.

“Needs… and wants, huh?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow at you. “Is that why I see you practically drooling every time you see me? Now would you say that’s a need or a want?” Joel asked, his voice low and sultry.

Your mouth dried up instantly, voice getting stuck in your throat as you tried to protest. “I — I do not.” You protested, your voice coming out as a mere squeak.

“Oh peach, I see the way you press your thighs together. So needy for me? Hmm.” He hummed, his hand reaching over to touch your bare thigh. “I’ve seen the way you shift in your seat when I spread my legs in the arm chair or when you catch a short glimpse of my bulge. I’ve seen it all, no need to hide it.” His fingers were barely touching you, ghost-like touches on your skin. It was a risky move, he knew that and he knew you could quite easily pull the car over, kick him out and tell your dad what he had done. It could ruin his only true, pure friendship if your dad found out. But Joel was also sure he had calculated this properly, he had seen you for the past couple years and your minuscule reactions only seemed to ramp up the older you had been getting.

Your breath hitched harshly in your throat as you tried to concentrate on the road ahead of you but your mind was swimming with Joel once again, his fingers lightly traced patterns on your inner thigh and all you could do was whimper pathetically under his touch.

“J-joel,” you whined. “Please don’t tease me, I’ll crash the fuckin’ car if you play like that.”

“Oh little girl, I’ve barely placed a hand on you and you’re already whimpering for me? Quite cute really.” He said, his voice seeming deeper than usual; he splayed his hand across the skin of your inner thigh and gripped it tightly.

You forced your eyes open as you continued to drive, you weren’t sure if you were doing the speed limits or what, all you could think about was the large hand that was so close, yet not nearly close enough to where you needed it the most. You could feel how wet you were already, you had been a mess all evening but now you could physically feel your arousal collecting in your lace panties.

“You reckon your ol’ man knows how needy you are for me? Your dad’s best friend. Oh peach, what a mess.” He continued, he had moved closer to you now, reaching over the centre console of your car, his breath fanning out over your neck.

“J-Joel, I’m serious. I’ll crash if you carry on like that. Not funny.” You whined, trying to press your legs together again but feeling resistance in the form of Joel’s hand.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Joel tutted. “What are you trying to do there, darlin’?” He laughed, letting his pinky drift closer to your clothed cunt just barely brushing the fabric.

You whined again, just a small noise from the back of your throat and pulled the car over, from what you could tell you were a few streets away from Joel’s house; the suburban area was dimly lit with few lights and no people walking around, especially not this late anyway. You pushed your car into park, turned off the lights and engine and looked at the older male for a moment, your lips wet and cheeks flushed.

“Joel…” you started. “Y-you don’t have to do this, I know I’m not your type and I’m sure you’re just trying to play a bit of a joke on me. We should get you home and forget about all of this…” Your breath was shaky, you hoped to every god out there that Joel would continue but you wanted him to know he didn’t have to humour your silly feelings.

“You don’t think I want this?” Joel asked, his face close to yours, hand still pressed teasingly to your thigh. “I’ve noticed recently, the way you react to me and tonight, w-when you were bent over. Took everything in me to not pull those little panties aside and bury myself deep in that little cunt right there in the middle of the street.” His voice sounded near animalistic as he finished that sentence and your cheeks burned a deep, cherry red as he finished speaking.

“I didn’t mean to do that, didn’t really think.” You mumbled, looking past him to stare out the window.

“Shh,” Joel hummed, he leant forward and placed a kiss to your lips with his hand still stroking soft patterns into your inner thigh.

You sighed contentedly into the kiss, finally experiencing what you had craved for years, your hand snaked up to hold Joel’s face as you deepened the kiss; hungry to taste more of the man. Joel tasted like smoke faintly, salty from the foods you had eaten and there was the distinct taste of hops from the beer he had drank. Your fingers intertwined into his greying hair and you gave it a testing tug; Joel groaned and allowed his tongue to swipe across your bottom lip. Eagerly, you opened your mouth and urged the kiss to be deepened, taking as much of him in as you could in that moment.

Joel saw this as his opportunity to advance his hand, he slipped his fingers under the hem of your skirt and let them stroke across the damp fabric of your panties. You whimpered into the kiss, your hips bucked forward searching for further contact. He couldn’t help but smile at how undone you were already. Joel teased his fingers across the waistband of the lace fabric of your panties, teasingly slow, just as you were about to pull away from the kiss and protest he allowed two fingers to slip into your wet folds and agonisingly slowly circle your swollen clit.

“Fuck,” he growled lowly. “So fuckin’ wet for me already, darlin’?”

You nodded, gripping at Joel’s forearm as he started to rhythmically circle and play with your clit. He was right, you were near sopping as he slipped through your folds.

“Wanted this for s-so long,” you whimpered. You couldn’t quite believe this was real, you were almost convinced you would wake up any moment, sprawled out on your bed with your fingers deep inside of yourself and not actually in your car, with Joel Miller’s fingers close to making you cum already.

“Yeah?” Joel asked, his fingers speeding up. “Wanted to feel my fingers on your wet pussy, making you feel good? Huh? How does it feel to have my fingers finally in you?” Joel spoke, his voice a low huff as his fingers worked quickly.

“So. Good.” You moaned, the noise low and breathy. “Feels so good. I’m going to cum. Please.”

Joel groaned, he still couldn’t believe this was happening to him. Since you started maturing over the past couple of years he had thought so many times about how much he would love to corrupt you; to have his fingers, mouth and cock making you fall apart at the seams. Just anything to make you feel good.

“That’s it, atta girl. Cum for me, good girl.” Joel whispered, his lips ghosting over your ear as he sunk a digit into you abruptly and let his palm bump up against your clit.

That was it, the white hot, searing heat in your stomach erupted and your eyes screwed themself shut so tight you saw white patterns dancing behind your eyelids. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip so hard the familiar metallic tang flooded your mouth, anything to stop you from alerting the neighbourhood with your screams. If that You that wasn’t just the best orgasm of your life, you would have been slightly embarrassed at quickly he had made you cum.

Joel barely moved his finger in you, just circled it slightly but his palm nudged your clit as he worked your through your orgasm and it made you whimper loudly, your body flinching with over sensitivity. He took the hint and removed his hand from your wrecked panties and brought it up to his mouth, sucking his digits to clean them from your juices.

“Taste so sweet, just like a peach.” He groaned, his fingers popping from his mouth, the noise startling you from your orgasmic comedown. There it was again, your nickname but now it just sounded sinful and you knew going forward, you wouldn’t be able to hear it without getting wet and embarrassed.

When you finally regained some composure, you looked at Joel; your lips were swollen and red and your cheeks had a light flush settled on them. He smiled, thinking you were truly the most perfect sight he had ever seen. Your hand reached over to his lap, you had a hunger and needed to curb the insatiable need for his cock. Your small hand palmed him through his jeans, he was rock hard and fuck, he was big. You swallowed, almost nervously at the thought of his large cock stretching your tight hole out. Of course you had slept with people, you weren’t a virgin but your previous boyfriend was nowhere near that big and he definitely couldn’t make you come that hard, even on his best days. You gently squeezed at his length, stroking him through the rough fabric.

“Not here, darlin’. How about we go back to mine so I can properly appreciate you?” He asked, and just as you opened your mouth to protest saying you wanted him right there and now he spoke once more. “I’ll drive, dunno if you can drive properly after that, little girl. I saw how hard you came on my fingers, now imagine how hard you could cum on my cock.”

Your whole body shuddered involuntarily, never in all your years of knowing Joel had you heard such filthy things from his mouth; he had always been the perfect Southern gentleman. You were soon pulled out of your thoughts by Joel opening your car door.

“Shuffle over.” He commanded.

You nodded dumbly and did as you were told. Joel swiftly started the car and continued the drive back to his, it barely took ten minutes but every minute felt like torture; your mouth watered at the thought of Joel filling your holes, using you how he pleased, your core ached with the need to be full of Joel again.

Once the car was parked, Joel hopped out and was once again opening your door for you, you exited the car and grimaced at the cool air hitting your skin. You felt Joel’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you into his home, a place you had been hundred’s of times before but this time you felt nervous.

He opened his front door for you and you walked in, just as you were about to turn and speak to the male he was holding your hips in his large hands and pressing your smaller frame against the wall. His lips were on yours and starting a bruising kiss, once again your hands found their way into his hair and you moaned softly. You wanted to be stuck like this forever, with his soft lips on yours and his rough facial hair scratching your skin slightly reminding you exactly who was kissing you.

“Please don’t tease, I just want you so badly Joel. I have for years, b-been thinking about your cock filling me up for years.” You whined, sounding like a petulant child.

“And I’ll be fillin’ you up real soon, sweet girl. But how about I make you feel good again, yeah? You think you can be good for me and cum again, I wanna truly taste how sweet you are, sugar.” He growled, his lips trailing rough kisses down your neck. God how he wished he could mark you up, head to toe, just so people would know you were all his.

Your knees buckled, and your body fell against Joel’s slightly, causing him to laugh breathily; no woman had ever reacted like that to him before, let alone just his words but then again, no woman was like you. He took you by the hand and led you up to his room, you couldn’t help but take in your surroundings, you had been in Joel’s room a couple times before but you had never noticed just how much it smelt like him.

“How about we get you nice and comfortable, let’s get those clothes off you. Can’t wait to see your body.” He started by pushing your plaid shirt off your shoulders, throwing it over to the side; the heavy fabric landed with a dull thud onto his wooden floor and with that he swiftly removed your tank top. Somewhere along the way you had both kicked your shoes off but your brain was too murky to fully register it.

Joel’s rough hands slid up your sides, he was drinking in every inch of your curves and soft skin; in the wake of his hands your skin was freckled with goosebumps.

“So beautiful,” he breathed, a dim light casting beautiful shadows over his face. You felt embarrassed as his eyes fully drank in your form. “May I?” He asked, voice soft and smooth like honey, his hands were at the clasp of your bra and you simply nodded. It seemed like a trivial thing to ask permission for considering less than thirty minutes ago you were cumming around his fingers.

He removed your bra, your perky breasts bounced ever so as the supportive fabric was gone. Your nipples hardened as the cool air hit them, pulling the sensitive skin tight. Joel could have devoured you whole, right there and then. His large, calloused hands came up to hold your breasts, his thumbs swiping over your nipples almost in a testing fashion. He did it again when it elicited a moan from your throat, he pinched the sensitive buds and your back arched towards him.

“Joel, I can’t take it. Please.” You whined, his touches were entirely too much yet not enough all at once. It was your own form of perfect torture.

The older male was loving this, watching your eager reactions as he toyed with your body, his cock was hard and leaking in his jeans and he couldn’t wait to be inside of you.

“Be patient, darlin’. We have all night.” He smirked, slowly sinking to his knees in front of you.

His rough hands begrudgingly left the peaks of your breasts and worked their way down to the zip of your tennis skirt, he unzipped the fabric causing it to fall to the floor. You took the cue and kicked it to side, out of the way. Joel’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties once more and slid them down your legs, you rested onto his shoulder and stepped out of them, just before you could kick them to the side, he was bunching them up and shoving them into his back pocket.

This man — he would be the death of you, you just knew it.

You were about to make a comment and protest but Joel was stood once again and gently pushing you back onto the bed behind you; you fell onto the plush mattress with ease, your thighs falling open without being asked to do so. You felt exposed, vulnerable but above all else, you felt needy.

“Good girl, without even being told to lie like that. Such a beautiful girl.” He remarked, pulling his shirt over his head and slipping his jeans from his thick thighs.

You rested up on your elbows to peer at Joel as he undressed and your throat tightened, all the air in the room seeming to have evaporated immediately. He was beautiful, all harsh lines to the outside world but in the glow of his bedroom now, he looked soft and warm. You were in deep, and you knew it meant deep trouble.

He palmed himself through his boxers just to stave off some of the throbbing and your eyes followed eagerly, the thick outline of his cock making your walls clench around nothing. Wordlessly Joel knelt at the end of the bed, latched his hands onto your thighs and pulled you closer so you could feel his hot breath fanning over your sopping folds. Your hips bucked into thin air, nothing there to help you and he laughed, it was quiet and breathy but he definitely laughed — fucker.

Joel trailed two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on them once again and without warning he plunged them into you roughly. You gasped, your back arched off the bed and your fists balled into the sheets either side of yourself. His fingers were so thick, so much thicker than any man you had been with before; you weren’t sure whether that was down to the age difference or just Joel’s build. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out rhythmically, building speed and curling them so they brushed that perfect, sensitive spot inside of you.

Your mouth was agape as you laid there, completely at his will, writhing under his relentless touch. Moan after moan, after moan spilled from your parted lips and just as you felt the tension tighten in your stomach Joel lapped his tongue of your clit. Your back arched and the filthiest moan escaped your mouth, you weren’t even sure how that noise had come from you but it had and it had Joel smirking as his tongue swiped through your folds again just to circle around your clit once more.

Your hand laced its way into Joel’s hair, your fingers gripping the strands with a deathly vice and he groaned into your pussy causing vibrations to ripple through you. You weren’t sure how you were still holding on but your stomach was twisting, tightening and bubbling as your orgasm approached once again.

“Mmm, good girl.” He praised as your walls clenched around his fingers as he continued to pump them into your wet heat. The room was filled with obscenely filthy noises; your moans echoed throughout the empty space as Joel slurped up your juices.

“Joel —“ you sobbed, your back arching impossibly high off the mattress below you. “C-can I cum? Please. Need it.” You asked pathetically.

Why were you asking permission?

Never before had you felt so submissive for a partner in bed, never once had you asked permission to cum, no, normally you would be chasing your high, just trying to grasp at a fraction of how good Joel was making you feel.

“That’s it baby, such a good girl for asking permission. Wanna make you feel as good as I can, peach.” He groaned in between pleasuring you. “Cum all over my face, wanna taste as much as I can.”

That was it, the coil in your stomach snapped abruptly and you were gushing onto Joel’s fingers, a pleasured scream tumbling from your lips. Never, not once had you squirted before, yet here you were, soaking the sheets beneath you and in turn, Joel’s beard and your own thighs. You would have felt ashamed if you didn’t feel such pure euphoria in the moment. Your back was twisted and contorted off the sheets as Joel worked you through it, making you squirt further.

He could have cum in his boxers, like a teenager as the first drops of your orgasm hit his face. He lapped up as much of you as he could, like a man who had been starved for years. And he had, he had been starved from allowing himself to have this moment with you and now he had you, he wanted to savour and devour you as much as you would allow him to.

“Joel,” you whimpered, your thighs trapping his head. “C-can’t do it anymore!” You sounded wrecked, your throat felt raw from how loudly you had been moaning.

Joel laughed, pushed your thighs apart and removed his fingers from you. You winced and your walls clenched around air, feeling so empty once again.

“Please, p-please can I have you now?” You asked, positioning yourself on your knees in front of Joel. You reached your hand to feel his hard cock through his boxers once again and this time, he didn’t stop you.

You abruptly pulled the checkered fabric from his waist and his boxers pooled at his feet; freeing his cock finally, it sprang up against his stomach and you all but moaned.

“You’re so…” you whispered, looking up at Joel through your lashes as your small hand wrapped around his thick length. The tip was dark, a bead of pre-cum glistened at the slit and all you wanted was to taste it, to taste Joel’s musk. “You’re so big, fuck.” You cursed, your tongue sticking out to kitten lick at his tip.

You wanted to sink your mouth down his length to fully take him in so your nose could bury into Joel’s thatch of dark hair but you resisted and gave him another lick, tongue flicking into his slit.

Joel groaned, a low and gruff noise from the back of his throat. “Fuck, darlin’, I gotta be in you. None of this.” He spoke lowly, his thumb coming down to swipe along your bottom lip and you quickly sucked it into his mouth.

“Please, daddy.” You whispered, the honorific slipping from your throat before you could process it. A look of horror washed over your features and you knelt up higher to look Joel in the eyes. “I — I, — sorry. I didn’t mean —“

Your fumbling words were cut off when Joel placed his big hand around your throat and brought you in for a kiss. You were trouble, you were sinful and he was damned. He had been called daddy a few times by younger women, they thought it was sexy; the way they would flutter their lashes at him at the bar, saunter over to him and whisper ‘hey daddy.’ Normally it made his skin crawl and caused his body to cringe but the way it almost innocently slipped from your lips, it was like a curse from the devil himself and it made Joel’s cock jump, nudging your stomach.

He squeezed his hand around your throat and you smiled? Trouble. Nothing but pure trouble.

“Not such a good girl, after all, huh? Been acting all innocent all these years.” He whispered, his thumbs squeezing near your pulse point, hard enough to make your head feel lighter and floaty but soft enough not to hurt you deliberately. “God, what would your old man say about this? See his little girl begging to cum, see you squirting on his best friend’s face. Smiling as I wrap a hand round your throat. Your trouble, darlin’. Nothin’ but damn trouble.” He whispered, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before peppering small nips to the flesh of your neck.

Your legs trembled as they held you up, it was wrong but his words went straight to your core and soaked you further, you didn’t think your arousal could get higher but here you were. He was right though; your dad would be horrified, would be downright mortified to know what his daughter was truly like and at the hands of his best friend? That would destroy your lives. All three of you. You pushed that bitter thought away as your head lulled back and you allowed Joel to grope at your chest, hungry to feel your body once more.

“Say it again,” he growled into your ear as he pushed your body back down onto the bed. “Call me it again as I fuck you real good. How ‘bout I show you what it’s like to have a real man fuck you, not some silly boy.” He said, his voice gruff whilst he stroked the tip of his cock through your folds.

“Daddy,” you whimpered, parting your legs further to allow Joel more room to enter you. “Daddy please fuck me.” You begged, sounding weak.

“Oh, of course, baby girl.” He cooed, pushing his cock into you roughly until he was bottomed out. “Fuck,” he cursed.

“S-so big, daddy.” You whimpered, your hands grasping at Joel’s biceps, just trying to hold onto something as you adjusted to the slight burn of him stretching you out. “Mmm, please move.” You moaned.

“Atta girl, taking daddy’s cock so good already.” Joel groaned and he swore that he saw heaven in that moment; your tight body below him, contorting to how he needed. He had already built up a punishing pace, hips drawing back to slam forward roughly. The room was filled with echoes of your skin slapping together, his deep pants and your wanton moans and weak, pleading whimpers.

“I’ve wanted this for s’long,” you sobbed, your eyes falling shut as the tension built further in your stomach once more. You knew from this point forward you would be wrecked for any other man, no one would be able to make you feel this good. Not even close. “T-touched myself so many times thinking about you fucking me.” You admitted, the words falling without thought. “Want you to cum in me, wanna be full of just you, Joel.” You moaned.

Joel was a goner, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this up for much longer, you were too tight, too wet and just too good for him to have any real stamina. Your admission didn’t help matters, either. The thought of you spread out on your own sheets, touching yourself to him?!

He gripped one of your hips tightly, hard enough to leave bruises on your delicate skin as he fucked into you harder with deep groans. “Can’t be saying that to me, peach. Gonna cum too quickly.” He hissed, his free hand snaking between you to trace circles around your clit.

“I c-can’t do it again,” you stuttered, your body burning from the inside and out. “Too much.” You breathed, your sharp nails clawing at any bare skin you could find. Just anything to anchor you down as Joel pulled another orgasm from you.

“I think you can. Hmm?” Joel spoke. “What you think? Wanna be a real good girl for daddy and give me one more?” His thumb sped up but his hips slowed to a sensual roll, his cock head bumping the electrified bundle of nerves deep in your walls. You clenched around him tightly and he moaned, louder than before. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. One more, come on now. Come on.” He groaned, working your clit faster.

You whined, the noise stuck in your throat as your back arched once more and you clenched around Joel before gushing around him with a moan of his name. “Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel, J—.” Your eyes had rolled back, any further and they would have disappeared into the back of your skull.

“Such a good girl, fuck. So tight. That’s it, squirt on my cock.” He groaned, removing his hand from your clit to hold down both your hips as he fucked into you with more fervour. He wasn’t going to last long, but he also knew you couldn’t take much more. You were cock drunk and spent. “Gonna fill you up so. fuckin’. good.” He huffed, accentuating each word with a thrust.

“Daddy,” you cried, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body went into overdrive.

That was it, that’s all it took. Joel looked down at you, your were a mess and all from him, tears fell onto your cheeks as he finished inside of you with a groan of your name. “Shhh, that’s it sweet girl. Such a good girl.” He cooed, his hand cupping your cheek as he emptied himself into you.

You moaned, feeling the hot liquid of his cum fill you up, your walls clenched weakly, just trying to milk him of every drop and you turned to kiss his hand. The room smelt of sex, the air was thick and hot and sleep called to you like a sweet song.

Joel pulled out of you with a hiss and you whimpered, your body felt like there were a hundred tiny pin pricks on your skin. You were overstimulated and completely spent but ultimately, you were so happy.

“Hmmm, m’sleepy.” You hummed contentedly.

“I know, sweet girl but can’t sleep here. The sheets are a mess. How about you have a rest in the spare room and I’ll go sleep on the couch?” He asked softly, brushing your sweat-dampened hair from your face.

“Sorry about the sheets,” You giggled, eyes heavy-lidded and barely open. “Although, was kinda your fault. You’re a dirty old man, too good at that.” You teased, still giggling.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to hell.” He huffed, his voice all too serious.

Joel scooped your naked body off his bed with a gruff noise and before you knew it, you were in another bed with the duvet wrapped around you. Joel had cleaned you up with a damp towel, dressed you in one of his shirts and wrapped you up into the sheets.

“Stay with me,” you whispered as Joel turned to walk out, assuming you had already passed out for the night. “P-please stay with me.” You cried, tears filling your eyes.

He smiled and obliged with no arguments. The mattress dipped beside you and he wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Of course I’ll stay, peach.” He whispered and pressed a kiss to your temple.

You hummed sleepily, your eyes already closed and you felt peaceful. It was the most peaceful you had felt in a long time. Joel was there, you finally felt content and safe in his arms. You knew trouble was brewing on the horizon but right there, in that moment, you couldn’t find it in you to actually care.

Everything felt like it was too much, of course your fantasy came true but what did this mean for your futures? You only assumed it would be messy and all too hard on you both.

You drifted off to sleep peacefully that night, the most peaceful you had been in far too long. Your senses screamed Joel and you felt safe. You knew trouble was brewing on the horizon but for now, you were content and happy.

——————————

#joel x reader #joel miller x reader #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #tlou series #age gap joel miller #minors do not interact

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burn-before-reading · 3 months ago

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Love in the Time of Socialism

joost klein x artist!reader

art, mush, and ramblings about life

warnings: depression (ish), burnout, reader character in some vague mental health funk

word count: 2k

a/n: slight prequel to blue is the colour of your eyes but can be read as stand alone. just same artist reader. vaguely romantic but just ramblings and getting feelings out haha. started this when I was in more of a bad mental state (lol) but im fine now so it got kinda tame by the end of it. still not proofreading anything

title from the song Love in the Time of Socialism by Yellow House

Rpf below the cut—

Normally Joost has to call you because its the only way you will actually look at your phone. Its more often that not you find yourself fixated on planning out your next project, and your friends have to force you back into reality. There was that one time no one had heard from you in over a week and thought you were dead, when you were just working. You hadn’t realized how many texts you missed and apologized for scaring your friends half to death. Especially Joost.

So now you leave your ringer on, and now they call.

Tonight, however, Joost calls and you aren’t in your studio. You are in your bed, where you have been for the entire day. and also most of yesterday. There isn’t a reason in your head specifically why this has happened. you MEANT to get up. Theres a list of chores and things to do just sitting on your desk, but you woke up late, so now nothing will get done. At some point it just became too stressful to even get up and look at it. You roll over and stare at the contact picture of him, smiling with some dumb fish eye lens he thought was funny. You debate not picking up at all.

But you can’t ignore him.

“Hi Joost.” your voice came through the phone more hoarse than intended when you answered, you don’t remember the last time you talked to someone. “Whats going on?”

“the others wanted to go out for drinks tonight, you hadn’t responded so I wanted to check you were joining us.” You could imagine him rocking back and forth on his heels in the middle of his living room while he talked, it was either that or pacing around.

“uhh..” Drinks at a bar was the last thing on your mind. In any other situation you would have loved to be around your friends, but right now you just needed to avoided as much as possible. “Not a good night, tonight. Sorry, I’ll have to join you guys next time.”

Joost felt like something was off, you sounded tired. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll be fine I just… shit brain day. bad brain thats all. It happens.” You did your best to summarize how you felt without actually admitting anything, you weren’t sure how to explain anything anyway.

“ Oh Im sorry, would it be good, if I came over? I can keep you company, if thats okay?”

“you don’t have to, I’ll be fine tomorrow. I want you to have fun. ” you insisted, but he pressed on.

“I don’t mind, the group would understand. Have you eaten today?”

“Like… a meal? yes, or well, no. I had a soda..” You glance at the half drunk soda from the night before, now flat. “and uhhh..”

“I’ll pick something up.” You could hear him on the other end gathering things together, keys, wallet, probably his ipad.

“.. thank you. I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”

Joost knocked on your door about an hour later. In that time you were able to get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to change and make yourself somewhat presentable in front of a guest, and to the kitchen to make coffee despite it being 8pm.

You opened it to see Joost with a sheepish smile as he extends his arms out for a hug. “Hi.”

“Hi Joost.” you take the step to hug him, feeling his body heat contrast with the cold nighttime. “I’m glad you’re here.” the two of you head inside to your living room where he empties his bag of take out to reveal a couple different thai dishes and egg rolls. It was hard to not admit you weren’t at least a little bit hungry.

The two of you ate in mostly silence, making small talk about different projects you two have going on, or the fact that the two of you were in between projects. He done with touring for the time being and in the process of working on a new album. You loosely avoiding talking about any current work plans but mentioned one or two paintings you finished for a private gallery commission last month.

“ Just some paintings of animals and nature-ish symbolism. Honestly my heart wasn’t really in that one, but it payed the rent so.” you shrug and shove noodles into your mouth.

“Well now you have the time to work on your own stuff, right?” he commented, leaning back into your couch and looking down at you sitting on the floor instead of any of your own furniture. “Draw whatever your heart desires.”

“I mean I guess.. Im just glad to be done with the oil paints for now. I swear i think I was gonna die in my studio from all the chemicals. I dunno, I finished that whole project last month, I haven’t really been very productive since then.” you trail off and Joost gets a concerned expression on his face.

He sinks down from his spot of the couch to join you in the floor. The fluffy rug brushing against his legs as he adjusts his new sitting position.

“Its okay to take a break, you know.”

“I know I know, I just get frustrated. I never seem to have my energy directed towards the right thing. Whenever I have all those big projects from other contractors, I can brainstorm and think of all these interesting ideas I wanna work on, but I can’t because then I would get behind on the art Im being paid to do.”

“mhm.” he nods, to indicate he’s following along.

“ And then whenever Im done with those projects, I just get… tired. and my focus is gone. and Everything just feels…” you gesture the last bit with your hands, scrambling your fingers, to imply your thoughts. You aren’t looking at him, but you can still see him nodding in your peripherals. Joost always seemed to understand your thinking and explanations to things, even if you thought they were messy.

“Do you want to try painting right now?” he asks. you just shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know what I would paint.”

“You can paint our dinner, or, or yourself, or your plants maybe?” he suggested and stands up. “Can I paint too?”

“Oh we’re actually doing this?” Not that you didn’t want to, but this self doubt had creeped into your mind again. That failing to produce something decent would prove that you’ve lost all your talent, your skill.

“yea we can have a little painting party!” he chimed, but he hesitated walking over to your studio to grab stuff, still giving you the space to reject his idea.

you looked away and started nervously tapping your fork against the table.

tap tap tap tap

“…sure. We can use my watercolors, Ive been wanting to use them more often anyway.”

the coffee table became a little more cluttered as you set up the paints for the two of you. Joost using an old set 24 pans and you using a newer set of watercolor tubes you were gifted last year and never opened. You watched as Joost immediately dipped his brush in water and started activating the blue paints, spreading it onto his paper in big random strokes.

“what are you painting?”

“not sure yet, maybe im painting you.” he looks up and smirks. you scrunch your nose up.

“why are you using so much blue. am I a smurf?” you joke and he just shrugs and points to your own paper.

“Just mess around, can’t be any worse than what im doing.”

tap tap tap tap tap tap

you fidget with your own brush for a few seconds lo get before grabbing a big mop brush and wetting your paper with clean water. Taking your smaller brush again, you pour out a small amount of yellow and mix it up with some more water. You hesitate for a moment longer before letting the brush lightly touch the surface, creating a burst of colour on the paper as the colour seeps onto the page. You make a few more random marks before switching to another warm colour and repeating the process, now watching the colours bleeds and mix into each other. You look at Joost paper and see that he is actually now trying to paint you, the blue fortunately was able to be mostly contained to the background.

“Do you ever think about what you would do if you weren’t a musician?” you ask.

“I dunno I think after this I could have a pretty successful art career.” he teases but sees in your face the question is more serious. “I don’t know. I started off with youtube, but if I wasn’t doing that… its hard to think about what my life would be like if I didn’t follow this path.”

“I always have this feeling deep down, that I made a wrong choice somewhere along the line. I was thinking about going to school for psychology, I also wanted to work with animals at one point, be a vet. I enjoy art, don’t get me wrong, but I just worry that in making it my job Ive just drained all the passion I had for it.”

You let the paper dry before staining the page with lines of dark burgundy, creating hands and a human heart. he hums as he listens, not adding anything, but simply letting you vent. beginning to piece together your mood from earlier. “I don’t have any jobs lined up right now, which is what Ive been waiting for, to work on my own stuff, yknow? I haven’t had the time ive wanted to make something for myself for a while. But now I just feel, I feel like ive been frozen.”

“things seem to be okay right now. I like what youve made. ” you look down and see the scribbles youve made with your paint. hands clasped over a broken heart. you shrug and smile softly, signing the bottom.

“Just a scribble, you can have it if you want.” You hand the paper over to him. “thank you for coming by, its… its nice being around you. Helps a bit.”

Joost takes the paper and studies it for a second. “I really like it, maybe I should come by more often.”

“If you bring the food we can have art nights whenever you want.” he holds up his paper. The blue bleeding into your skintone and hair since he didn’t wait for anything to properly dry. “I might stick to my ipad though, I don’t know why you like this paint.” he scrunches his nose at it. you laugh and it makes him smile.

You notice for the first time how bright his eyes look when he smiles, but you brush the thought away.

“Feeling a bit better?” he asks as he lingers by the door on his way out.

“a bit. like I said It was just a mood, I was gonna be fine tomorrow most likely… I still appreciate you coming over.”

“Don’t ever be afraid to call or text okay? Im always here to talk if you need. or just to listen.”

“definitely. Ive been meaning to uh, talk to someone about all this stuff anyway, you’re not a professional but ill keep it in mind.”

he grins and goes in for one last hug. you feel him slightly squeeze you and linger a little longer than usual before letting go. With one last glance he waves and head off. You see him pull out a cigarette for the walk back. It takes you a second to close the door. standing there watching him walk off until he turns a corner and disappears. Closing the door you sigh and go the clean up your living room.

You notice he left the portrait he drew of you. signed at the bottom with a smiley face next to his name.

It gets hung up in your studio above your desk.

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost fanfic #joost klein fanfic #joost klein x you #rpf #eurovision #artist!reader #vague mental state #mental health issues #whoops #mush #i hate endings #no beta we die like men

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monstas1ut · 2 years ago

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Characters w/ black! s/o who’s mad at them

LAW, ZORO, SASUKE, KAKUZU, ARMIN, EREN, ICHIGO, BYAKUYA

contains

__ +18 black coded reader, female reader, nsfw for most, sfw for some, only the Aot men are modern, usage of ‘slut’, Kakuzu uses his tendrils.

__ a/n : Can we talk about how I got so much love from my trafalgar law post? Thank you so much. This is just a small little small headcannon thing.. I needed to write something.. even if it’s shitty lol.

Trafalgar Law is the epitome of ‘get somebody else to do it’. This is only at first when he notices you’re slamming things, rolling your eyes, or sucking your teeth. The surgeon can barely give a damn when you’re acting like this. Most of the time, he knows it’s his fault why you’re acting this way. Law won’t give you any attention until you calm down though.

When you’re finally quiet and shriveled up in a corner with anger looming over you, that’s when he appears. He will be as calm as ever and this will piss you off even more, but alas, Law isn’t dealing with your bratty self anymore.

If this is a public dispute, Law will in fact use his devil fruit to ‘room’ you away from others. There’s just no way he’s going to argue or let you scream at him in public. His eyes would squint at you as if you’re dumb and he’ll grip your chin with his tattooed hand. This of course only gets you to shut up for a little while.

“You are picking at my nerves. Pulling the strings even, and if you do not stop your petty behavior… I will stop it myself.” His voice would be at a low tone, mixed with harsh intent. His eyes would be directly looking into yours. And if his demand did not frighten you in any way, he would then have to resort to getting closer while his thumb slips into your mouth.

Law had never been so sexual before you.. but he knows how much of a slut you are for him. He just knew you’d wrap those glossy lips around his thumb. Not only did it keep you quiet, but it turned him on.. and he’s sure you were just annoyed from him ignoring you… So, his other hand would slip away and down into your bottoms. The only thing he felt was the shameful wetness.

Maybe you were just horny and mad..

“I will not tend to your every little need if you keep acting like this everytime you want to be a little slut..” he says as his fingers slip inside you.

Roronoa Zoro didn’t even know you were mad. Mad at him? For what? The blonde cook was the one that had to flat out tell him that you were angry with him. That’s when Zoro becomes pissed about you even spilling your problems to Sanji. Then, the whole ship has to hear you two verbally brawl.

He’s a petty asshole alright. He’s hidden every bonnet and scarf you’ve ever worn, and to his disbelief, you had one stashed. He’s also the one to cross boundaries and purposefully watch your bonnet fall off your head at night.. and he will not pick it up. He’s just that petty.. But when he finds out why you’re mad, he may stop.

Zoro will end up doing things under your nose. He’ll bring you something at most. He’ll let you sleep with him again.. but the biggest of them all would be how he apologies. It would be murmurs. You wouldn’t even notice he’s trying to say sorry.. The only time he can do it is after he cums in your pussy.

Makeup sex is the way for Zoro. He cannot just verbally say sorry, it doesn’t feel correct.

“..a-ah!… Zoro~… Fuck-.. Fuck-…!” Once you’re creaming all over his cock and he’s digging his cum in you, he will be a panting mess. But yet, his kisses would be planted all on your back and your neck.. up to your ear.

“…I’m fucking sorry…”

Sasuke Uchiha has either left the building or has laid back to watch the show. This man is the most flip flopping character anyone has ever seen. It really depends on the time and day you get angry. There’s the Sasuke who will sit there and watch you with a hard cock, and there’s the Sasuke who will ignore you for the rest of the day until he comes back.

When you’re yelling, cursing and using your hands to talk, Sasuke gets hard. What can I say? He loves strong, determined women. He cannot deal with weak women who stay cooped up in their emotions and never speak up. This is why a black woman is for him. He has a thing for women who speak their mind… and he doesn’t mind saying sorry with his tip kissing your womb.

However, there’s the other side of him that wishes you would shut up for one minute. He knows he’s most likely in the wrong, but hearing you say it and curse him out kind of hurts his pride. He likes to leave home around this type of situation. Does he come back? Yes.. Does he say sorry for leaving? Sorta. He comes back with a gift that’s for sure, but he doesn’t mutter the words ‘I’m sorry’. Not until you’re doing that favorite move on his cock.

If you say sorry for yelling and screaming while bouncing on him.. he’s in heaven.. and it’s not because you apologized.. it’s because he knows you love him just enough to say sorry..

He also knows you’re too stubborn to say that to anyone else.

“Fuck I’m sorry-… I’m sorry Sasuke-… baby…” It literally makes his eyes uncontrollable. His rinnegan stays the same, however his other eye turns that signature red. It’s like he just wanted to see more with his sharingan…. He wanted to see your brown pussy lips even more, and your pink insides..

“Sorry..”

Kakuzu is just that one man that doesn’t care. Really. He had more important things to do. If you’re the type to scream and curse him out while angry, then you’re out of luck. If you are the type that says nothing and presents the silent treatment.. then you may have a chance.

There’s something about the silent treatment that gets Kakuzu’s blood boiling. He cannot stand seeing you avoid him, let alone go running to his partner and talking to that silver haired bastard. Kakuzu cannot stand it. He will constantly give you a harsh glare until you talk to him. But, if you’re consistent and you don’t tend to him at all, he’ll only wrap his tendrils around you.

Doesn’t matter if you’re talking to someone or not, he will wrap them around you and take your bratty ass with him. The second that door slams, you’re all tied with his tendrils and he forces you to tell him what’s your problem.. if it’s someone else.. he’ll deal with it. If it’s something he did.. he’ll only apologize by releasing you and buying you a silky scarf the next day. Hey.. he’ll even eat your pussy for a bonus.

“Oooeh… fuck~…” you purred, curling your toes as those black tendril’s kept your thighs parted. You could see just as well. Kakuzu was slurping every drop of juice that came out of you… and his green irises didn’t fail to stare into your soul while he did it..

“Still pissed off, woman?..”

Armin Arlert will be the one to talk things out with you. There are two men on this list who will, and he’s one of them. He will not force you to do anything, let alone fuck you to tell the truth. The blonde will only watch your anger disperse into thin air after he pampers you with services and material things. He knows you don’t care much for money, but he will buy you whatever you want.

He doesn’t want you pissed off at him forever. That’s what he believes will happen anyways. But, to put things short, he gets you happy faster than the rest. He does this within the hour he sees you mad. If he’s made you mad in some way, shape, or form, he’s going to apologize regardless. Even if it isn’t his fault, he’s spitting out apologies and begging for forgiveness.

He will not go straight to sex, as he believes it will alter the way you two go about things. Instead, after he pampers you in such a manner, he will take you out to dinner and he’ll then.. make passionate love to you.. filled with ‘I love you’.

“Armin-… oh-… right there baby…”

“Right here..? Alright baby I got it.” He softly spoke, his cock rushing through you time and time again. His voice was so soft compared to his hips..

“I love you… I love you so much…”

Eren Yeager. Toxic as hell. We all know this man. The first thing he does when he notices how mad you are is ask you. Yes, he asks you what’s wrong. If you comply and tell him.. it’ll be all dandy.. but if you’re a brat and you say that he should already know what’s wrong, you’re in for it.

This man will not only fuck the truth out of you.. but he will be so rough that you’re seeing stars and you can barely remember what you were even mad for. He cares about your feelings, yes, but the fact is that you were trying to be smart.. so he just fucked the smartness out of you.

Honestly though, after Eren does that and when your brain comes back to life, he will hold you. He won’t leave your side and he’ll even lift you and take you to the bath after a while. No doubt, he has his answer now. He got it while he fucked you silly. If it’s his fault, he’ll actually apologize, however if it’s someone else’s fault… he’s gonna grab his glocky and that’s that.

Long story short.. he’s trying to do better about that..

“Don’t try to hide anything from me.. I just don’t like that shit…”

“Okay.. so that means fuck me and make me mess up the sheets..?”

“Well.. Nah…. I just don’t like that smartass attitude, baby. Now cmere’ I gotta fix that” Eren says as he points to your lifting lace front.

Ichigo Kurosaki will only make the situation worse before it gets better. However, this isn’t such a bad thing. His brain can only comprehend women a little. He doesn’t understand why you’re even mad. He’ll have to get a lesson from Kisuke, that's for sure. The lesson being, women are always right.. which isn’t true at all, but it’s a known motto. Ichigo will try to stand by it..

But he’s Ichigo.

The argument between you two will go on for less than an hour before you're laughing and he’s laughing non stop. Either you two saw someone fall, or you ended up watching something that was entirely too funny to not laugh. Not only that, but you two are straight back to holding each other close.

Ichigo is always so tired from dealing with the soul society, so you naturally understand he comes and goes. But, he does say sorry eventually.. with a letter. He cannot verbally say it because he’s a secret tsundere and will blush like hell is on earth.

‘ I’m sorry for being a bastard. I love you.’

Byakuya Kuchiki, the other man who will talk things out. He’s not dumb whatsoever, and frankly, he knows you’re mad just from the way you hold a glass or the way you move your lips. He’s very attentive and cannot miss a beat with you. Another main, obvious example would be when you are doing your hair and you get frustrated too quickly.

The way of approaching you would be quite formal. He’ll ask pretty quick. He won’t hold back, and he prefers you don’t either. He’s such a good man that you’ll most likely be spilling out what’s wrong. Once he knows, he’ll immediately try to fix said problem, it’ll be easier if it’s because of him… However, if it’s because of someone else, they better run like hell.

Byakuya may be pissed at himself if it was him, but someone else??? Not only will he have a long talk with you, but it’ll also be a long talk with that other person.. and you are also tagging along. He doesn’t like when you’re mad, simply because it interrupts the peace and he wants you happy. He’s the dull one here.. he doesn’t need you to be the same.

After correcting said situation, Byakuya would have a meal ready for the both of you.. and he will make sure to pamper you in a bathtub.. he’s also the king of kissing hands.

“I’d love it if you kept that gorgeous smile on your face. Don’t let anyone take that away, not even me.”

#anime x black!reader #black reader #one piece x reader #akatsuki headcanons #one piece x poc!reader #naruto x black reader #bleach x black reader #aot x black reader #aot x reader #bleach x reader #one piece x reader smut #one piece x black!reader smut #naruto headcanons #bleach scenarios #eren x black reader #trafalgar law x black!reader #zoro x black reader #armin x black reader

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ylangelegy · 1 month ago

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the loser and lover both die at the end ꩜ yeonjun.

── .✦ 💌 inspired by adam silvera's they both die at the end, major character death, alternate universe: non-idol, [heavy] angst, grief/mourning, last day on earth, platonic relationships, slice of life, [possibly] unrequited love.

── .✦ 🚏 this is the last of my non-svt/skz fanfiction for now! first published on ao3... at a time where i was admittedly very obsessed with yeonjun's watermelon sugar x blow dance cover (lol). this is thematically heavy, so please look out for yourself. it's also my first ever kpop fic (whew!) and so my writing style isn't like this anymore, but it's a good time capsule of some sorts.

── .✦ 📟 wc: 12,000+

On the day that he’s supposed to die, Choi Yeonjun learns what it means to be alive.

Choi Yeonjun was in the locker room when he got the call.

It was cruel, really. Everything had been so perfect until then. The cold noodles he had for breakfast were divine. There wasn’t any traffic on the way to the dance studio. And it took him only three hours to film his dance cover of Watermelon Sugar, as opposed to his other routines that usually ate up his whole day.

He had ducked into the locker room to send the group chat a quick text about their dinner plans when his phone started ringing. It was an unregistered number, which Yeonjun wouldn’t usually have bothered to answer— but he was in such a good mood, and how could anything go wrong on a day like this?

“Yeonjun speaking,” he chirped, using his free hand to sift through the mess of his locker. He was pretty sure he’d packed an extra pair of clothes somewhere. “Who’s this?”

“Hello. I’m calling from Death-cast.”

A beat.

“Could you please confirm that you are Choi Yeonjun, born September 13, 1999?” the monotone voice on the other end of the line asked.

It wasn’t until later that Yeonjun would realize how standard the entire spiel was. He’d already mentioned his name on the get-go; this stranger was just calmly reading off a script as if it weren’t the worst call of Yeonjun’s life.

“Hello, Yeonjun? Are you there?”

“Yes,” Yeonjun said quickly. Pulling away from his locker, he slumped down onto the nearest bench. “Yes, this is Choi Yeonjun.”

“Thank you, Yeonjun. I regret to inform you that sometime in the next 24 hours, you will be meeting an untimely death.” The caller paused, as if to let the information sink in.

“On behalf of Death-cast, we are sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest, okay?”

“Okay,” Yeonjun responded dazedly. Then, more out of habit than anything, he weakly added, “Thank you.”

The call cut without another word.

Yeonjun sat in his seat for what felt like an eternity, staring at his phone log. Three minutes. His entire conversation with the Death-cast had lasted only three minutes.

This had happened to him before. He’d be having a Good Day, but then something small would come around and trip him up.

Maybe the master CD would refuse to play. Maybe Soobin nicked the kimbap he’d been saving. There was always something.

Beomgyu jokingly called them hiccups, and Yeonjun found himself waiting for them; holding his breath for whatever might take away his day’s joy.

The Death-cast call was today’s hiccup. The worst hiccup he’d ever gotten.

His phone pinged, snapping him out of his shell-shocked state. It was Soobin.

do u still need a ride?

Ping. Another text from Soobin.

reply asap i wont hv time 2 make a uturn if u dont reply NOW

Despite himself, Yeonjun chuckled. What did Soobin know about not having time?

As he keyed in his response, he contemplated skipping out on dinner. Maybe he could just disappear. No one would ever have to know he was dying, and they’d also never know when he died.

I’ll meet you there, Yeonjun responded instead.

Ping.

suit urself!!!! dnt b late yeonttomeok ~

The stupid nickname. Yeonjun grimaced at the sight of it. Then, his expression softened, because he realized that he couldn’t do it.

Yeonjun couldn’t run from Soobin or the rest of the boys. If he was going to spend his last day with anyone, he was going to do it with them.

He left the dance studio half an hour later. He emptied out his locker first, then he walked around for a bit to take it all in. On his way out, he tacked a note on the studio’s student corkboard.

It would take a few days for anyone to notice. The grieving custodian is the one who finds it; a neon orange Post-It, hiding in plain sight among a sea of reminders and ID pictures.

Thank you, he’d written. For everything. -YJ. 09/16/21

“You should try some of my pizza,” Hueningkai said enthusiastically, shoving a slice onto everyone’s plates. “It’s to die for!”

Yeonjun choked on his drink.

On Yeonjun’s right, Beomgyu burst into peals of laughter, mimicking Yeonjun’s hacking coughs. Soobin, on the left, was tapping Yeonjun’s back sympathetically— though also visibly holding back his own grin.

As Yeonjun tried to clear the blockage in his throat, he fleetingly thought that this was it. He was going to drop dead in the booth of an American fast food chain, right before he could even tell his friends that he was on borrowed time.

But then the cola went down, and Hueningkai’s incessant apologies started sounding louder than the fears in his head, and Yeonjun quietly thanked God that his cause of death was not as lame as he thought it’d be.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” Yeonjun sighed, looking around the table. A sneer for Beomgyu. A smile of reassurance for Soobin and Hueningkai. And for Taehyun…

There was an odd look on Taehyun’s face that knocked the wind out of Yeonjun.

It was almost like Taehyun knew. How could he, though?

Yeonjun held the other boy’s gaze, the two of them staring each other down intently.

“Earth to Yeonjun,” Beomgyu sing-songed, waving his hand in front of Yeonjun’s face.

Taehyun looked temporarily startled by the intrusion before his expression quickly shifted into something more pleasant. Despite both of them breaking into a smile, Yeonjun couldn’t help but still feel a bit unsettled.

“You’re extra sunny today,” Yeonjun sarcastically told Beomgyu. The latter smiled cheekily and shrugged.

“What can I say? I love the first Friday of each month,” the younger boy said. As he turned away from Yeonjun to shove some fries into his mouth, it occurred to Yeonjun that this would be their last first Friday.

The five of them had been close friends since 2019. It started off as a small group that enjoyed playing computer games with each other, but then Taehyun quit gaming to focus on his studies and Hueningkai decided he wanted to spend his money on collecting plush toys.

It was Soobin who insisted that they meet up even if it meant not going to internet cafes anymore. That unassuming evening marked the start of a two-year tradition of meeting up every first Friday of the month.

They still met up outside of those Fridays, of course. Soobin and Yeonjun actually moved in to be roommates half a year ago, and Beomgyu liked to still play video games with Yeonjun every now and then.

But first Fridays were sacred. No one missed out on them, come storms or break-ups. Their Fridays were the glue that kept the five of them together.

“Sorry. Give me a second.”

It didn’t immediately register to Yeonjun that Taehyun had excused himself from the table. Only when Hueningkai made an offhand comment about Taehyun taking his time, only then did the feeling of dread settle at the pit of Yeonjun’s stomach.

“I’ll check on him,” he volunteered immediately, hastily climbing over Soobin’s legs to get out of the suffocating booth.

As he speedily walked away, he could hear Beomgyu cracking a joke to the remaining two boys. Yeonjun missed out on the rest of the story as he ducked into the men’s bathroom.

The overwhelming stench of bile was the first thing that hit Yeonjun; instinctively, he covered his nose with his hand.

From a barely closed stall, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of someone retching. Trying his best not to gag, Yeonjun took a few tentative steps towards the source.

From where he was standing, he could recognize Taehyun’s Adidas shoes.

Yeonjun couldn’t come any closer.

Taehyun, from inside the stall, finally stopped convulsing. A brief moment passed before he flushed and stumbled out. Head bent, Taehyun mumbled apologies before stopping in his tracks at the sight of Yeonjun. For the second time that night, the two carefully regarded each other.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Taehyun made an annoyed tsk sound. Then, unexpectedly, he grinned up at the older boy.

“You too, huh?” he asked quietly.

To Yeonjun, it felt like the punch line to the world’s worst joke.

They decided to tell the rest of the boys after footing the bill.

It was unceremonious at best and merciless at worst, for Taehyun and Yeonjun to break the news outside Hueningkai’s favorite restaurant. And Beomgyu made it so easy, too, by kidding about it as they headed out.

“What are you two so nice for? Don’t tell me you’re dying,” he teased, and Taehyun and Yeonjun shared a look as if to say, Well, now that you’ve mentioned it…

Even though they talked it over in the bathroom, actually telling the rest turned out to be quite hard. At first, Beomgyu thought they were messing with him; that they’d colluded the whole plot while they were both gone.

As he screeched at Taehyun and Yeonjun that it wasn’t funny, Yeonjun pulled out his phone to show off his last received call. Taehyun did the same.

Beomgyu got dreadfully quiet after that.

Soobin, ever the soft one, burst into quiet tears. Hueningkai held on to him, looking as though he might pass out if he wasn’t clutching on to something. Taehyun approached the two and whispered words of comfort that Yeonjun caught only bits and pieces of.

“Have each other… Accepted our fate… Be okay…”

Lies, the eldest of them found himself thinking angrily. All lies.

No longer able to handle it, Yeonjun stalked over to Beomgyu. The younger boy was crouched near the sidewalk corner with no discernible expression on his face. His silence spoke volumes to Yeonjun; it was comforting to share, so much that Yeonjun felt a bit disappointed when Beomgyu spoke up.

“What now?”

“What now?” Yeonjun repeated.

“Are you just gonna lay down and die?” Beomgyu asked brazenly. Momentarily floored by Beomgyu’s audacity, Yeonjun looked at him like it was his first time seeing him.

It was a silly notion, honestly. They saw each other practically every day. Next to Soobin, Beomgyu was the one closest to him. Admittedly, though, Beomgyu was also the one who irritated him the most.

But not today.

“I’ve always loved how shameless you can be,” Yeonjun blurted out, the heat immediately rushing to his cheeks at the sudden confession. If Beomgyu was surprised, he didn’t show it.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he answered with a faint smirk. “Anyway, back to my question. What now? Don’t you want to live the rest of your life fully?”

“But it’s 8 PM,” Yeonjun said dumbly. Beomgyu promptly smacked him on the back of the head, making Yeonjun yell with indignation.

“You’re dying and you’re thinking about curfew?” Beomgyu bellowed. “Do you understand just how stupid that sounds?”

“I swear, you’ll be the one that kills me,” Yeonjun grumbled, rubbing the spot Beomgyu hit.

The younger boy barrelled on. “We don’t know how or when exactly you’re going to die. You and Tae can’t sit around and just wait. There’s so much that you can do in 24 hours!”

“Less than 24 hours.”

“With all due respect, Junnie—I don’t give a fuck.”

Yeonjun let out a disbelieving chuckle. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Beomgyu was right. It’d be a waste to spend his last day in fearful anticipation of the inevitable.

“Do you have a marker on you?” Yeonjun asked suddenly.

Between the five of them, Beomgyu was the only one who was skilled at drawing. He sometimes carried the most random of art materials around with him and that night was no exception. “Just a blue one,” he said after sifting through his backpack. No questions asked, he passed it over to Yeonjun.

Looking around, Yeonjun zeroed in on the restaurant’s painted wall. It was in a pristine shade of white. Perfect.

“Cover for me,” he commanded Beomgyu. The latter did as he was told, shielding Yeonjun from the street’s view.

After a minute or two, Beomgyu was no longer able to contain his curiosity. “What are you doing?” he piped up, obviously trying to mask his interest.

The impatience made Yeonjun laugh.

“You can look now,” he said.

Beomgyu turned to face Yeonjun.

On the restaurant’s shop front, Yeonjun had left yet another small thing to be remembered by. Along with a doodle of a pizza and a cola was a scrawled note, a note: YJ’s last supper. 09/16/21.

If it had been any other day, Beomgyu might have commented on the abysmal state of Yeonjun’s drawings or the chicken scratch quality of his handwriting. That night, though, he wordlessly reached out for the marker.

Quickly, he sketched what seemed to be chibi versions of the two of them.

“Always stealing my thunder,” Yeonjun jeered, though the taunt was softened significantly by the astonishment beneath his tone. Beomgyu’s rendition of them was uncanny. Finishing up, he wrote: Gyu was here too!

Beomgyu looked up at Yeonjun, and Yeonjun smiled at him in response.

An iPhone note found in Choi Yeonjun’s phone, dated September 16, 2021. Last edited: 8:34 PM.

☑ Commit vandalism

☑ Have a good meal

▢ Film and post a dance video

▢ Play Overwatch

▢ Go to a thrift shop and buy Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin better clothes

▢ Go on a date

▢ Write my last will and testament

▢ Say goodbye to mom and dad

▢ Take photos to leave for Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin

“You’re seriously going to waste time on Overwatch? On your last day ever?” Beomgyu complained.

Yeonjun angled his phone away from Beomgyu’s view. “It’s my bucket list. Not yours.”

“Stop fighting,” Soobin said. His eyes were rimmed with red from his non-stop crying. It made Yeonjun’s heart ache.

The three of them were in the back of a cab, heading to Yeonjun’s family home in Bundang. Though it was the last on his bucket list, it was the first thing he wanted off his chest.

He didn’t intend to tell his parents over the phone. He wasn’t even sure if he should even tell his parents at all.

Half an hour ago, Taehyun and Yeonjun agreed to not wallow over their impending death. They had individual businesses that they first had to deal with but they made plans to meet up after so the five of them could be complete.

Hueningkai stuck with Taehyun while Beomgyu and Soobin decided to accompany Yeonjun.

“I’m just saying, you could be spending your time a little wiser than losing to me and Soobin,” Beomgyu quipped.

Sighing dramatically, Yeonjun removed the goal from his list.

Before he could hit Beomgyu with another wisecrack, their ride came to a screeching halt. Thankfully, Soobin was strict on always wearing seatbelts; the safety device kept them from launching forward, though Beomgyu’s forehead did collide with the driver’s headrest.

Beomgyu howled with pain as the driver profusely apologized. “A stray cat bolted in front of us as I was pulling in to park,” the driver explained. “I didn’t notice.”

Yeonjun exhaled, one hand clutching his chest.

The three of them slid out of the backseat and onto the Seongnam sidewalk. “You alright?” Soobin asked quietly as Beomgyu went to pay for the ride.

The honest answer: Yeonjun was a little shaken.

Each step felt like there might be a minefield beneath his feet. He kept imagining a bunch of different scenarios on how it would happen, who would be there with him when it did. He didn’t want it to be any of the three boys, but they were insistent on keeping him and Taehyun company.

No one seemed like they were ready to let go.

Instead, what Yeonjun said: “Yeah, I’m good.”

Beomgyu returned, another unreadable expression on his face. “The driver wouldn’t let me pay,” he reported, shaking his head. “He eavesdropped on us a bit, I think, because he—” A pause.

The hard-to-read look suddenly became clear to Yeonjun. It was the same look of when Beomgyu polaroids came out all wrong, or when he miscalculated a toy’s position in a claw game. It was a mix of annoyance, and disappointment—and a little bit of sadness.

“He what?” Soobin prompted.

Beomgyu looked directly at Yeonjun, opening and closing his mouth as though considering how to tell him. Finally, he choked out the rest of his sentence.

“He sends his condolences.”

“The worst thing that could ever happen to a parent is to have their child leave this Earth before them.”

Those were the only words that Yeonjun committed to memory. The conversation he had with his parents was not so much a conversation as much as it was groveling, sobbing, cursing.

There was anger. There was sadness. There was all the love they could offer each other.

Though it broke his heart, Yeonjun begged his parents to let him go for the simple reason that he couldn’t bear the thought of passing away in their presence. He promised to call, if he could. He swore to have Beomgyu and Soobin at his side, at all times, to call them if he couldn’t.

Then his father told him about the worst thing that could happen—how it was already happening—, and he hugged Yeonjun with a finality that didn’t need any spoken goodbye, and Yeonjun damn near reconsidered throwing it all away to spend his final hours with them.

Holding on to his pride, he hugged his father back. He gave his mother a kiss on the forehead.

He asked that they both smile so his last image of them would be “not all that sad.”

And, just like that, the Chois let go of their only son.

The cab ride back to Hueningkai and Taehyun was a solemn one. Yeonjun was thankful that neither Beomgyu nor Soobin felt the need to speak. They had waited outside Yeonjun’s home while he was saying his goodbyes to his parents, and they had let him take the window seat where he could stare listlessly out at the highway. This is the last time I’ll see this strip of road, Yeonjun numbly thought to himself. It was tiring to think in lasts. It was all he could seem to do as the minutes ticked by.

Ping.

Hueningkai, whose Instagram account previously had zero photos, had just uploaded a photo of him posing with Taehyun. Lotte World all to ourselves!!!~ , the caption said.

“That’s new,” Beomgyu mumbled, looking at the post over Yeonjun’s shoulder.

“We saw each other practically every day for the past two years,” Soobin interjected, voice hollow. He was staring at Hueningkai’s post on his own phone. “Hyuka never saw the point in posting about us, because it wasn’t like we were going anywhere.”

The implication of Soobin’s words weighed heavy in the air. Now that two of us are dying, Hueningkai wants to capture whatever we have left.

“I’m just glad to finally be Instagram official,” Beomgyu blurted out.

Both Soobin and Yeonjun shook their head, but Yeonjun was secretly glad to have an excuse to laugh.

By the time they got to Lotte World, Hueningkai and Taehyun were already donning ridiculous animal headbands and sharing some honey butter chips.

“I got you guys headbands, too!” Hueningkai said. He pulled three out of his bag and proceeded to pass Beomgyu and Soobin theirs. Hueningkai asked Yeonjun to bend down so he could put it on himself.

“A fox?” Yeonjun asked, skeptically eyeing his reflection in a nearby shop mirror.

“Don’t you look like one?” Hueningkai shot back.

“How am I a bear?” Beomgyu whined, pinching the brown ears of his own headband.

Soobin quickly retorted, “Because you’re un-bear-able!”

It was a terrible pun but all the boys chuckled a bit nonetheless. Beomgyu yelled “Yah!”, reaching out to hit Soobin— who swiftly dodged, which meant Beomgyu’s slap landed on the small of Taehyun’s back. The chase that ensued had Soobin, Hueningkai, and Yeonjun doubling over in laughter.

“By the way,” Yeonjun mused out loud as they started strolling down the amusement park’s mostly empty avenues. “Why are we here after hours? Lotte World should be closed.”

Hueningkai’s face fell, and Yeonjun suddenly wished that he never asked.

“Lotte World is tied in with Death-cast,” Beomgyu answered instead. He and Taehyun had caught up to the rest, done with their chase. The latter looked a little out of breath; Yeonjun concernedly glanced over at him, to which Taehyun responded with a thumbs up and a gesture to keep listening to Beomgyu. “They allot their after-hours to people who might want to spend their last day here.”

Not wanting to dampen the mood any further, Yeonjun forced on a smirk. He threw an arm around Hueningkai’s shoulders and gave him a light shove forward

“Let’s make the most out of it then!” Yeonjun said resolutely. “Come on, Hyuka. We’ll go wherever you pick!”

That made Hueningkai light up like a Christmas tree. For the first time that night, Yeonjun felt like he’d done something right.

And go wherever Hueningkai picked they did. After around an hour or so, Soobin was already calling for something less exciting. “I don’t think my heart can take any more of this,” he cried dramatically.

“How about there?” Hueningkai said excitedly. Four pairs of eyes followed to see where he was pointing: A photobooth.

“Perfect,” Yeonjun said. “I’ve been meaning to take some photos.”

“Why don’t we go first, hyung?”

The other boys fell quiet when Taehyun addressed Yeonjun. Taehyun was smiling delicately, face flushed from the consecutive high-stakes rides. In one hand, he held a squirrel stuffed toy that Beomgyu had won him at a shooting game.

Taehyun looked so serene. So alive, Yeonjun thought in awe.

Yeonjun grinned back at his friend. “I’d like that.”

The two slid into the booth as Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin looked at costumes for themselves.

“This is part of my bucket list,” Yeonjun shared as he started loading the coins into its slot. “I wanted to give them photos of us, for them to remember.”

“That’s smart,” Taehyun responded. “We won’t have enough photos of each other to go by.”

Yeonjun swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to look directly at Taehyun. Outside the booth, they could hear the sounds of Hueningkai and Soobin arguing over a plastic mustache.

If they tried really hard, they could pretend that it was just like any other day—and shouldn’t it be like that anyway, Yeonjun contemplated. He debated about asking Taehyun whether he thought this was for the best; knowing they’d pass within 24 hours.

As if sensing Yeonjun’s internal conflict, Taehyun reached out to push the last few coins into their slot. The photobooth roared to life, a woman’s voice welcoming them and instructing them on what to click next. Neither of the two tapped on anything on the screen.

But then Taehyun shrugged. “Come on,” he encouraged. “Let’s leave them with good-looking photos of us.”

Before the two could pose properly, though, Beomgyu burst through the curtains of the photo booth. “Cheese!” he screeched, throwing himself over Taehyun and Yeonjun’s legs.

“Hey!” Yeonjun protested, trying to shove Beomgyu off his lap. Meanwhile, Taehyun started giggling and making room for Beomgyu on the bench.

Click. Click. Click.

“Why must you ruin everything?” Yeonjun groaned as the photo strips printed out. In the first two photos, he and Taehyun looked fine; the remaining four were extremely chaotic with Beomgyu’s unexpected entrance.

“You look best here, don’t you think?” Beomgyu said innocently, pointing out the picture where Yeonjun was mid-yell. The older boy raised his hand as if to smack Beomgyu, who promptly ducked behind Hueningkai for protection.

“We can take more,” Taehyun assured. Despite his tousled hair and the beads of sweat trailing down his face, he shone brighter than he ever had. There was a reassuring smile on his face, one that had found comfort in an inevitable fate.

When all is said and done, that is how Yeonjun chooses to remember Taehyun; the healthy, happy Taehyun of this moment.

Yeonjun doesn’t know that yet, of course. Not while it’s happening. “I want one with our baby Hyuka,” he announced, reaching out for the youngest of their group.

“I’ll get some with Soobin and Beomgyu then,” Taehyun responded.

They took photos with each other and of each other. Taehyun and Yeonjun eventually got their own photo strip without Beomgyu interrupting. The five of them had at least seven different sets together until they’d run through each prop the booth had to offer, and they’d played with every single filter available.

Hueningkai held on to the photo strips as if they were important documents. As they went out to grab some snacks at one of the nearby food stalls, Yeonjun followed Hueningkai wandering over to a corner.

“What are you doing?” Yeonjun asked.

The blonde boy had laid out all the photos and was attempting to take a picture of them. “Oh, I was making a post on my Instagram account,” he admitted, sounding a bit shy of the fact.

“I saw you posted for the first time earlier.”

“Yeah, I never had a reason to use my account before. I guess I just... want to document today. I don’t want to forget anything.”

The slight quiver in his voice damn near made Yeonjun cry. Reeling in his emotions, Yeonjun moved around some of the photo strips. “Here,” he said. “I think it looks better like that.”

Smiling appreciatively, Hueningkai snapped his picture.

“What should I caption it?”

They both paused, contemplating.

“Ah, I’ve got it!” Hueningkai said excitedly, typing away at his phone. Yeonjun peered over his shoulder to check.

“‘Five forever,’” Yeonjun read out loud.

“Five forever,” Hueningkai repeated resolutely, looking straight at Yeonjun. “No matter what.”

If he had a choice, Yeonjun would have gone out dancing.

Dance was one of the few constants in his life. It was something Yeonjun whole-heartedly knew that he was good at. He meant to be an instructor, even, had the Death-cast call never happened.

His peers constantly joked that he was in the running to take over their studio’s director role. Guess they were wrong, Yeonjun bitterly thought to himself as he intently scrolled through his phone for a song.

His final dance break song.

The boys had set out after Lotte World to go clothes shopping when Yeonjun remembered one of the other to-dos on his list. Film and post a dance video. They took a detour to the nearest park and loitered a bit, and Yeonjun was reckoned with the most difficult decision of his dancing career.

All this time, he refused to upload any clips of him dancing. Sure, there were some up on the Internet; group dances from the studio, an Instagram story here and there from his friends. But Yeonjun had never uploaded one himself— never quite ready for that kind of self-exposure.

Now or never, he decided.

“You did Watermelon Sugar earlier today, didn’t you?” Soobin asked as he curiously peered over Yeonjun’s shoulder to check the song options. “The remix with Blow. Why don’t you just redo that?”

“I want to do something new. Something original,” Yeonjun responded distractedly. FEVER? Paper Hearts? “But all of these, I’ve already danced to.”

“What about one of ours?” Beomgyu offered, yawning and stretching absentmindedly.

Yeonjun stopped scrolling.

Taehyun, from a bench away, let out a groan. “You know the demos we make aren’t serious,” he complained. “And don’t you have an ounce of shame, Gyu? Those songs were kind of—”

“Don’t you dare call them bad!” Beomgyu interrupted defensively. “Our songs could have made it big if you weren’t so keen on locking them up!”

“Upload it once I’m gone, then,” Taehyun deadpanned. “Call that shit posthumous.”

As Beomgyu flinched and Hueningkai rained a few punches down Taehyun’s back, Yeonjun sped through their group chat to find the recording of their latest arrangement. They’d composed only around half of it, promising each other that they would continue the rest on their next first Friday.

The rock instrumentals of their demo LOSER=LOVER struck up and echoed across the empty park. Soobin’s singing came out loud and clear through Yeonjun’s phone speakers.

“I’m a loser, I’m a loser,” Soobin crooned along with the audio. In the background, Taehyun covered his ears and Beomgyu perked up, ready to steal Yeonjun’s parts in the song.

Had it been any other day, Yeonjun would have rolled his eyes at the younger boy, but his mind was busy putting together the pieces of a possible dance routine. Usually, it took him days to come up with one that he was content with. He didn’t have that much time tonight.

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” Yeonjun announced after one full listen of the unfinished track. He stood and positioned himself between the row of blooming dogwood trees, trying to shake out the lingering uneasiness.

“I can film you!” Hueningkai cried out excitedly, standing across Yeonjun as the latter did some light stretching. Yeonjun shot him an appreciative thumbs up.

Inhale. They’d all seen him dance before; he could just never fully shake his nervousness. The others seemed to pick up on this, quickly giving Yeonjun small forms of affirmation.

Beomgyu let out encouraging hoots and chanted Yeonjun’s name. Taehyun finally lowered his hands from his ears, smiling assuredly in anticipation of the routine. And Soobin pulled out his own phone, finger poised expectantly over his record button.

Exhale.

Yeonjun hit play, and immediately found himself consumed by the music.

It was like second nature to him. Every agile step, every sharp turn. He followed along to the song as if it were something he’d practiced his whole life. Each beat reverberated to his very bone, filling his chest with so much joy he felt like a balloon that just might burst.

“Here comes the good stuff!” Beomgyu squealed as Taehyun started humming along. Love you, love you, love you; no matter what I do.

“I say run, laugh like you’ve gone mad, ” Hueningkai belted out. Yeonjun almost missed a step because of how it distracted him, but he was glad to have small disturbances such as Beomgyu trying to mimic his dance moves or Taehyun finally screaming the lyrics out loud as well.

The post-chorus was his and Beomgyu’s part. It was the easiest choreography to think of, too. I’m a loser, his pre-recorded self sang, and the Yeonjun dancing threw up an L with his pointer finger and thumb. He broke out into a smile, feeling as if the world were spinning.

It’s the sensation he’ll miss the most. The heat, the soreness. Even then, he knows that his body will ache most for the rush he had come to adore.

The song ended abruptly, and Yeonjun snapped out of his trance.

The boys were all clapping and cheering. “I can’t believe you did all that in one go,” Taehyun complimented as Beomgyu and Hueningkai surged forward to envelope Yeonjun in a hug.

“I’m sweaty!” the oldest boy complained laughingly, allowing them to embrace him nonetheless.

“I have the fan cam version!” Soobin joked, holding up his phone. “Where do you want it?”

Grinning widely over Beomgyu and Hueningkai’s shoulders, Yeonjun told Soobin, “Everywhere.”

If there was anything Beomgyu and Yeonjun so intimately shared, it would be their terrific sense of fashion— something the rest of the boys were so painfully ignorant about.

So when Yeonjun had to choose someone to accompany him to the 24/7 Myeongdeong thrift shops— Taehyun complained that he was tired and wanted to go back to his dorm— the answer was as clear as day. Beomgyu and Yeonjun promised to regroup with them back at Taehyun’s within an hour.

It was a comforting shopping spree, actually. Beomgyu must have toned down his energy, only hitting Yeonjun with the occasional wisecrack compared to the typical several jokes per minute. Briefly, Yeonjun worried that he was being pitied.

“This would look good on Hyuka,” Beomgyu commented, holding up a light gray sweatshirt for Yeonjun to see. The two were in their last store. They already had eco bags crammed to the brim with clothes, but they’d decided to do a final stop before heading home.

“I was thinking about this one for Soobin,” Yeonjun said in turn, showing off a black and yellow embroidered vest.

“That one’s nice.”

“I think Hyuka would fit comfortably in that panel shirt over there, too.”

After snagging a couple more overrun Ralph Lauren pieces and three pairs of specs for Soobin, the two fell in line for checkout. “I can’t believe we didn’t do this more often,” Beomgyu hummed, rustling through the picks. “Shopping with Soobin was so boring. He only ever wanted to go to the department store.”

“I gave up on Hyuka, too,” Yeonjun laughed. He was excited to see Hueningkai’s expression; a lot of the clothes they’d picked for him were sure to fit his style. “This should be enough to last them for a little while.”

“And then they’ll go back to their plain clothes?”

“And then you’ll buy them more.”

A long pause followed Yeonjun’s words.

Though he had packaged it as a joke, they both knew the underlying message lurking under the lighthearted tone. You’ll take care of them, right? Yeonjun was asking.

Beomgyu pursed his lips together and nodded, answering the unspoken question. I will.

Yeonjun gave him an appreciative smile. I knew I could count on you.

“What else do you have on your bucket list, anyway?” Beomgyu asked in an effort to change the topic. They shuffled forward awkwardly, the line in front of them moving along rather slow.

“Just some serious stuff left, really,” Yeonjun replied vaguely. To write his last will and testament was still left unchecked. He wasn’t sure how or when he’d do it; sitting down and accepting his fate like that was a terrifying ordeal. “There is one that’s pretty tame, but I’m thinking of just crossing it out completely.”

“Which?”

“To go on a date.” Yeonjun laughed at the thought of it. It seemed so trivial now.

He’d put it down because he hadn’t really had the time to go on a proper date. Though his mother tried setting him up with her neighbors’ daughters— and even though Soobin offered a double date every now and then— Yeonjun found that he was always too busy, too disinterested, too insecure.

A small part of him wished he’d said yes to at least one of them so he could have a memory at a cafe or a cinema. But he was so caught up in thinking that he had so much more time than he actually did, and he thought his first date would be something special— only to have it not happen at all.

Nothing good comes to those who wait, he thought woefully.

Beomgyu whipped out his phone and clicked on an app. Leaning over to peek, Yeonjun saw that it was for dating. He knew that Beomgyu and Soobin had profiles. He just couldn’t be bothered to get one, too. Putting himself out there like that felt scary.

“This is a great way to find a date, even if you’re in a bit of a clutch,” Beomgyu chirped. “I’ve used it before when I needed someone to go with me to a wedding or a school fair.”

“That’s smart.”

“I know right? Anyway— we’re not here to talk about the obvious.” Yeonjun rolled his eyes, but Beomgyu barreled on. “Let’s make you a profile.”

“I don’t know…” Yeonjun started hesitantly. Beomgyu was quick to interject.

“What are you scared of?” he challenged. “What do you have to lose, really?”

Yesterday, Yeonjun might have answered his dignity or his pride. In the thrift shop, though, he begrudgingly had to admit that Beomgyu was right. He had nothing to lose.

“Sign me up,” Yeonjun conceded, and Beomgyu broke out into a proud grin.

After arguing over which photos of Yeonjun to choose, Beomgyu typed out a prospective bio to go on his profile. Urgent: Dying boy seeking a mind-blowing date that will let him go out with a bang.

“You make it sound so dirty,” Yeonjun groaned, grabbing the phone from Beomgyu and deleting the entire text.

As the latter protested, Yeonjun tried his hand at a bio. Less than 24 hours left and looking for love. Be my baby before burying me six feet under?

“How pessimistic!” Beomgyu cried disapprovingly, though both of them were shaking with laughter. For a short while, they took turns writing terrible descriptions.

Beomgyu typed out Let’s kill this love, to which Yeonjun added ‘Till (my) death do we part.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Beomgyu concluded as he gasped for air. “Come on, we’re not even in the actual app yet.”

The next screen asked for Yeonjun’s dating preference.

Beomgyu tapped on the ‘Women’ button, showing it to Yeonjun for approval.

Riding on their shared joy and his newfound confidence, Yeonjun mindlessly blurted out, “Can you actually choose ‘Both’?”

In our life, we often experience “oh” moments. Modest points in time where so many things can shift in a split second. For both Beomgyu and Yeonjun— in that thrift shop line, with their sore arms carrying more clothes that either of them could ever need— that was one of those junctures for the two of them.

“Oh,” Beomgyu said, and it occurred to Yeonjun, suddenly. What he’d asked for.

Fear went off in Yeonjun’s brain like a screeching, bright red fire alarm. He wanted to take it back. He could say it was a joke.

But there was something in Beomgyu’s face— an expression that wasn’t of judgment or disgust. There was a gentle hopefulness to the way he looked at Yeonjun then. He looked so painfully reassuring, so ready to accept whatever Yeonjun wanted to do, wanted to be.

So how could Yeonjun lie to him?

“Yeah,” Yeonjun choked out, clenching his jaw nervously.

“I never knew,” Beomgyu mumbled before switching the options. Then, quickly, he added: “Me, too. I mean—I chose ‘Both’, too. I’m… I am, too.”

It was Yeonjun’s turn to say “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu chuckled. “I guess you never know, huh?”

Yeonjun nodded wordlessly, hoping that Beomgyu wouldn’t prod any further. Thankfully, the cashier finally called them to the front.

As Yeonjun unloaded the clothes they’d shopped, Beomgyu gestured that he’d do it. He shoved his phone at Yeonjun and pushed him to one side.

“If you want a date, you should get busy swiping,” Beomgyu said, beaming with amusement as he geared up for his punch line. “Let them know you’re dead serious.”

Hueningkai, Soobin, and Taehyun were watching something on Netflix by the time Beomgyu and Yeonjun got back.

The three were settled comfortably on the couch, sharing several opened bags of junk food and two bottles of cider. “Is that Squid Game? You’re watching without me?!” Beomgyu whined, trying to grab the remote from Soobin.

“I’m dying. I think I deserve to know what happens in episode six,” Taehyun said blankly before popping a chip in his mouth. Beomgyu pretended not to hear him, still scuffling with an indignant Soobin who was trying hard not to tear his gaze away from the screen. Meanwhile, Hueningkai greeted Yeonjun and helped him carry the bags into the room.

“Oh, this is so soft!” Hueningkai cried, zeroing out on the sweatshirt from earlier.

“Beomgyu picked that out for you,” Yeonjun said proudly.

“Thank you, Gyu!”

With Beomgyu successfully pausing the show, Soobin leaned over to inspect the pile of clothes that Hueningkai had toppled over. “This is a lot,” he said in awe.

“Please, this is barely half of what Yeonjun and I have,” Beomgyu scoffed.

As Taehyun ducked out to go to the bathroom, the boys sorted through the articles of clothing. Hueningkai and Soobin were incredibly enthusiastic, building each other’s pile of new clothes; mixing and matching some on the spot. While Beomgyu was criticizing their pairings, Yeonjun once again noticed a gap in their group.

A space that was left unfilled.

Yeonjun excused himself and stumbled over the clothes, towards the bathroom. It was unlocked. He peeked inside and found it empty. Something in his stomach sank at the sight of minuscule blood droplets on the toilet lid. How had no one noticed Taehyun slipping away?

Suddenly hyperaware, Yeonjun heard the distant, muted click of the front door closing.

Why was Taehyun trying to slip away?

Telling the rest that they were going on a quick 7-Eleven run— and swearing to the other boys that they’d both come back in one piece—Yeonjun grabbed his windbreaker and rushed out to follow Taehyun. It didn’t take much to find him. He was hanging out at the bus stop nearest his dorm, a city map in his hands.

Taehyun didn’t look surprised to see Yeonjun jogging up to him.

“Of course you’d notice,” Taehyun said once Yeonjun had reached him. “Do the others know?”

“We’re at 7-Eleven,” Yeonjun responded stiffly. The other boy cocked his head to one side as if assessing the lie.

“Believable. You should grab some bread for Soobin on your way back.”

“On our way back.”

“I’m not going back there, and you know it.”

Cold, callous, and calculating. Those were the typical words one would use to describe Taehyun. In their group, Taehyun was the most stable and reliable; he managed Beomgyu’s erratic moods and always looked out for Hueningkai.

It was easy to forget that he was on the younger end, considering how mature he always presented himself to be.

None of that maturity seemed to shine through in that very bus stop. Yeonjun saw Taehyun for what he was: A teenage boy counting his minutes left.

“Why not?” Yeonjun asked. He was firmly rooted to his spot. As much as Taehyun looked like he wanted to be alone, Yeonjun just couldn’t cut him some slack. “Come on, Taehyun. Come home with me.”

“I’m sick, hyung. I’ve been for a while now,” Taehyun said with a sad, sad. “You’ve noticed, right?”

Yeonjun had noticed. He’d taken trips to the drug store to buy Taehyun some painkillers. He’d cooked him soup for comfort. He’d even insisted that they should go to the hospital and check it out, but Taehyun was dead set on riding out what they thought to be a run-of-the-mill flu.

“I finally got it checked this morning. My sister brought me. No one could figure out a proper diagnosis, but right after our appointment—” Taehyun faltered. He met Yeonjun’s eyes. “The damn Death-cast call is so scripted, isn’t it?”

Yeonjun slumped down onto the vacant seat next to Taehyun.

“Anyway, I told my family over lunch,” Taehyun went on. “I wasn’t planning on letting the boys know—I just wanted to have a nice dinner and call it a day—but you…”

“How did you know before I told you? You looked like you already had a feeling.”

“I’ve always been the smartest one,” Taehyun retorted. Yeonjun wouldn’t have contested him either way.

Humoring Yeonjun, Taehyun folded his hands over his lap and smirked ever so slightly. “We both balked at Hueningkai saying that the pizza was ‘to die for’,” he said. “I don’t think you would have reacted that way were it any other day. For you to react to something as offhanded as that, you must be worried about dying.”

“Why aren’t you saying goodbye?” Yeonjun asked abruptly, the words tumbling over each other as his curiosity got the best of him. Taehyun winced in the slightest.

Taehyun didn’t owe Yeonjun an explanation, but Yeonjun couldn’t think straight. If he could, he would keep Taehyun by his side for the rest of their 24 hours. It was cruel to admit that Yeonjun didn’t want to be the one left living.

“I want to die alone,” Taehyun said decisively after a pause.

“Where no one I love will have to find me. My family thinks I’m with you. And you,” he looked straight at Yeonjun. “Will let the boys think that I’m with my family.”

Yeonjun recoiled as if he’d been punched. “You want me to lie to them?”

“Consider it my dying wish.”

“Taehyun!”

“Yeonjun.” The missing honorific made them both falter a bit. Taehyun took the edge out of his tone for his next words.

“I won’t be in the middle of nowhere. There’s a wing at the Seoul National Hospital for people who have been called. They make the funeral preparations and when you— when you’re— they let your legal guardian know. My sister knows, so she’s ready to pick me up.”

“I don’t want any of you to see me lose any more of my strength than I already have,” Taehyun went on steadily. “Let them remember the Taehyun who went to Lotte World with them. The Taehyun who tried his best not to spoil Squid Game. Let that be who I am. Not the Taeyun who’s coughing up blood.” For added effect, Taehyun reached out to clasp Yeonjun’s hands. He clung tightly, even as Yeonjun tried to pull away. “You’ll do that for me. Won’t you, hyung?” Taehyun pleaded, voice cracking. “You’ll let me have this.”

“You are cruel, Kang Taehyun,” Yeonjun responded through gritted teeth. “You are heartless and insensitive, and I will never forgive you.”

In turn, Taehyun gave him a gentle smile. The bus was rolling up to the stop. There’s no one here for you, Yeonjun wanted to yell at the driver. You’re not going to take him from me.

“There are letters on the bedside table,” he said. “I’ve left my phone at home, too, because when they start calling, I’ll want to answer— and it will take everything in me not to.”

Taehyun released his grip on Yeonjun. “I’m sorry, hyung. I’ll never be sorry enough.”

“If you’re really sorry, you wouldn’t be leaving,” Yeonjun seethed. He knew that he sounded hopeless and whiny, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when he was hurting.

Taehyun flinched at his words; Yeonjun didn’t take them back. He trusted that Taehyun knew the depth of his distress and why this was so difficult for him.

It was a sorrow so deep that Yeonjun couldn’t bring himself to hug Taehyun back as the latter mumbled his goodbyes.

At his own death, Yeonjun will think of that moment. It will be his one regret.

Taehyun boarded the night bus that would shuttle him to Seoul National Hospital. Contrary to Yeonjun’s belief, Taehyun was oblivious to Yeonjun’s pain of mourning someone who was still alive.

The younger boy sat with his heavy heart, wondering if he was making the smart— no, the right— choice.

The bus pulled away from the stop and Taehyun glanced at Yeonjun through the window’s reflection. Slumped in defeat, his friend remained motionless before standing. Taehyun expected Yeonjun to head back to his dorm.

But then Yeonjun hit the ground running.

He darted down the sidewalk, following the bus’s route. Taehyun sat up. Palm against the window, he watched Yeonjun sprint past pedestrians and haphazardly slide down the pavement.

“That boy’s crazy,” the bus driver commented offhandedly.

It was a scene straight out of a television drama, and it made Taehyun laugh in spite of himself. Thankfully, Yeonjun’s chase was cut short as the bus stopped at a red light. To Taehyun’s absolute horror, the older boy started banging his fists against the bus’s sliding doors.

“Hey, stop that!” the bus driver yelled. “I’ll call the police on you, you psycho!”

Yeonjun kept knocking, demanding entry. “I just need one minute! Please, just give me one minute!”

“Get the fuck away from this bus right now, kid!”

Unnerved, Yeonjun took a step back and did a quick scan of the bus until his eyes met Taehyun’s.

Without missing a beat, the older boy hollered loud enough that Taehyun could hear his sincerity through the glass: “I forgive you, Kang Taehyun! I forgive you!”

The stoplight turned green and the bus quickly pulled away from the intersection, leaving Yeonjun standing dejected on the street. As the bus driver cursed him and the other commuters whispered among themselves, Taehyun buried his face in the crook of his elbow to hide his face.

He was stupidly relieved to finally be alone. Later, when they give him a room to pass away in, he will assure the attending nurse that he has made peace with his fate. But in the bus where there are nothing but strangers, where no one knows who Taehyun is, he allows himself the grace of fearing death.

And for the first time in a long time— for the last time in his young life— Kang Taehyun let himself cry.

As Yeonjun expected, the boys weren’t happy with the lie of Taehyun heading back home.

They weren’t angry. None of them could seem to be mad at the dying boy.

Hueningkai was upset, constantly ringing Taehyun’s cell; Yeonjun itched to tell him that it was futile. Soobin buried his head in his hands, the forgotten episode of Squid Game playing on in the background.

“The last thing I said to him was that I hated him for watching without me,” Beomgyu said. His empty gaze was trained towards the television. “I’m never going to be able to take that back.”

“I’m sure he knows you didn’t mean it,” Yeonjun said. He thought of his last image of Taehyun; hand to the window, jaw slack with shock. “This is what he wanted.”

Hueningkai collapsed onto the couch after his nth phone call went unanswered. No one could look at each other, so they quietly sat through the duration of the show’s episode.

The sounds of Soobin’s sniffles echoed in the small room, overlapping with Taehyun’s voicemail recording.

Hello, this is Kang Taehyun. I can’t answer your call right now. Leave a message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.

“He left letters,” Yeonjun announced as Squid Game ’s credits rolled. “They’re in his room.”

No one responded. It was as if Yeonjun hadn’t spoken at all.

“I’m going to go read mine. You can come with me if you want.”

Neither Beomgyu, Hueningkai, nor Soobin moved an inch.

Standing so suddenly that he knocked into the coffee table, Yeonjun let out a hiss before glancing at his remaining friends. They refused to meet his eyes. He wished he could do something for them, but he was honestly just as broken and betrayed.

“Suit yourself,” he said wretchedly, not meaning to have so much venom in his tone. He stalked into Taehyun’s room and made it a point to slam the door close behind him.

It took Yeonjun a moment to realize that Taehyun had prepared for this. Most of the room was bare, save for a few cardboard boxes in one corner.

When Yeonjun took a peek, he realized that Taehyun had packed away everything; his camera, his posters, his clothes. All that was left was his mattress, where four envelopes were neatly laid out in a row.

“You’re not actually going to read your letter.”

Yeonjun didn’t jump at the sudden intrusion. Beomgyu wasn’t asking a question, either; he was stating a fact.

“No, I’m not,” Yeonjun admitted, staring at the precise handwriting that lined the outside of the named letters. “Not yet.”

“Okay. Well, I will.”

To Yeonjun’s shock, Beomgyu stepped past him and snatched the paper that had his name. He ripped open the envelope and got to reading. Cautiously, Yeonjun watched Beomgyu.

Slowly, Beomgyu’s shoulders dropped. When he bent his head, Yeonjun realized what was happening.

Beomgyu’s sobs were quiet— unassuming and wounded. The grief washed over the two of them like waves. Yeonjun did not know how to keep his head above the water.

“He loved us, right?” Beomgyu asked suddenly, turning to face Yeonjun. “Even if he left. He loved us.”

“He did.”

“And he knows I never hated him. He had to have known that.”

“He did.”

With the back of his fist, Beomgyu forcefully wiped the tears out of his eyes. Yeonjun is struck by how young he looks; by how young they all are, to have to deal with all this.

“I should have been nicer to him,” Beomgyu said. He glanced down at the letter before shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Then maybe... “

“It wouldn’t have changed his mind,” Yeonjun said quietly. Then, because he didn’t know what else to say, he simply repeated himself from earlier that night: “This is what he wanted.”

Beomgyu didn’t point it out, anyway. He sighed heavily and shut his eyes, seemingly letting the worst of the news hit him. Yeonjun knew he ought to have done something then— maybe reached out and hugged the younger boy— but he was too lost in his own misery to realize that Beomgyu’s heartbreak ran deeper, if only because Taehyun’s affections for him were different. The letter gave away as much.

Like a switch that had been flipped, Beomgyu forced himself to speak in a lighter tone. “You’ve still got a few things on your bucket list, right? Why don’t we get them done?”

“I hardly think that a date is appropriate right no—”

“‘This is what he wanted,’” Beomgyu parroted, mimicking even Yeonjun’s intonation. “I’m sure Taehyun would hate to see you moping.”

Yeonjun shook his head, too tired to argue. “I haven’t matched with anyone on the app. And besides, I can’t imagine going out with a stranger who will have no idea what I’m going through.”

“Then go out with me.”

The shocked silence that followed stretched between the two of them, filling every corner of the room.

Yeonjun was taken back to the compliment he paid Beomgyu earlier that night. I’ve always loved how shameless you can be. The thin line between brashness and bravery blurred at that moment as Yeonjun gawked at Beomgyu, who refused to falter.

“I won’t ask why you seem sad or what your thoughts are on death,” Beomgyu insisted. “We’ll grab a coffee. Share a bingsu. And I’ll pretend not to know much about you so I can ask you what your blood type is, then I’ll lie that we’re compatible.”

“That’s a thing?” Yeonjun asked dumbly.

Beomgyu gave the older boy a watery smile. “Anything for a second date. But since we can only have one, I promise to cram in everything you’ve been missing out on. I’ll even fight for the bill.”

“Why?”

“Why would I fight for the bill?”

“No, no. Why are you— Why are you doing this?”

Beomgyu’s hesitation was fleeting. Yeonjun caught it nonetheless. If he had only been a little more observant, he might have noticed the blush tinging Beomgyu’s ear or the tremor in his twitching fingers.

“Because it’s on your bucket list,” Beomgyu said. “Taehyun finished his. You should get to clear yours, too.”

There was no way for Yeonjun to know if Beomgyu was lying. Taehyun had kept his bucket list mostly a secret, though he had assured Yeonjun at some point that it was ‘short and sweet’. It was likely that he had divulged in Beomgyu, and Yeonjun wasn’t in the business of doubting such a simple fact.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a little more to Beomgyu’s offer. Yeonjun reflected if the proposition would have still come up had their thrift shop conversation not happened.

But Beomgyu was never insincere, and Yeonjun wanted to give him a tender memory that only the two of them shared.

And so Yeonjun said yes. When Beomgyu tried his hardest not to smile too widely, the older boy forced himself to quiet the fluttering in his chest.

This was not part of the plan. Vaguely, he felt like he was making a mistake.

How could he be, though, he thought, as Beomgyu beamed and blabbered about where they should go?

How could such a good thing be wrong?

It happened like this.

The two agreed on a nearby breakfast cafe. Yeonjun had avoided counting down, but it was difficult to miss the fact that the sun had already risen. That meant he had only a few more hours before his 24 were up.

Yeonjun got to the cafe first because Beomgyu said he’d stop by somewhere with Hueningkai. Soobin was initially reluctant, finally letting them go and succumbing to the fact that he was emotionally spent. When Yeonjun left Taehyun’s dorm, Soobin was napping on the couch.

Yeonjun made it a point to tuck a blanket around him.

Bored out of his mind, Yeonjun was carving Taehyun’s initials into the wooden table when it happened.

And it happened so fast.

He heard Beomgyu calling his name. He looked up to see the younger boy holding a bouquet of tulips.

There was a sweet smile on his face and a spring in his step as he locked eyes with Yeonjun and skipped down the pedestrian lane. It touched Yeonjun, that Beomgyu had gone out of his way to buy him blue and purple tulips; his favorite flowers in his favorite color.

A grin was tugging at Yeonjun’s lips when the speeding car slammed mercilessly into Beomgyu’s frame.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re dying. Yeonjun had always wanted to know what his highlight reel would look like. He had never thought that you could imagine someone else’s life while they were dying.

Vision blurring with panic as he rushed to Beomgyu’s side, Yeonjun found himself flooded with flashbulb moments of Beomgyu.

The first time he’d lost a game to him. Their arguments over mint chocolate chip ice cream. Beomgyu coining the term ‘hiccup’ for the trip-ups on Yeonjun’s Good Days, after Hueningkai had accidentally cleaned out his hard drive while downloading anime.

This was the worst hiccup that could possibly happen, Yeonjun thought as he dropped to his knees.

Beomgyu looked dazed, lying motionless on the pavement. As Yeonjun scooped him up, the younger boy looked up at him with a bleary expression, seeming more confused than hurt.

“Hey,” Beomgyu croaked. “I think I got hit.”

“Hey,” Yeonjun responded, trying his best not to sound too hysterical lest he scare Beomgyu. “You’re fine, though. You’re fine.”

The driver of the car stepped out of his vehicle, looking horrified. One side of Yeonjun filled with a searing, murderous rage. He was about to stand and swing at the stranger until Beomgyu started coughing vigorously.

“Call a hospital! Now!” Yeonjun bellowed at the driver. His voice cracked with desperation. “He’s not supposed to die today. He’s not supposed to die!”

“Hyung—” Beomgyu tried to say, failing to finish his sentence as he spat up more blood.

Cradling Beomgyu’s head in his lap, Yeonjun clung onto his friend tightly. “I don’t understand,” he stuttered. “I don’t—I can’t—”

Beomgyu was mumbling something incoherent. Yeonjun leaned in closer, catching Beomgyu’s repeating words: “I’m sorry, hyung. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, idiot?” Yeonjun whimpered. “You can’t die. You’re not going to die. You haven’t been called yet, Beomgyu.”

It’s in that earth-shattering moment— as Beomgyu wasted his breath apologizing, struggling to keep his eyes open but trying his best to look straight at Yeonjun anyway— it’s then that it dawned on Yeonjun.

Beomgyu had known about Lotte World and Death-cast. Beomgyu had tried his best to squeeze into all of Taehyun and Yeonjun’s photos. And Beomgyu at the restaurant fronting had echoed the script Yeonjun heard in the studio’s locker room.

Don’t you want to live the rest of your life fully?

“You haven’t been called yet,” Yeonjun repeated. He knew he was in denial at this point, but this was the worst possible thing that could happen to him. “Come on. Tell me you haven’t been called.”

Instead of doing as he was asked, Beomgyu reached out to hold Yeonjun’s face.

The slightest movement seemed to take so much of his remaining energy, yet he persisted despite Yeonjun’s protests. Delicately, Beomgyu cupped Yeonjun’s cheek with one of his hands.

“I didn’t want anyone worrying over me,” he admitted softly. It broke Yeonjun, how uncharacteristically frail Beomgyu sounded. “I thought death would be a little easier on me.”

Yeonjun wailed, doubling over to bury his face in Beomgyu’s shoulder. The sharp smell of smoke and blood hit him hard. “Damn you, Beomgyu. We wasted all your time doing things that Taehyun wanted— that I wanted—”

Beomgyu laughed and winced immediately right after.

“All I ever wanted to do was to be with you four,” Beomgyu said, and Yeonjun started crying so hard that he was sure this would be the cause of his own death— the way the sobs wracked his frame, the pure fear that struck his heart.

Beomgyu’s voice was barely above a whisper as he went on. “I’m sorry you never got to go on your date, hyung,” he mumbled, gesturing weakly at the bouquet he had been carrying.

Save for a petal or two, the tulips had miraculously survived the impact. Red spots stained the kraft wrapping paper. “I like to think I would have been a good one,” Beomgyu breathed.

“You would have been the best,” Yeonjun said fiercely. Beomgyu smiled contentedly.

“I know you’re just saying that, but I’ll take it,” he responded. His eyes fluttered to a close and the pained expression on his face softened. For a heartbeat, Yeonjun was scared that he’d lost him.

Thankfully, Beomgyu exhaled sharply, his unfocused gaze trying to find Yeonjun’s own.

“Hey, don’t give up on me now,” Yeonjun begged. He closed his fingers around Beomgyu’s shoulder, pulling the younger boy closer to his chest.

They could both hear the distant sounds of an ambulance siren. “We’ve still got a lot to do. Hyuka and Soobin are still waiting for you.”

“Hyuka and Soobin…” Beomgyu repeated slowly. “Tell them I love them, won’t you?”

“Tell them yourself.”

“I’m sorry I can’t buy them more clothes.”

“Don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.”

“And I’m sorry to be leaving you, hyung.”

Yeonjun let out a broken sob. “You’re not leaving me. You can’t,” he said. “Stop apologizing, because we’re going to get you to a hospital and patch you up, and we’re going to go on the best date, and you’re going to live many happy years—”

“Do you want to hear something selfish?” Beomgyu interrupted. The ambulance was rounding the corner. “This whole time, I prayed to go before you.”

“Why?” Yeonjun asked wretchedly.

The ambulance parked and the driver ran to meet them. “I can’t imagine a world without you, Choi Yeonjun,” Beomgyu said with bated breath. Yeonjun wondered why he’d never noticed it before; the devotion in Beomgyu’s tone, the star-like shine in his eyes. “And I’m glad that I won’t have to.”

As the paramedics rolled out a stretcher— as Yeonjun kept insisting that he could still be saved— Beomgyu thought nothing of the blinding hurt ripping through his body. He closed his eyes, finding comfort in the fact that he was in the arms of someone he loved. Not everyone could say they were half as lucky, he decided.

Throughout the night, he was curious what his last words would be; if he would have a choice at all. He had wanted it to be something cool, something awesome. But as he clung to Yeonjun, he knew that there was only one last thing to say.

Grinning, he wiped away some tears from Yeonjun’s panicked expression.

The paramedics were already swooping in and grabbing his ruptured body away from Yeonjun, but the older boy was still hanging on to him as if his own life depended on it. Beomgyu tried to commit the scene to memory.

Yeonjun, with his wild expression and tousled hair; his lips quivering, his eyes full of fear. It pained Beomgyu to leave him like this. Greedily, it relieved him that he would be the one going first.

“Take all the time you need,” Beomgyu assured, giving Yeonjun’s hand a final squeeze.

Beomgyu managed the ghost of a smile. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, yeah?” he said.

Then he shut his eyes— and nothing much was left after that.

It turned out that Choi Beomgyu did get to choose his last words after all.

Yeonjun was the one who made the calls. He let Beomgyu’s parents know, then his brothers.

He called Soobin, who didn’t answer; he called Hueningkai, who picked up on the first ring.

Hueningkai and Soobin made it to the hospital within ten minutes of the call ending.

Disoriented, they all listened to a doctor rattle on about comas and chances. “This means he’ll get better, right?” Hueningkai asked no one in particular once the discussion was over. “He hasn’t been called, so he’ll wake up soon enough.”

The two older boys shared a look. Yeonjun shook his head, and Soobin squeezed his eyes shut. Hueningkai watched the brief interaction unfold, stumped by what he was missing out on.

“Beomgyu didn’t get called by Death-cast,” Hueningkai repeated louder, as if his first statement was simply too quiet to be true. “He’s going to wake up from his coma.”

At a loss for words, Yeonjun reached out to hug Hueningkai. Soobin followed in suit. The youngest tried to squirm of their grip, not wanting to accept the implications of their remorse. “Let go of me. Don’t act like— don’t make me think that he— you’re both being—”

Eventually, Hueningkai stopped fighting.

For a moment, he stayed completely still as Soobin and Yeonjun held on to him. The trio stood there in the middle of the hospital hallway, huddled together while bawling over a betrayal that only they could share.

For Yeonjun, it felt like the world was closing in on him. He was spared by the harsh comfort of Hueningkai and Soobin feeling the same emptying loss.

After what felt like an eternity, they stumbled over to one of the waiting room benches so they could regain some strength.

“Did you know?” Soobin asked, voice hollow.

Yeonjun shook his head. His throat felt raw from all the crying. He couldn’t imagine speaking without wavering.

Instead, he turned to Hueningkai, who was staring at a photograph. It was his latest Instagram post from an hour or so ago— a shot of the flower shop he and Beomgyu had visited. The bouquet Beomgyu had bought lay a few seats away from the trio.

“You should make a post here, too,” Yeonjun said suddenly. Hueningkai looked up at him skeptically. He had a right to be dubious; updating one’s Instagram didn’t seem like it ought to be a priority.

But Yeonjun wanted to honor Beomgyu somehow, wanted to immortalize him somewhere.

“You have to remember,” Yeonjun insisted. “Even the bad things.”

The rest of the sentence lingered between the two of them. Because soon enough, I won’t be around to remember any of it.

“Even the bad things,” Hueningkai repeated.

He took a picture of the hallway. As he typed a caption with shaky fingers, Yeonjun rested his head on his shoulder, and Soobin held Yeonjun’s hand.

They drew from each other what little strength they could share.

They had no other choice.

Heading back to Taehyun’s dorm was too painful, so they made for Soobin and Yeonjun’s apartment.

They tried to fall into some sense of normalcy by playing a round of a computer game and putting on some bad Netflix film, but it was difficult to will away their loss and pretend that they weren’t waiting to lose a little bit more.

So they talked about Taehyun until there were no more stories to share.

They shared their favorite memories of Beomgyu, laughing so hard at some of the anecdotes that by the end of it, Yeonjun’s sides were in stitches.

They took photos for Hueningkai’s Instagram. They gave Yeonjun time to write his ‘will’.

Hueningkai asked him if he was scared of dying.

Yeonjun lied and said he wasn’t.

Soobin asked if he was lying.

Yeonjun let his silence speak for him.

At one point, Yeonjun glanced at the clock, did the math, and realized he had survived 22 hours. Was it possible to cheat Death-cast? Yeonjun wondered, foolishly amused.

He didn’t have the energy to dwell on the thought. He didn’t have any energy at all, really.

He was so drained that he didn’t even remember dozing off while snuggling with Soobin. He jolted only at the sound of Hueningkai’s loud snore.

The couch was cramped, so Yeonjun dragged himself to his bed. Half-awake, he typed out a text to his parents that meant to let them know that he was okay and that he’d call them after he napped. He was too tired to even know if he hit send. The moment his head hit the pillow, he fell right back to sleep.

He was dreaming of tulips and brown-eyed boys when the cardiac arrest happened.

Choi Yeonjun could not cheat death after all.

Hueningkai found it nearly impossible to live in the aftermath.

It was made particularly difficult by how much the city reminded him of the past. Like how the dance studio had renamed to YJ Entertainment, honoring their star student by using the script on his final note as their logo. Like how the breakfast cafe never threw out the table with Taehyun's carved initials. Hueningkai once sat at it, only to be dragged under at the sight of KT etched into one corner.

Soobin was an immense pillar of support. The two remaining boys clung to each other in the first few years, doing everything they could to work around their complex emotions.

Eventually, they realized that the grief would never really go away. All they could do was grow around it.

Their frequent meetings trickled down to weekly occurrences until they decided to stick to first Fridays— it lasted a few months, but it brought the both of them too much pain. They decided not to force it. They went their separate ways and learned how to live with the mourning.

And they did, really. Hueningkai kept up with Soobin through social media. They never lost touch. They just took some time to heal separately.

It had been a while since they last saw each other. Their last conversation was about how Yeonjun's dance break trended, and how Hueningkai's father was encouraging them to copyright the song.

The posthumous success that Taehyun joked about, Soobin had said laughingly. Hueningkai found some comfort in the fact that he was not the only one left remembering.

He never went back to the restaurant they last ate at, though it was hard for him to miss out on the snowball Beomgyu and Yeonjun had unintentionally started.

Unbeknownst to Hueningkai, the two had left a doodle that night; he would only see it spreading on social media a few months later, after the restaurant recognized a tradition that was happening to its patrons.

"This is pretty cool, isn't it?"

Hueningkai nodded, staring at the scrawled last words scaling up the restaurant wall. Soobin stood at his side, the two having agreed to meet-up for lunch.

Beomgyu and Yeonjun's little act of vandalism inspired a chain reaction of some sort. Now, those who were called by Death-cast could visit the restaurant for their final meal and, on their way out, leave a small part of themselves behind on the storefront.

"I think Beomgyu would be happy to see this," Hueningkai chuckled. "He'd be excited to be so famous."

"Yeah, he really would."

The two made their way into the restaurant, making small talk and catching each other up as they waited for the waitress to stop by their booth. When she finally stopped by, Soobin looked up directly at Hueningkai as he spoke.

"I heard the food here is to die for," Soobin said casually.

Hueningkai stared back, momentarily thrown off.

And then he smiled— finding peace in the fact that he and Soobin could share one last thing.

hueningkai's instagram account: @hyukatheloser.

#txt angst #txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt ff #txt imagines #txt oneshots #yeonjun angst #beomgyu angst #taehyun angst #beomjun #taegyu #yeonjun imagines #➤ ylangelegy: mine #➤ ylangelegy: txt #( revisiting this for archiving purposes was Harrowing. ngl )

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platinumrosetail · 3 months ago

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Sure, though I won’t be doing maki as I don’t like doing females as I’m only attracted to males so it’ll just be the males from your request 😅. also it's been a while since i last seen jjk so some things might be wrong and i haven't watched the movie and new seasons (procrastination at it's finest! lol). the teens will be aged up.

Characters: gojo, megumi, yuta.

Warning: noob author, gender neutral reader, yandere characters, and others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gojo:

You’re a teacher at jujutsu high, though you don’t use curse energy and technique you still teach them things that they could need when fighting curses and any bystanders.

when gojo met you he wasn't anticipating a normal human that doesn't use curse energy and with your personality he grew overprotective of you as you just so soft and he just felt like you need a protector, so here he is!

he flirts with every chance he gets, annoying others as they think you're too good for him but he doesn't care about their opinion and continue to flirt and make you flustered.

he would try to get you to quit your job at jujutsu high in subtle ways as he thinks you shouldn't be in a dangerous place like this and should be home; specifically his home where he can protect you and love you.

he easily manipulates you into a relationship both cause he loves you and so that he can keep you closer than before when you two weren't in a relationship.

the kids love you and think of you as a parent figure whether they have one or not which helps gojo when making excuses so that he can spend time with you.

he doesn't mind sharing for now but when he decides you should be brought to both of your home permanently so that he could keep you safe from the dangers of being associated with the jujutsu school.

megumi:

when he met you he was not expecting someone that didn't have a ounce of curse energy working at jujutsu high as a teacher.

he grew overprotective of you as he get's to know you as time passes. you always help him after his missions by patching him up if he were to get injured by some curses.

he sometimes get injured on purpose just so you could care for him even if he could've easily exorcise the curse without getting hurt.

when he summons his curse dogs when he doesn't need to have them fight or track a curse it's usually because you like to see them which means more time spent with him even if you don't give affection to him specifically.

he makes sure to help you when he can whenever he's not on missions which is sadly for him a lot since gojo likes to give him his missions instead of doing it himself.

though gojo found out about his crush on you and decided to help and be his wingman even though megumi protested to him that he doesn't want gojo's help with this; which gojo doesn't seem to hear as he does help with megumi crush on you.

he plans on making sure you won't face the horrors of curse and to keep you safe after he takes you to both of your soon to be home, as he doesn't want you to be hurt or killed by curses or any enemy curse users.

yuta:

(i decided to do the yuta before he went to africa as that personality seems the easiest for me to do, sorry to anyone wanting his personality after he returns, i'll try to mesh it for this though!)

yuta met you soon after he joined jujutsu high, he was surprised when he come to find out that you hold no curse energy at all even though you worked at jujutsu high.

he was so timid when he first got to know you which you found adorable and teased him a tiny bit in a lighthearted manner which makes him flustered

he always helps when he can whenever he isn't training before he starts going on missions and such.

after he starts going on missions he buys you souvenirs, he says it's out of appreciation but really it's to secretly court you and get you to like him more.

gojo sees his efforts and gives his thoughts on how to woo you, which didn't help as they were all really bold and something he wouldn't do, so he got help from maki as she knew you longer and knew what you liked.

he confessed to you without realizing it in front of the others and you and when he did finally realize it was too late to backtrack and rephrase as you already heard it. you recuperated his feelings so you two became a couple.

even though he didn't want to he had to, after the fight between geto and him he soon went to africa to train so that he could protect you, he didn't want to part from you but knew he had to in order to get stronger. in the past he wasn't as possessive as he was when he got back from africa but considering what happened while he was gone he grew possessive and overprotective so expect to be taken to a secret house that he got just to make sure you won't get in trouble and get hurt.

(A/n: so hope y'all liked it! i hope i did alright on yuta's. i mostly relied on what i know from scene's i read or watched as well with the wiki so i tried my best with what i could Remember and had read from the wiki. anyway that's it so hope y'all have a wonderful day/evening/night!!)

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inevitably-johnlocked · 1 year ago

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I’m so sorry if this question is ignorant or stupid I really just want to understand so I can become educated. When someone is asexual would they still gain something from reading explicit fic scenes? Again sorry if I’m ignorant

Hey Nonny *HUGS*

SO SORRY it took so long to reply to this one... Kind of started and then it got forgotten, and I am sorry for that. No better time than Ace Awareness Week to help you understand!!

So, short answer to your question, is YES, SOME aces do, whether to facilitate in self-pleasure, or because seeing their faves happy, or as placeholders because some aces take pleasure-by-proxy, or a variety of other reasons, it just simply makes some of us happy. You'd be surprised how many of those smutty authors are actually ace themselves. It's one of those funny misconceptions that aces are all woobie-uwu-innocent-pure-thoughts-only magical creatures, and I'm here to shatter that illusion... Aces are some of the smuttiest-minded people you will ever meet. Why, I have no idea, maybe it's because we don't fantasize about sex the same way allos do that we can come up with increasingly hornier ideas? LOL No idea.

The thing about asexuality is that it's a HUGE spectrum, and no one ace is exactly the same. A sex-negative ace might get something out of reading smut because it's not involving them. Or they might not at all. Same with sex-positive/neutral aces. It's ALL a matter of what makes us tick.

BUT here's where I go into my LONG answer, and get you REALLY into the Ace Lore™.

I want to introduce you to the microlabel of Aegosexuality (formerly autochorisexuality), which is a term that loosely translates to "sexuality with oneself". The expanded definition, from the Sexuality Wiki, bolding is mine:

It is [...] a disconnect between oneself and a sexual target/object of arousal; may involve sexual fantasies or arousal in response to erotica or pornography, but lacks desire to be an actual participant in the sexual activities therein.

Aegosexuals are known to:

Become aroused by sexual content (at times) without wanting to personally engage in sexual activities.

Masturbate, but feel neutral or repulsed by the idea of having sex with another person.

Fantasize about sex (with varying frequency), but envision people other than themselves, and/or view it in third person, as if watching it on TV, instead of imagining it in the first person, through their own eyes.

Predominantly—or exclusively—fantasize about fictional characters or celebrities in place of people they know personally.

Identify as asexual, feeling little-to-no sexual attraction to people though enjoy masturbating (with varying frequency), are aroused by sexually explicit content, and/or fantasizing of such.

[/end quote]

====

Basically, smut turns them on, but some aces don't want to engage in the smut for-reals. This microlabel makes it ESPECIALLY confusing for newly-figured-out-aces because there hasn't been a lot of information about asexuality's huge spectrum until recently. Aegosexuals can initially believe that they AREN'T ace, BECAUSE they get turned on by porn or smutty stories, but then they're SUPER confused because the idea of having sex themselves is appalling or undesirable. It's a bizarre contradiction, understandably, to outsiders, but it makes COMPLETE sense once an ace figures this out, I promise you.

This is the microlabel I myself fall under. It's not from any trauma or past problems or medical issues. It's just me. That's it. And because of the confusion that this sexuality can bring, it often takes us a LOT longer to have ourselves figured out. For me, it was an accidental stumbling upon the "autochorisexual" label (before it became Aegosexual) and reading up on it that EVERYTHING fell into place. Before that, I thought I was maybe demisexual. After learning about it, I felt okay FINALLY calling myself ace, that I finally found the "right fit" for me. It was the piece of the puzzle that I was missing. I felt really liberated of my self-doubt after that.

And, of course, aros have their version as well called Aegoromantic, which is exactly the same but in a romantic sense.

Here are some more resources for Aegosexuality, if you'd like to learn more about this lesser-known branch on the spectrum:

What Does It Mean to Be Aegosexual? (Cosmopolitan US || November 24, 2022)

WHAT IS AEGOSEXUAL? MEANING, HISTORY, AND USAGE. (Gayety.co ||July 11, 2022)

History of Aegosexuality (The Michigan Gayly || February 1, 2021)

EVERYTHING YOU NEED TOO KNOW ABOUT AEGOSEXUALITY (Live Love LGBTQ+ Blog || October 27, 2017)

VIDEO: 5 Signs You Might Be Aegosexual (Lynn Saga, YouTube || August 6, 2022 || 6m20s)

VIDEO: What is Aegosexuality? | Aspec 101 (Slice Of Ace, YouTube || July 15, 2022 || 3m54s)

VIDEO: Asexual Identities: Aegosexuality (Ace Dad Advice, YouTube || May 22, 2022 || 12m27s)

====

AGAIN, I'm SO sorry I put this ask off for SO long, but I'm glad that I did, so that I could educate you guys on my brand of Asexuality during Ace Awareness Week!

And, finally, no offence taken at ALL! I LOVE educating y'all about stuff I learned through my journey, and you were very respectful in your ask :)

Hope you are well, Nonny, and hope you're still here to see this 🖤💜

#steph replies #asexuality #asexual awareness week #aegosexuality #ace week #my ramblings #links checked 2023-10-26 #lgbt resources #lgbtqia #about me

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tillthelandslide · 9 months ago

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Insufferable Arsehole Part 16: Marry Me

A/n: I’m definitely not crying…. Sorry in advance for the sappy note: This series has been a whirlwind to write and I honestly went through it with this one. I hated it and loved it in equal measure (that’s on me though because I'm self-critical lol) but I'm truly sad it's over. I owe so much to this series, it was the first proper work I had published within this fandom, it brought me so many of you wonderful people. The main thing I want to say is thank you to every single person who read it, whether you’ve read one chapter or 16, THANK YOU!!! I just want to say that although the main series is over I am truly happy to continue writing little bits for these characters so if you have anything you want to see please let me know 🥹 I love you guys - Lou

Precious Part

Series Masterlist

The rest of the tour rolls by quicker than any of them expected. Matty and Lou spend every waking moment with each other and with their boys. The group laugh and drink and play the music they love and they're completely content. Their days are filled with the friends that were family now and their nights are filled with just them, their bodies and souls intertwined, their love being confessed and shown in every possible way they know how.

Each show seems better than the last and each of them are unsure whether it's because their love was always adapting and growing or whether it was because time was running out and they were hell bent on not letting it get taken for granted. They secretly thought it was a mix of both.

Lou and George would spend as much time together as they could, sometimes accompanied by Matty, usually wedged between them, sometimes resting across their laps (squashing them) or at their feet, the three of them laughing about things only they seemed to understand.

Lou and Ross would spend their time with Matty or sometimes with Mia when she was able to join them. Matty enjoyed watching the way they laughed together and felt privileged to hear them tell stories or spill secrets and confessions.

Adam and Carly would spend their time with the couple showing them ultrasounds or clothes they had bought for the little man. They'd talk about what they liked to call 'grown up things' and Matty would tell them the things he was going to teach the little man.

Then there were the times they were all together, one big happy family, a huge loving and supportive system that knew they would die for each other. Each time they’d laugh, each time they’d smile so wide their faces would hurt, each time they’d hug and talk and cry together, would make them realise how lucky they were to have each other.

Matty loved the moments before the shows, he'd spend hours watching her write in her notebook. He was in awe every time she sang and he knew he'd spend every day of his life proving his love for her.

Eventually the end of the tour rolled round and the last show was performed: a teary and emotional one, filled with one too many hugs and kisses. It was a show like no other and each of them was hesitant to leave the stage, knowing that would be the end : at least for now.

The party Jamie had thrown for them was huge, everyone and anyone they knew was invited, not that they spent much time with anyone else but each other. Matty and Lou disappeared to the toilets at one point when Charli and George had taken over the decks. Luckily no one could hear them over the loud music, but god did were they loud.

Adam and Carly's son was born three days later, the group crowding around the hospital room, taking turns in holding the little man. Carly asked to see Lou and Matty separately an hour or two after the birth. She simply placed the baby in Matty's arms, the baby boy wrapping his finger around Lou's pinky as her boyfriend held him, his barely opened eyes trained on her instead of the little man.

Carly felt emotional as she looked at them, smiling happily as her husband held her close to him. They had both come so far since the start and witnessing their journey was beautiful.

"I love you" Matty said, making her eyes snap away from the baby holding onto her finger. Something about the way he said it was different from all the other times, she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was exactly, but she felt it in every fibre of her being. She knew if the whole world changed tomorrow, she'd be certain Matty would be there, unchanged and forever loving her fiercely.

"I love you too" she says, tears filling her eyes. The rest of the group come back into the room now, suspiciously standing in a semicircle around them.

"I want this" he says, looking down at the child in his hands "I want all of this with you" he says, his own eyes filling with tears now. Adam moves to take his son, knowing what was coming, having spoken to Matty with his wife about this exact moment.

Lou gasps as Matty drops to one knee, his hand dipping into his pocket before pulling out a velvet box.

"I know we haven't had the easiest ride... I know I was an absolute Arsehole for most of it... And I can't promise I won't be that.. at least sometimes" he says making her chuckle through her teary eyes and choked throat.

"But I can promise that I have loved you, more than I have ever loved anything or anyone, for as long as I have known you and I can promise I will continue to do that until the day I die" he says, his voice breaking slightly, tears flooding his cheeks. Her knees buckle, taking her to him, holding his face in his cheeks.

"I have had this ring... Since Rome. I just knew, I knew even before you were mine that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you... I know this has happened quickly and it's been intense... But it's also been fucking incredible... The best thing that has ever happened to me and I know... I know in my soul that you are my person" he says, making tears fall even quicker from her face.

"You make me a better man. Lou...My love... I love you so much... Will you marry me?" He asks as he opens the velvet box in his hands, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.

"Yes Matty. Of course I will" she says, pressing her mouth to his before pulling back, allowing him to place the ring on her finger before their lips find each other again.

"I love you so much" she says against his mouth. The couple stand then and are swarmed with hugs from their friends.

George pulls her into a tight hug, lifting her from the ground and she notices he's been crying too.

"I'm so fucking happy for you... Marrying my best friend... The best man I know" George says as he pulls back from her, Lou nods at him.

"I'm so glad you were here for this g" she says, pulling him back into her embrace. George is then moving to Matty, the two guys crying into each other as Ross comes to hug Lou.

"You got the happy ending you deserve" Ross says, making her smile. The group comes together then, joining in a big group hug.

"sorry we took your moment away from you guys" Lou says, her words directed at Carly and Adam.

"It's alright... Matty asked us and we couldn't say no, it's you" Carly says, making her smile widely.

"Besides, Matty never lets me have my moment" Adam says jokingly, making everyone laugh.

She looks around her empty flat, one box left, her entire life up to this point tucked away in boxes, currently being loaded into a van by her best friends. She hears distant laughter, George’s cackle, Ross’ chesty machine gun laugh, Hann’s gentle chuckle and Matty’s childish giggle. Her eyes water as she looks around the space, feeling someone rest their chin on her shoulder as their arms wrap around her frame.

“You okay?” she hears Charli ask and she lets out a brief “mhmm”.

“A lot to take in, I know” Charli says, pulling away from her friend and allowing her to turn. Matty listens in from the doorway, leaning against the wall. “Having second thoughts?” Charli asks, trying to sense her friend's mood. Lou shakes her head and smiles.

“About Matty? Never” that makes him smile widely, his stomach filling with butterflies.

“It’s hard moving out of your home” Charli says and Lou turns to look around the room again. She shakes her head and smiles widely.

“This isn’t my home… not really” Charli is confused but then Lou is turning to her again and hugging her tightly. She pulls away after a beat.

“Matty is my home… you guys are my home. As long as I’ve got you and him… I'm good” Matty wants to rush in and hug her tightly and kiss her like it was the last chance he’d get but he doesn’t want to disturb her, or admit he was eavesdropping.

Charli nods, she gets it. She places a kiss to her cheek “I’ll leave you to it” she then leaves, passing Matty on the way out.

“You’re so lucky Matty… to have someone love you like she does” Charli says, wiping a tear from her cheek and pressing a kiss to Matty’s cheek.

“I know… believe me i know” he walks into her apartment, finding her and wrapping his arms around her.

“Ready to go?” he asks, looking down at her. His heart falters when she smiles up at him, leaning on her tiptoes to press a haste kiss to his lips.

“Ready to spend the rest of my life with you?” she asks, watching the way a huge smile breaks out across his lips “never been more ready”.

George stands at the centre table, to the right of Matty, he's holding a champagne flute in one hand and a microphone in the other, his eyes hold tears in the corners and he has a lump in his throat as he begins to speak.

"I have always known that Lou is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. She is an incredible friend, someone who will love you in the exact way you need, someone who will love you so hard that your broken parts start to heal. She is my best friend and for years I waited until she met someone who loved her the way she deserved..." George says, his voice cracking several times as she spoke, Lou stared at him, Matty squeezing her hand as tears ran down her cheeks.

"Never did I expect it to be Matty" George says, making everyone, including the married couple, laugh.

"Matty is also my best friend, my partner, my bandmate and my brother... I truly believe it when I say that he's the best guy I know" he says, making Matty cry a little.

"But he wasn't always that way with Lou... I won't go into that too much because the past is the past... Although I will still end you if you so much as hurt her" he says jokingly making everyone laugh again.

"Matty loves Lou exactly the way she deserves and Lou makes Matty better. They are perfect for each other and I am so unbelievably happy and proud to witness their love... Because it's fucking beautiful. Congratulations to my best friends... I would make a joke about the sex going down hill from here but... I've heard you in hotels and on the tour buses so I very much doubt that's going to happen" he says, everyone laughs as Lou blushes, hiding her face in her hands. Matty pries them away with a kiss to her cheek, making everyone awe.

Everyone cheers and then Matty and Lou hug George tightly.

"I love you" they both say to him.

Mia then stands to do her speech, looking around the room before she speaks "I'm really shit at these things so... Sorry in advance" everyone laughs again.

"Lou is the best sister I could ever ask for and I'm probably biased when I say this but she is far too good for this world and the people in it... Sorry Matty" he just nods along, agreeing.

"But from the moment I met you Matty, I knew you were her person. I had never seen her the way she is with you, you make her so happy and I will always thank you for that. I wish you both the absolute best, Lou, I love you and I am so proud to call you my sister... And we are so happy" she says, gesturing to their family "to be welcoming Matty in to our family, he is the best thing that has ever happened to you. And you him cheers" everyone cheers then and Matty and Lou share a sweet kiss.

Matty then stands, still holding onto Lou's hand. He shakes his head as he looks down at her, bringing his hand up to his mouth and kissing the back of it. He then looks at everyone else, raising his glass up to them.

"God... I just want to start by saying thank you" he says, gesturing to those who have made speeches.

"And thank you to all of you for coming... For sharing this beautiful day with us" he sighs then "okay this is the part where I get really fucking emotional and make a fool of myself and make my wife question the fact she's just married me" he says making everyone laugh. Lou whispers a never to him and he smiles.

"Fuck... 'My wife' that's mental. She's my wife" he points at her, she smiles widely at him. She watches as his eyes water and the way he briefly tucks his lips into his mouth, fighting back the tears.

"You look so beautiful. You always look so fucking beautiful but my god" he says, everyone smiling as she fawns over her.

"I am truly the luckiest man alive... I'm going to try to keep this short and sweet before I start weeping. Lou you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I know I will thank whatever force allowed you to be mine, I will count my lucky stars everyday because you are mine. I don't know what the future holds... But I know as long as I have you, I'll be okay" he says making her smile, he leans down to kiss her gently before he continues.

"I love you so much" he says.

"I love you too"

It's then her time to stand.

"I'm not even going to try one up you on that" she says.

"I have written so many speeches, thrown them away and then rewritten them... I wrote about how we once hated each other but that story didn't quite do us justice... Because we are so much more than that... I then wrote all the things I love about you, but it was too long and I knew I'd get too emotional... And then I started wracking my brain on what I could say" she says looking down at him.

"I knew I wanted to tell you how much I love you but I could’t find the words to truly encapsulate what that's like. And I thought... Why say something... When you can sing it? Now I know you have begged me every single day since we got engaged to sing at this wedding and everyday I said no... And that's because I had something else planned" she says, looking around at the band and smiling at them.

"I guess you could say this is our last show… without you of course" she says and they all stand up, making Matty gasp as they make their way to the dancefloor that has been set up, microphones set up (ready for what Matty presumed would be the band they've hired). Ross stands go the left of her, Hann to the right, George behind her, Polly at the back next to George on the right and Jamie and John to the left.

"You and this band, are the best thing that has ever happened to me, you’re my family and my home and I love you all so much.. but this is for you. I love you so much Matty" she then sings a cover of All I Need To Hear with the band playing their instruments. It brings tears to his eyes and he shakes his head as she smiles at him.

"Just tell me you love me, that's all that I need to hear" she sings and he mouths an I love you to her.

They finish up the song and Lou begins speaking again.

"Okay... That was just a warm up" she says, making everyone laugh. The boys hug her and she thanks them before they leave. Jamie hands her an acoustic guitar, his guitar, one in which he had gifted to her at the end of the tour and Matty thinks he's going to sob, seeing her dressed in her beautiful white wedding dress, holding his guitar in her arms.

"I... I wrote this song, for you" she says, "I didn't release it because it's yours... only yours" She says and he knows what she's about to sing.

"When I was younger I saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind. He broke his own heart and I watched, as he tried to reassemble it. And my mumma swore, that she would, never let herself forget, and that was the day that I promised, I'd never sing of love, if it does not exist, but darling, you, are, the only exception' she sings.

She finishes the song, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she passes the guitar back to Jamie. Matty joins her then, gripping her tightly in his arms as he presses his lips to hers “I love you so much, my wife” he says against her mouth, the couple laugh as everyone around them cheer. Both of them throw up their middle fingers to the boys when they begin to make inappropriate comments. They all laugh and cry as they watch them.

They sit at the steps outside their venue. Their friends and family are dancing inside, drinking and laughing, celebrating their love.

Matty’s hand is resting on her thigh, over the fabric of her white dress. Her hand is playing with a few stray curls that had fallen in front of his face, whilst her other hand rests under her chin. Her hand only moves from his hair when he passes her his cigarette, watching her as she takes a few puffs before handing it back to him.

“You're so beautiful” he murmurs “my wife” a huge smile breaks out over her features, eyes crinkling and teeth baring. Her eyes flick from his eyes which have been brimming with happy tears the entire night, down to his lips which are spread wide too.

“I love you, my husband” they hear the door creak behind them, revealing their group of closest friends.

“Sorry we're not interrupting are we” Carly says kindly.

“You'd be able to hear them a mile off if we were interrupting’ comes from George, making everyone laugh. His arm is wrapped around Charli who looks up at him fondly as he speaks. They'll be next, she thinks.

“You know you guys are always welcome” Lou says, making the group walk down the steps to join them.

“But maybe call before you spontaneously pop round to ours” Matty says, wiggling his eyebrows at the group, receiving a quick light smack from Lou, which makes everyone laugh.

They fill out the steps pretty quickly. Charli and George perch on a ledge near them, Mia and Ross sit a few steps down, turning around to look at them, Lou smiles widely at their intertwined hands.

Carly and Hann are nuzzled together a step down to the right of them.

“Where's the little man?” Matty asks, making Hann look up.

“Your mum's looking after him” makes him smile.

John, Jamie, Gabi and Polly are scattered here and there. They sit in silence for a few moments, sharing a few cigarettes, all with huge smiles on their faces. They watch as the sky continues to get darker and as stars begin to appear.

Matty pulls her closer, pressing a kiss to her cheek before mumbling in her ear.

“I love you” she turns to kiss him, only pulling away when she hears Ross speak.

“What now?” He asks and everyone chuckles.

“What do you mean , what now?” George says, laughing loudly.

“I mean what happens now… Hann and Carly are married and have just had a kid… Lou and Matty are now married and will probably be popping out babies in no time” his words make Lou blush and Matty smear his lips to her cheek.

“You bet” he murmurs into her ear before he delivers his next line to the group “we'll be practising for a bit mate don't you worry about that” it causes another chorus of laughs to break out.

“You guys will probably be married next” Ross says pointing to Charli and George.

“And then we'll all be busy and be less inclined to see each other… what happens then?”

“Don't be daft mate… the bands not broken up. We're just having a little break. You know Matty can't go that long without making music anyway and who's he going to get to help him if it's not us?” George says, Ross shrugs at that, nodding his head slowly in agreement once he realises George is right.

“Besides… we're a family” Polly says, everyone looks around at each other then, smiling at one another.

“We're a family” Matty confirms, eyes trained on his wife who's looking back at him just as intently.

The group slowly begins to filter out, leaving the newlyweds alone on the steps.

“What now?” Lou repeats Ross’ words from earlier, feeling the sentiment behind them. Everything up to this point seemed so perfectly planned as if it was scripted. Their own little novel, a story of two people who hated each other, discovering that they in fact didn't hate each other at all. A story of two people, finally loving and being loved by the one person who they were supposed to be loved by.

Now everything was out in the open, Lou didn't know what would happen next and the thought was both exciting and terrifying.

“We go on our honeymoon, have a ton of sex” Lou laughs and nudges Matty's shoulder with her own “we eat amazing food and drink loads of alcohol and we love each other every day we're there” she smiles, Matty places a hand against her cheek and she leans into it.

“And we come home, and maybe the band will write some songs and eventually do another tour and maybe you'll do the same with your band, but we'll stick together through all of it, through thick and thin… we'll love”

“And then what?” She asks, he chuckles and places his lips against hers, they laugh as they kiss.

“And then we have the rest of our lives, we don't need to plan it, as long as we've got each other” she nods at that.

“Yeah, as long as we've got each other…”

“Here's to the rest of our lives baby” he says, smearing his lips against hers. He pulls back slightly and she watches as a smirk comes to rest against his lips.

“Now how about we get you home, so I can get you out of this dress?” She giggles at his words as she pulls him in for another kiss.

“Lead the way Mr Healy” Matty stands, reaching down to her. Lou intertwines their hands and allows him to pull her up to him. She collides with him, her lips merging with his again.

“Come home with me, Mrs Healy” he murmurs against her mouth, twisting his tongue against hers, making her sigh.

“I love you” she pulls back slightly, one hand sweeping the curls that had fallen loose from his hair back.

“Your insufferable arsehole” he says, smiling down at her.

“My insufferable arsehole”

“Always”

“For the rest of our lives”

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @promocodesorry75 @eaglestar31 @thefrontofmymind @fallingforel @partoftheairforce @procrastinatinglikeapro @poisonmedaddy13 @xthe1975 @all-things-fic @jstbeeingme @rossgirly @juliardk @you-muppet @moodyyyychickx @k4tie75 @insidemymind19 @zzzhealy @maybeiwouldlikeyou @at-her-very-foreign @not-alien-girl-v @sinarainbows @friedlandblog @momentum2023 @youlooklikeshitandyousmellabit @inhalerbea (add yourself using the link in my bio 😊, those with a line through are the ones i couldn’t tag)

#insufferable arsehole Matty healy series #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #matty healy fanfic #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy x reader #insufferable arsehole matty healy series #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x oc #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy imagine #matty healy smut #the 1975 smut #the 1975 x oc

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youunravelme · 2 years ago

Text

drops of jupiter pt. 2

author’s note: lol i accidentally posted the beginning of this part in part one, so if you saw that, no you didn’t. again, this is not a super light read, deals heavily with depression, though it’s never explicitly stated. think liability by lorde/this is me trying by taylor swift. also i’m sorry for the amount of shrugging and sighing in this fic and the first part. every character is in a constant state of idk.

warnings: cursing, drinking/getting drunk, depression

summary: being friends with your ex wasn’t the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, breaking up with him took that slot.

prompts: “I thought I was going to lose you.” / “i just need you.” / “what the hell were you thinking? / “i don’t know who you think i am but i’m not leaving.” / “feel my fucking heartbeat right now and tell me i don’t love you.”

then

“we need to get up,” jack mumbled into your neck, his arm strewn over your waist.

“why?” you asked. “we’re on vacation.”

“vacation with my family. i wouldn’t put it past my brothers to harass us any minute now.”

you hummed and snuggled further into your pillow.

a bang pounded on the door that had you both flinching. you clutched the comforter to your chest even though you were both fully clothed.

“jack get up! we’re going to work out.” you heard quinn’s voice on the other side of the door, and if you listened closely, you could hear luke snickering.

“we’re on vacation!” you called back. “come back at a reasonable hour.”

“7 is reasonable!” quinn replied.

"in what world?” you groaned. but jack got up anyway, tossing on a clean shirt and a pair of joggers. “wait, where are you going?”

jack walked over and kissed your forehead. “go back to sleep, i’ll see you later.”

you watched him walk out before shutting your eyes and succumbing to sleep once more. when you woke up next, you went downstairs and were met with ellen standing at the kitchen island eating toast and eggs.

“you’re awake!” ellen greeted. “want some breakfast?”

you nodded and took a seat at the island. “but i can make it--”

“absolutely not. you’re a guest here, and guests don’t make breakfast for themselves.” she turned around and started cracking eggs into a pan before tossing some toast in the toaster. she seasoned the eggs and let them cook before turning back around to you. “did you sleep well?” she asked. you were fully expecting a teasing tone since you did sleep in the same bed as her son, but she was being genuine.

“slept fine,” you said.

“i bet,” ellen started. “all of you were very busy yesterday.”

and she wasn’t wrong. you spent most of the day on the lake, whether that was sunbathing on the boat or wake boarding. by the time the sun set, you were exhausted.

you glanced around the downstairs. “they still aren’t back yet?”

ellen tossed her head back and laughed. “sweetheart, it’s only been an hour since they’ve left. if anything, they’re probably headed to the ice rink by now.”

“but it’s summer, the rink should be melted?”

ellen grinned at you knowingly. “there’s a public indoor ice rink just ten minutes away. they probably went there after working out at the gym.”

“did jim go with?” ellen nodded. “so it’s just us?”

“just us.” she turned back around to plate your toast and eggs before she placed the plate in front of you. “how have you been? how’s school?”

you shrugged. “it’s been alright. nothing to write home about.”

“jack said you seem to be enjoying it.”

“it’s a step to getting where i want to be.”

“that’s what life’s about, hon. taking it step after step.”

now

you stared at your phone for what felt like years. there was no way this was your life, no way that you deserved any of the kindness that’d been shown to you. there was no earthly explanation for why jack hughes was insisting on you attending one of his games against ahaheim.

“you need to be social,” was his explanation. “besides, the boys missed you.”

quinn was in town for his game happening the next night, trevor was playing against jack and nico that night, and the plan was to go to dinner afterwards.

you were nervous to see quinn again, this being the first time you saw him since the break up. you weren’t sure how his family took it since you made a point not to text or call regardless of how much you missed them. it just wouldn’t be fair to jack.

but he met you outside the arena with a small hug and smile. “it’s been awhile, how have you been?”

you really wished people would stop asking you that.

you shrugged. “nothing much has been going on. how’ve you been? i haven’t kept up with hockey much lately.” truth be told, you didn’t want the reminder and couldn’t bear to keep using jack’s logins. you wondered if your account was still on his netflix.

quinn shrugged as well and nodded his head toward the arena so you both could start walking in. “life’s been normal, busy, but normal.”

“how’re your parents?”

quinn tucked his hands in his pockets. “they’re fine. they ask about you, miss you.”

you almost stopped walking. you never once considered yourself important enough to be noticed, let alone missed. “and luke?”

“still at michigan.”

you fell into a comfortable silence after that, something you’ve always loved about quinn, your ability to just be without any expectation of conversation. as you made your way to your seats, quinn stayed quiet, waiting until you were seated to finally say something.

“what made you come to this game?” he asked.

you wanted to shrug off his comment, to say something flippant, but you’d always been honest with quinn in the past. “jack invited me and i couldn’t say no.”

“but why?”

“i--” you paused. “i don’t know. i don’t think i could deny him of anything if he asked me.”

he nodded, seemingly content with your lackluster answer, maybe because it was the most honest one you’d given in awhile.

as the game began, quinn would make little comments here and there, mainly about jack and his performance. “he’s playing really well,” he’d say.

after jack scored a goal, you saw him scanning the crowd as nico and his teammates rushed him. but he didn’t smile until you two locked eyes. and if you smiled as well, who was to blame you? surely they’ve never seen jack hughes embody the full weight of joy. in the corner of your eye, you could see quinn smirk, but you ignored it in favor of looking at the players.

the both of you walked down to the locker rooms, flashing your lanyards jack had given quinn earlier that day. you stood outside, bouncing on your toes.

“what’s got you so antsy?” quinn asked.

you stopped. just now noticing that you were wringing your hands together. “i--uh--”

“you made it!” nico came out first with his hands open and arms spread wide in greeting.

“why wouldn’t we be here?” quinn asked. “we made plans.”

it was a brief second, but you caught it nonetheless, the glance nico made toward you that said everything all at once. before you could comment, trevor and jack appeared, the latter having the biggest shit-eating grin you’d seen in awhile.

“who’s ready for dinner?” jack asked.

then

“if i was a worm, would you still love me?”

“what?” jack laughed, hands buried in your hair as you rested you head in his lap.

“if i was a worm--”

“no, i heard you. i was just giving you an opportunity to say something else.” you slapped his chest lightly with your hand and abruptly sat up before scooting towards the other side of the couch. “hey no, come back.”

“not until you say that you’d still love me as a worm.”

“would i even know it was you? how did you turn into a worm?”

“an evil wizard came down and turned me into a worm. does that answer your question?”

jack grabbed ahold of your ankles and dragged you back to him. he pressed his lips to the side of your head and smiled. “i’d love you even if you were the smallest worm.”

now

jack picked out a small italian restaurant twenty minutes away from the arena. when he finally pulled up to the building (all of you riding together), your stomach sank. it looked all too familiar.

the last time you’d been there, was the last date you had before you broke things off. part of you wondered if he selected that place on purpose, but the more rational part knew it was his favorite spot in town.

the five of you walked in and got a table. it didn’t go unnoticed that as you all sat down, the only seat left was next to your ex boyfriend.

“it’s nice to have the gang back together,” nico said. “i missed you guys.” you wanted to look down at the table, but when nico made eye contact with you and smiled, you were glad you didn’t.

“are you ready to order?” the server came up and asked. “i can give you a few minutes if you’d like.”

you panicked and looked down at the menu. you hadn’t been here in so long you couldn’t recall what you enjoyed the most. by the time it made it to you, you were no closer to figuring it out.

“you okay?” jack mumbled.

you looked up to see his earnest eyes focused on you and you alone. not the boys, not the pretty server, just you.

“i can’t remember what i usually get.”

jack reached over and pointed to the top left spot on the menu. “you used to get the carbonara.” but you weren’t looking at the menu. no. you were looking at his profile, how focused he was at reading the ingredients to make sure it was something you liked.

you knew it because it’s what he used to do all the time.

“i’ll get the carbonara, please,” you said with a small smile.

the server walked away to place the table’s orders and conversation picked up again.

“so,” trevor started, staring you down across the table with something akin to smugness on his face. “are you seeing anyone?”

“trev,” jack cut in.

“no, i think we should let her answer,” nico said. “i mean, it’s been awhile since we’ve all been together and caught up.”

“i--” you choked out, your heart beating hard in your chest.

“guys cmon,” jack started. “just leave it.”

there was something in you that sparked up at hearing his insistence you keep quiet. something that rebelled against the idea of staying silent.

so you spoke.

“i’ve been on a few dates.”

and the absolute devastation of jack’s face was enough to make you want to take it all back.

then

“do you really think that baseball cap is gonna hide your very recognizable face?” you asked him as you walked into yost ice arena.

“i’m hoping people will be too busy focusing on the game to look at me.”

“how could anyone ignore this handsome face?” you asked, taking your hand and squeezing his cheeks into a fish face.

he smacked your hand away and gripped it in his own, swinging it between both of your bodies. the both of you walked over to the row of seats his family saved.

his mother and father smiled at the sight of you. bringing you into a hug like you were a part of their family. and maybe, to them, you were. you and jack had been together for the better part of three years at that point.

despite not having seen his family in a few months, jack still sat on the outside with you tucked in between him and his mother with his hand resting on your thigh.

a shiver went up your spine spontaneously. jack shot you a look before he threw an arm around your shoulder, bringing you in as close as he could with an arm rest between you two.

“you okay?”

“just forgot how cold ice rinks are,” you replied in hopes he wouldn’t notice your flushed face. three years and that man could still do that to you.

"you get used to it after awhile,” he said as he kissed the side of your head.

no, you thought. i don’t think i will.

now

dinner wasn’t as lively as it once was after your confession. trevor and nico tried to compensate, hell even quinn was making an attempt at conversation, but it was obvious you and jack’s hearts weren’t in it.

he wouldn’t stop staring at you from the corner of his eye and you couldn’t help but stare at the food he remembered you loved right before you shattered his heart again.

it wasn’t long before the five of you were headed home after nico covered the bill. jack drove, leaving you in shotgun, and everyone else in the backseat pretending the tension wasn’t suffocating. jack dropped the boys off at the arena, with nico saying he could take quinn and trevor to their hotels before they all but scrambled out of the car.

which just left the two of you idling in the parking lot.

after jack saw them get into nico’s car, you fully expected him to drive off and take you home. but he just sat there.

“how long did you wait before trying to find someone else?” he asked while staring out the windshield.

“it wasn’t like that--”

“then what was it like? what was i supposed to think? we’ve been broken up for five months now and you’ve been on multiple dates?” his voice escalated.

part of you wanted to shrink back into the seat until you disappeared into the leather, the masochistic part of you fully believed this was what you deserved, the third part felt like a cornered predator.

and that’s what won out in the end.

“oh don’t act like you haven’t gone out with some girls--”

“i haven’t!” that shut you up really quickly. “i haven’t so much as looked at another girl since you broke up with me.” he finally looked at you, but you wished he wouldn’t have. the tears in his eyes triggered that part of you that you’d stifled the past few weeks, the part that constantly reminded you how fucked up you were.

so you did the only thing you knew how to do.

you unlocked the door--

and bolted.

then

you were signing discharge papers when jack burst into your hospital room sweating and disheveled. you smiled when he came in, using one hand to wave him closer.

“what the hell were you thinking? falling off a ladder? what was so important you couldn’t wait until i got home?” he walked over to you and straight into your arms anyway, despite his chiding tone.

the nurse took the papers away to be filed and left him with you.

“it’s just a broken ankle,” you said like one would talk about the weather. “it’ll be healed in a matter of weeks.”

jack pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “i don’t like it. i hate that you got hurt and i wasn’t there.”

“the only one at fault here is me, jack. i was trying to hang up...” you trailed off.

“hang up what?” he asked.

but the nurse came back in with a wheelchair and a smile. “you’re free to go, hon.”

jack wheeled you out to the lobby. the nurse waited with you while he pulled his car up. when his car was parked in the front, he ran back inside and helped you get settled onto your crutches, walking behind you with his hands prepared to catch you should you slip. he helped you into the passenger seat before jogging around the front of the car to drive off.

“so what were you hanging up when you fell off the ladder?”

you smirked. “you’ll see.”

jack rolled his eyes. “if it’s the pictures we got printed, i told you i’d get to it.”

“like i said, baby, you’ll see when you get home.”

he parked in the driveway and told you to stay put until he could help you get out of the car. once you were situated on your crutches, he glanced at you, your leg, and the stairs you would inevitably have to climb before he squatted down and gestured for you to climb on.

“jack, i don’t think this is necessary--”

“i think it’ll go faster if you just hop on and get it over with.”

you sighed and climbed on his back with one arm loosely wrapped around his neck, the other holding onto your crutches, his arms holding your legs in place around his hips. jack went up the stairs with little to no struggle, which just baffled you. even after living in your third floor apartment for eight months, you still found yourself winded after going up all those steps.

“each and every day you find a new way to impress me, hughes,” you commented,

“yeah? what is it this time?”

“how you don’t feel like dying every time you walk up these stairs.”

he laughed but didn’t offer a response.

“no, i’m serious,” you said. “what’s your secret.”

“being a professional athlete,’ he deadpanned.

you threw your head back and laughed as his foot hit the final stair. jack gently placed you down on the ground while you got situated on your crutches again.

“you good?” he asked.

you nodded. “i’m fine.”

jack unlocked the front door and nearly fell backwards into you when a loud “happy birthday” erupted from inside your apartment.

you nudged him forward with your non injured foot but he took a moment to glare at you. “you broke your leg to hang up birthday banners?”

you leaned in and kissed him. “happy birthday, jack.”

now

“get in the car.” jack had opened his door and gotten out almost as fast as you had.

but you shook your head and kept walking. “no.”

jack caught up to you rather easily, being in better shape than you for professional reasons. he gently grabbed your wrist and turned you around. “i don’t know who you think i am but i’m not leaving you here. it’s late, we’re in the middle of a parking lot--”

“it’s well lit--”

“and you’re not wearing a coat,” he continued on like you weren’t even talking. “you’re gonna get sick or kidnapped so please just get back in the car.”

“i can’t,” you whispered.

“why not?”

“because you keep looking at me like you hate me.”

that stopped him dead cold in his tracks. any movement he had, whether it was his hands running through his hair or his pacing back and forth. “what?” and you wanted to take it all back just so you didn’t have to hear how broken one syllable could sound.

and then the tears started, the embarrassment and humiliation and the shame from your confession earlier catching up to you finally. “and i don’t blame you because i was awful to you."

“why would you think that?”

“because everyone does!” and you’re so close to tearing your hair out in frustration. with whom? you weren’t sure if it was frustration aimed at yourself or jack or the situation.

“i’m not everyone,” he said in the quietest tone you’d ever heard him speak. “okay? i could never hate you, even if i wanted to.”

you kept sobbing. “you are way too good for me, jack hughes.”

but he shook his head and brought you into his chest, lips pressed to the top of your head. “that’s not true,” he said. “not even remotely close.” a beat passed. “i love you.”

“jack--”

he took your hand and placed it over his chest. “feel my fucking heartbeat right now and tell me i don’t love you.”

“i can’t do this,” you whispered.

“why not? do you not believe me?”

“i’m no good for you, jack! this won’t work. please, just take me home.”

then

a knock drew you out of your reverie from staring at the mirror and obsessing over your flyaways.

“it’s for you!” your roommate called. you giggled. actually giggled to yourself at the idea of jack standing in your living room with your roommates.

you rushed out, dress flaring at your thighs. jack turned around at the sound of you coming out of your room and smiled with a bouquet daffodils in his hands.

“you uh--” he stuttered. “you look amazing.”

“do a little twirl,” your roommate giggled.

you spun around before walking over to jack. “hi.”

“are you ready?” he asked once he got his bearings.

you nodded. “just let me put these in a vase--”

“i got it!” your roommate said. “you two have fun!” she said before all but shoving you out of the door.

“so what do you have planned?” you asked once you were on the road. you weren’t nervous per se, having known jack for a year before he finally asked you out.

“would you stop?” he laughed. “you’ll find out when we get there.”

you huffed and sat back in your seat, looking out the window while jack played some country music on his phone. when he finally parked, you recognized the arena almost immediately as the one he played in regularly.

“you took your day off from the ice rink to bring me...to the ice rink?”

jack rolled his eyes. “have some faith. stay here,” he said before popping out of the car and jogging around to your side to let you out.

“i could’ve gotten out myself,” you said.

“i know,” he shrugged. “but thank you for waiting anyway.”

you walked inside together, hand in hand. jack led you to the locker rooms where he picked up a bag and took your hand again before leading you to the rink.

before you was a blanket in the middle of the rink with a basket full of what you assumed was food.

“you didn’t,” you said.

jack shrugged.

“but how are we gonna get out there? i don’t have skates.”

he unzipped the bag in his hand and pulled out a pair of skates. “your roommate told me what size shoe you wore. i figured we could eat and then i could show you how to skate.” he explained.

“you bought these?” you asked.

he shrugged again. “yeah, but it was nothing.”

but it wasn’t nothing to you. it was everything.

now

you get the call at 4pm from an athletic trainer asking for your name. your heart settles in your throat when you hear the mention of jack’s name.

“there’s been an accident at the game tonight, he’s being rushed to the hospital right now. we called because he has you listed as his emergency contact.”

“o-okay,” you whispered into the phone. “which hospital is he going to?” the athletic trainer gave you the information as you hurried out the door in a pair of shorts and a tee shirt and slippers.

you didn’t remember to go the speed limit, hell by the time you got to the hospital, you weren’t even sure if you ran a red light or not. all you could focus on was jack.

jack was hurt.

you needed to call ellen. you needed to call jim. you needed to call that old lady who lived across the hall and ask her to check if you locked your front door. but all of that took a backseat because jack was hurt.

when you parked, you were taking up two spaces, but didn’t give a fuck because you were sprinting to the front doors of the hospital. “hi,” you greeted the front desk woman. “i’m here for my boyfriend?”

“you’ll have to be a little more specific, baby,” she said.

“i--”

you heard your name being called and whipped your head around to see the athletic trainer standing there. “i can show you to his room, follow me.”

you nearly cried in relief and followed the trainer. “do you know what’s going on?”

the trainer shook her head. “we had an idea, but we’re not doctors.”

you nodded, unable to say anything else, even as you entered the elevator. the both of you walked out of the elevator and headed down a long hallway to the very end. she gestured at the door and nodded for you to go in.

you couldn’t breathe. not when even when you saw him laying in bed laughing at a tiktok on his phone with his left leg propped up.

he looked up when you walked in the room. “hey--” but he didn’t have time to finish before you were sprinting across the room, grabbing his face in your hands, and kissing the life out of him.

it took him a second, but he responded fairly quickly, his own hands winding around your waist. you weren’t sure how much time passed before you were pulling away and looking him in the eyes.

“are you okay?” he nodded, rendered speechless by your display of affection. “i’m sorry, they called me and i freaked out and i didn’t even get to change--”

“did you--” he looked at you, more specifically what you were wearing. “you’re not wearing pants or a coat. are you insane? it’s freezing outside and you’re not even wearing real shoes!”

“they said you were hurt,” you said like it explained everything. “i couldn’t think, i just dropped everything and...”

“why?

“i--”

“you rejected me the other night, which is fine, it sucked, but it’s fine. but it doesn’t explain why you showed up. i think i at least deserve an answer.”

you do, you thought to yourself. that and so much more.

“i’m your emergency contact,” you replied.

“shit,” he said. “sorry i forgot to change that, i’ll--”

“and you’re still mine.” he stopped his rambling as you stroked his cheeks with your thumbs. “when i got the call, i thought i was gonna lose you.”

“you’re never gonna lose me, baby.” he moved your hands off his face so he could hold yours. “i’m yours, always have been, always will be.”

“i love you,” you smiled.

and it was like the sun came out in the middle of that hospital room when he smiled back at you. jack pulled your lips to his, or at least tried to. you both kept smiling too much for it to fully be considered a kiss.

“do you remember,” you said against his mouth. “do you remember when you moved out and took all our stuff?”

“mhm,” he hummed, but he was too busy chasing after your lips.

“i kept the skates.”

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #my writing

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 2 years ago

Note

Remus lupin x reader

Maybe they see each other at a party after not seeing each other all summer and they end up either kissing or talking all night or both or more its up to you :)

hi, anon! so sorry this took me forever to write! i really liked the idea and wanted to write a full fic but had not had time. i don’t know why it turned so angsty lol but i hope you like it, and feel free to request something fluffier if you wanted that!

pairing: Remus x reader

summary: You reunite with Remus for the first time since he rejected you months ago, but perhaps there was more to be said.

tags: friends to lovers-ish, fluffy angst

word count: 2.3k

You’d know that head of hair anywhere. Your stomach lurched as you walked further into the room, the party starting to pick up to full force. His back was turned to you so you couldn’t see his lovely face, but his height and his messy brown locks that you just wanted to run your fingers through were impossible to miss. Remus. Your Remus… No, not your Remus, you had to remind yourself. Remus that you were impossibly in love with. Remus that you had spent every morning after a full moon comforting since you’d found out about his furry little problem. Remus that had rejected you almost three months ago just before the summer, the last time you’d seen him. Now, here you were, at a party you didn’t even want to come to in the first place, dragged lovingly by Lily who said you moped at home too often. She was right, of course, but you loved moping at home, and why put such a limit on doing the things you love?

You’d been friends with Remus for years before telling him about your feelings. Those feelings had started almost as soon as you’d met him and just grown from there as you got to know him. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, always thought it a bit superficial, a thing for movies that didn’t want to take the time to develop full characters. But with Remus it had been pretty damn close. But to you, it had been very far from superficial, you loved him upon seeing him because of everything his appearance told you about him.

The way he didn’t seem to put too much effort into his appearance, his hair messy, his clothes casual. You loved his jumpers, the way they looked on him so attractive and the idea of wearing one of them with his smell still clinging to it so enticing. You loved the way he looked as though somehow he was simultaneously completely in his own world, in his own head, but at the same time observant and sensitive to the world around him. This wouldn’t have seemed to you something you could tell just from looking at a person, but looking at Remus, really looking, you felt you could see into his soul. His mesmerizing brown eyes told you so much. When he was reading, as they scrolled across page after page, you wished desperately that you could see inside his mind, certain that the way he imagined any story would be its best possible version. Those same eyes, though, looked upon his friends with such love, such care that you knew his heart was as brilliant as his mind even though he was a solitary person.

You’d gotten on pretty quickly too. Before Remus, crushes had always made you freeze up. You never knew what to say, were afraid of embarrassing yourself. But with Remus, it had been the opposite. You inevitably opened up when you were with him, were the most comfortable, the most yourself.

Well, you had been anyway. That felt as far from true as possible now. Seeing him at the party had you paralyzed in place and desperate to snap out of it in time to run and hide before he saw you.

“You should talk to him. I know how much you miss him, and I’m sure he misses you too. James says so, and how wouldn’t he with how much you too like each other?” you heard from beside you. You turned to Lily and gave her your best “are you absolutely mad?” face.

“Oh, c’mon, y/n. Remus is nice… well, at least nice to you. I’m sure he won’t make it awkward.”

“How could it possibly not be?” you replied. “I can’t do it, Lils. Or, I don’t want to. I don’t know. Either way, I’m so not going over there.” “Well, that’s alright…” You were surprised at how easily Lily was letting it go; it wasn’t like her, but you were happy for the slack. “…because he seems to be coming over here,” she finished, grinning as if this was amusing.

Your head shot in Remus’s direction, and sure enough, he had turned toward you. Your eyes met, and you wouldn’t ‘ve been able to name the feeling that shot through your entire body in that moment. Was it pleasant? Unpleasant? Fear? Love? It was like it was everything at once. Very like Remus to make you feel so much, to make feeling such an intense experience, even after all this time… it was infuriating.

When he looked at you, his usually stoic eyes softened, and he opened his mouth as if to say something to you even though he was still quite too far, especially with how loud the surroundings were. You both stood still in place, staring at each other from across the rather large room. He took the first step. But as he did so, you turned away quickly and shoved past crowds of people in your desperate shot for the door.

You made it outside, and the fresh, cold night air was a pleasant punch. It recalibrated the world, centered you, brought you back to your body, away from the pulsing music and your own pulsing heartbeat in your ears. You breathed it in like the sweetest medicine.

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire out here in the cold. You knew you must be blushing madly from the combination of embarrassment but especially sadness and anger at your almost-encounter with Remus. Bringing your cold fingers to your warm cheek, you felt a tear there you had not been conscious of shedding. You wiped it away quickly and took a long, stabilizing breath. You were finally calming down when you heard it.

“Hey…” His unmistakable, dulcet voice just behind you.

You closed your eyes tight but said nothing and didn’t move.

He waited a few beats without saying anything more, but his presence behind you was heavy with anticipation and there was absolutely no doubt in your mind that he was still there.

“Can we talk?” he asked, more of a whisper this time, closer. You took another deep breath then turned to face him.

He was so beautiful. The scars across his face and peaking out of the collar of his jumper were particularly salient in this moonlight; his skin was still pale despite most others’ summer tans. His fingers were playing with his too-long sleeves; he was chewing his bottom lip, waiting for you to answer him. You gave a slight nod.

His tense shoulders seemed to relax a bit at that, and he took another step closer to you.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Fine,” you responded, a bit too quickly.

He paused, probably hoping you’d say something more, but when you didn’t he just gave a bit of a nod as he tried on.

“How was your summer?” “Good.”

A beat. “Look, y/n…I know we left things in a kind of weird place last time we saw each other, but —“ Your scoff cut him off.

Now you waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, you said, “that’s a nice way to phrase being rejected after admitting feelings that terrified you and losing your closest friend in the process.”

He looked dumbstruck at your directness. His lips tightened into a harsh line and he exhaled sharply out of his nose before whispering, “It doesn’t have to be that way.” “No?” you asked, a bit more harshly than you intended. “Which part?”

“We can still be friends,” he said kindly.

You couldn’t help but scoff again.

“You can’t be serious?” you asked with a disbelieving laugh.

He opened his mouth to respond but closed it on words that never came. He looked away from you for the first time, up toward the sky, chewing his lip again, burying his hands in his pockets. He cleared his throat loudly, and you couldn’t tell if he was trying to keep from crying or trying desperately to come up with something to say, but there was no missing how upset he was. You felt a pang of regret at this realization. You were upset too, heartbroken, but you still cared so deeply for him and couldn’t stomach the idea of causing him pain.

“Remus…” you whispered. His eyes shot directly back to yours at the sound of his name, and his expression shifted immediately to something between sadness and longing.

“I…” he let out but again couldn’t continue. You stepped closer to him this time.

“Remus… Listen… I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I just… I can’t. Be friends with you, I mean. Not like you want me to be. It would hurt too much loving you, knowing you don’t love me too.” You were crying softly now, and you looked down as you finished, unable to maintain his piercing gaze.

“That’s what you think?” He sounded appalled, almost offended. “What?” you looked back at him.

“You think I don’t love you?”

“Well, you basically said as much.” “I didn’t.”

“You did.” “No, I didn’t. I’ve never lied to you, y/n. Never.” He was firm, his calmness confusing you even more.

“I don’t understand… You rejected me. You didn’t return my feelings.” “That’s what you think happened?” His tone was utterly disbelieving, almost angry now.

“Isn’t it?”

“No.” “Then what happened, Remus?”

“I —“ He moaned in frustration. “You what? What, Remus? For fuck’s sake, please clarify things because I am seriously starting to lose it.”

“I can’t be with you.” It hurt just as much as it had all those weeks ago. It knocked the breath right out of you. You’d thought you’d processed, started to heal even if not yet move on, but this was just as raw as if you hadn’t just spent an entire summer trying to deal with it. You nodded slowly, angrily, looking away from him.

“I never thought you were cruel, Remus. What? Rejecting me once wasn’t enough?”

“Well you should have!” he yelled at you, shocking you, jolting you upright. His hand went to his face, rubbing aggressively then scratching into his hair in frustration. “You should have.” he said much more softly this time. “You should have realized I’m capable of cruelty, y/n. It’s in my blood. It’s what I am.”

“Remus…” equal parts scolding and loving, finally understanding. “Remus, you’re not.” “I am. And I always will be. How can I be with you being what I am? How can you want to be with me?” His last question was complete desperation, a barely audible whisper. You closed the space between you and brought your hand to his face. You caressed his cheek then rested your forehead against his. You worried he might resist your affections, but to your surprise, he didn’t. He melted into your touch, exhaling all of his tension as he nuzzled into your palm, brushed your nose with his, his eyes closed.

“Fuck,” you felt more than heard him say.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. He gave a bit of a chuckle. “Remus.”

“Hm?”

“Remus, look at me.” He opened his eyes, his face so close to yours. As you looked into each other’s eyes, he brought his hand up to your face, his cold fingers now caressing your warm cheek.

“You love me?” you asked him. “Desperately,” he responded immediately. “How could I not, lovely girl…”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Rem?” “What?” He was so taken aback his shifted slightly, only slightly, back from your face. “Of course not, y/n. You’re the cleverest person I know. Why would you ask me that?” “You trust me?” “Yes.” “Okay, then if you trust me and you trust my clever judgement, can you please believe me when I tell you you’re worth loving? Please, Remus. You’re breaking my heart not letting me love you. I know you don’t mean to, but you’re hurting me — hurting both of us — by acting out of fear.” He closed his eyes again and exhaled slowly. “I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve better.” “I don’t want better; I want you. And you’re hurting me now, Remus.” He took a second, looked back and forth between your eyes, scanned your face. “You’re sure?” “Entirely.”

With that, he kissed you immediately, fiercely, bringing his other hand to cup your face. You kissed him, running your other hand through his hair, pushing your body against his. Your tongues tangled; your moans harmonized. There was nothing else but him, his body, his mouth, in that moment; the rest of the word faded away as you breathed him in, tasted him for the first time, touched him as if for the first time.

After what felt like a blissful eternity, you broke apart but kept your faces a breadth away from each other. You couldn’t help but giggle, and he chuckled in response, still caressing your cheek and bringing his other arm around your waste, holding you close. Your arms met behind his neck, and you bumped your noses lovingly.

“So,” he stated. “You wanna go back to the party?” he asked, his tone implying he already knew your answer. “No, I don’t think so,” you laughed. “Good. Me neither.” “Good.”

“I really do want to hear about your summer, you know. And now we have all night to catch up — not to mention tomorrow… and the day after that, and the one after that…” His smile was joy and anticipation, but you could read his relief there too, could see how much he had wanted this like you had. “But…”

You cocked your eyebrow at him.

“But, I think I want to do this a little longer first.” His smile became his kiss, and you were sure you’d never get enough.

#marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauder x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader #remus x y/n #remus x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #fluff #angst #friends to lovers #mutual pining #lily evans

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yeagerfate · 1 year ago

Text

surprising them by speaking spanish.

characters: miguel o’hara and miles morales (earth-1610)

warnings: spoilers and reader is pregnant in miguel’s but other than that none! just pure fluff <333 oh and i write using actual capital letters not just lowercase lol. wrote this all on my phone so sorry if it’s bad 😭 and i’m not a spanish speaker so i used spanishdict for this. i’m really sorry if it’s not accurate, let me know if there are any mistakes! xoxo. one last thing: sorry this is so short! i just wanted to post something short and sweet while i work on something a bit bigger wink wink. can you tell i’ve never been on a date before?

MIGUEL O’HARA

It had been a very tiring day for Miguel.

Lyla had detected five more anomalies, including the Spot, messing with the Canon and all of the universes they’d ended up in. All of it had been extremely stressful for Miguel, especially because he was scared he’d end up snapping at you because of all the emotional turmoil. However, he couldn’t help but look forward to having a nice, warm dinner with you when he got home.

When he arrived home and didn’t hear you humming while cooking in the kitchen or reading on the couch, he was very concerned. “Honey?” He called. “You home?” Of course you were. Your car was parked outside in the driveway. Miguel wanted to smack himself for asking such a stupid thing, but he was much more worried about your whereabouts.

“I’m upstairs!” You yelled back. You hadn’t realized it’d gotten so late, and you were rushing to finish putting together your present for Miguel. A positive pregnancy test.

Miguel walked up the stairs quietly, a little confused but not mad. He could hear you fiddling around with something that sounded… like a bag? “Mi luna?” He entered the bedroom, and saw you rapidly shoving something in a small, white gift bag. Your shoulders tensed.

“Close your eyes!” You yelped out. “It’s a gift for you.”

“What for?” Miguel furrowed his brows. His birthday had already passed, Valentine’s Day wasn’t anytime soon, and your anniversary was in 6 months.

“Es una sorpresa para ti. Cierra los ojos, mi sol.” You smiled brightly. Finally, you’d be able to both surprise him with your Spanish, and your pregnancy. You couldn’t be more excited to see his reaction, especially since you’d both decided you were ready to have a child a few months ago.

Miguel’s ears turned pink. Since when did you speak Spanish? “I… okay.” His smile was beaming and eager.

You gently grasped his hands and opened them so that you could hand him the gift bag before telling him to open his eyes again. “Adelante. Ábrela.” Although you were nervous, you couldn’t see Miguel freaking out in a bad way. He’d been longing for a child for a very long time, especially after the loss of his Gabriella. Of your Gabriella, since Miguel was also your husband in that universe.

Miguel’s mouth was opened slightly, a small gasp emerging from him when he saw what the “gift” was. A positive pregnancy test. It felt like his entire world lit up when he saw those two lines; those two lines that meant everything to him.

“A baby? A baby?!”

Suddenly, his arms were wrapped around your waist, and he’d picked you up, twirling you around in a sincere hug before setting you down again. “You’re serious? You’re positive?”

“I’m serious. Vamos a tener un bebé.”

The way his eyes lit up was something you wished you’d captured with a picture, but you also were happy you could see it in real life. You were also delighted you’d learned Spanish secretly, so you could give him the news in his native language.

In that moment, Miguel decided that he’d never let anything happen to you or your child. It was the family he’d always wanted; the family he wished he hadn’t lost. One of his hands cupped your waist, while the other rested on the back of your neck. His soft brown eyes looked at you with such devotion it made you tear up. “Mi cielo,” He whispered, “Como te amo.”

MILES MORALES

Tonight, you were going to meet Miles’ parents for the first time. Miles had given you only one warning: not to call his parents by their first names. Though, you really wanted to impress them, especially since Miles was so special to you, and to his parents, of course, so you secretly began studying Spanish.

At first, it was a bit hard, especially since you spent so much time with Miles. You made sure to hide your Spanish workbooks under your bed, though, and whenever you had to go to Spanish lessons, you’d just tell him you had a babysitting job. It was always believable, though Miles was smart enough to know you were lying about it. He didn’t think you were doing anything malicious, though, so he decided to let it go. Maybe it was for his birthday? It was next month, so maybe you were planning a surprise party. He really did not want to spoil that for himself.

You’d seen his parents around sometimes, more often that not his father because he occasionally worked with the PTA. This was the first time you were actually going to have to hold a conversation with them, though.

You’d already gotten ready, having chosen a nice, classy dress but not too fancy. You put your hair into a pretty updo and kept it minimal on the makeup. Now, you were just rushing to review your Spanish. You really did not want to make a mistake and give his parents a bad impression.

Your reviewing was interrupted when you heard your phone ring. “Hi, I’m here,” Miles said. You could tell he was really anxious too, especially because of how shaky his voice was. “Okay, I’ll be right there.” You set your flashcards aside and walked towards the front door, smoothing your dress out and fixing your hair one last time before leaving.

Miles smiled as you walked down the front steps of your house. “You look nice,” He said shyly. “Thanks,” You smiled and took his hand.

You and Miles had given each other a pep talk on the way to his apartment, though Miles had given you much more advice. It was very appreciated. “Oh God, I’m scared,” You whispered to him as soon as you could see his house from down the street. “Don’t be, it’ll be fine,” He replied kindly.

Once you had gotten to his house, Miles took out his keys and unlocked the door, yelling to his parents that he’d arrived. Rio had immediately walked towards you, introducing herself as Miles’ mother in English, since she’d assumed you couldn’t speak Spanish. By the look on her face, you could tell she was skeptical of you, though that was understandable. Miles’ father, Jeff, had followed Rio.

“Hola, Señora Morales, Señor Morales.” Miles looked up, eyebrows raising impressedly at you before a boyish smile appeared on his face. He knew you’d ace your first impression, he was just nervous.

Rio was pleasantly surprised, and her face lit up. So did Jeff’s. “Bienvenido, mija,” Rio smiled. “Sígueme.”

“So… what was that?” Miles asked as he walked you home. The entire visit went great, although just a little awkward at first, and Miles was very satisfied with how it went.

“What was what?” You feigned confusion. “The Spanish thing. I didn’t know you knew how to speak it,” Miles replied. You smiled gleefully. “I didn’t. That’s why I was acting so weird. I wanted to learn for your parents, for you, Miles. I just wanted to surprise you, that’s all.”

Miles’ eyes widened. He blinked. He blinked again. “Really?! So that’s what you were doing. It all makes sense now.”

Giggling softly, you nodded enthusiastically, proud of yourself and your efforts to truly learn Spanish.

Miles couldn’t have been prouder.

#miles morales #miguel o'hara #spiderman x reader #across the spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv fluff #itsv x reader #itsv x you #miles morales fluff #miles morales x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #itsv fluff #this actually sucks i hate this lol

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itgetsdark-x · 2 years ago

Note

I have a request for Joel x reader where the reader has never been in a relationship where her orgasm was important to her partners so Joel makes it a mission to make her cum as many times as possible 👀

Oh anon, sweet anon I couldn’t turn down this request if I tried. I just know Joel would wanna satisfy his partner in bed as many times as he wanted to. I just 🧎🏻‍♀️ I hope you like it, I kinda rushed it a little as I was too excited to write it but yeah! Thanks for the request <3 I’m gonna go and hide now <3

Warnings: 18+, please it’s just smut. Oral (f receiving), mild breeding kink if you squint a little, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it, be sensible), use of good / little girl a lot, age gap (reader is mid - late twenties, Joel would be older but not explicitly stated), roughly follows the game / show but not at all lol cause the timeline is way off

Summary: Joel knew you had been left frustrated by your previous partners and well, when he heard you moan his name he couldn’t deny you the pleasure any longer.

Characters: Joel Miller x (f) reader

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: y’all know how bad I’m down for Joel rn, and I saw this tiktok that had me truly feral and frothing at the mouth so me being the true slut I am for this man, I had to include the dialogue. You’re welcome. Just as a little side note, I have all the other requests in my inbox and I love them all, I will work my way through but I work full time so please be patient, my loves <3

Before the outbreak happened, you had never had a boyfriend, not a proper one anyway and well, since then it had only gone downhill. You were in high school when the outbreak happened and miraculously you had managed to escape and actually survive. You had lost your family along the way and met up with a man called Joel Miller. You first met him in the Boston QZ, and since then you had become a team. It had been years and you were in your late twenties now, still teamed up with Joel but a few years back you took Ellie on with you. It had been a messy journey but one that was so worth it, Ellie was your bestfriend and Joel fathered her like his own. She was just a teenager but she had seen so much in her short life that had matured her much beyond her years.

After the outbreak, and in the world of dating, men seemed to be greedier at chasing their own highs rather than actually satisfying you in anyway, shape or form. The only orgasms you had really experienced in the past few years were from ones you had drawn from yourself; those long nights where you shifted in your bed and let your fingers give you some much needed relief. Still, you would have traded all of those orgasms for one decent one from another man.

“Are you listening to me? Hello?” Ellie snapped her fingers in front of your face. “I was saying,” she huffed. “I was saying, how was that date with David the other night, haven’t seen you since and I wanna know all the juicy details.” She giggled.

You were pulled out of your thoughts but you continued to stare at the food on your plate, you pushed it around before admitting defeat and setting your knife and fork down. “It was awful.” You whined. “Absolutely awful, like guys really only care about getting off themselves. I haven’t had a decent orgasm in years.” You complained and just as you finished your sentence, Joel joined you both at the table.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and you felt embarrassment rise in you. “Sorry, Joel.” You mumbled and Ellie was biting back a humungous laugh; you shot her a look and she tried to stifle the noise further.

“Anyway… I should be heading off to school.” Ellie giggled and looked at your embarrassed face and Joel’s awkward demeanour.

The three of you had settled down in Jackson after your journey temporarily ended when Joel finally located Tommy. It was a decent place; so long as you stayed in line and did your fair share of jobs. You helped out in various places; you helped tend to the animals, you sometimes assisted in classrooms and you were known to frequent shifts in the kitchen. Joel ran defence classes, teaching the older teens how to shot their guns, how to fight with weapons and generally preparing them for if they ever needed to evacuate and look after themself in the wild. He always did frequent patrol shifts around the walls, much like his brother did. In return the three of you had a decent three-bedroom home and for the first time in years, stability and safety. You were just pleased that it offered Ellie a small sense of normality and belonging.

“David is an asshole.” Joel stated with a smirk.

“Yeah, well, I know that now.” You laughed bitterly, no humour behind the noise at all.

“You know… some men out there do actually care about pleasing women. Not all. But some.” Joel said nonchalantly and it only caused your blush to grow deeper in your cheeks.

“Yeah, well, when you find one. Send them my way, yeah?” You said bluntly and rose from the table, taking your plate. “I’ve got a shift in the kitchen now and then I’m out at the farm for the afternoon. Ellie is going round to a friend’s this evening but promised she would be back before 10pm like normal.”

“Alright, sweetheart. See you later.” Joel said as he continued to eat his breakfast.

You long had a crush on Joel, from the moment he first met you in the QZ, you were hooked. He helped teach you how to fight, shoot and even hunt. There had been brutal moments outside the world of the QZ’s and Joel had saved you multiple times. There had also been those unspoken moments between you both where a touch on your hand as he helped you aim maybe lingered a second too long or his gaze fixated on you as you changed, when he thought you weren’t looking. You just assumed he never made a move on you due to your obvious age-gap, you assumed he always kinda looked at you like a kid. The age-gap seemed like such a trivial thing since the whole world ended but you never pushed your luck as you know you needed Joel to get by and actually live.

—

Your shifts went by quick and by the time you finished you were sweaty and in need of a long, hot shower and maybe, just maybe, you could get five minutes alone to scratch the burning itch under your skin.

“Joel, you home yet?” You called as you stepped into the home, no lights were on so you assumed maybe he was already in bed. Joel worked different shifts and so, nothing was really a surprise with him anymore.

There was no answer, just silence, you thanked the god’s above and all but ran upstairs, you turned the shower on to warm up and within minutes there was hot water filling the space. You underdressed yourself quickly and stepped into the water, the second the warm water hit your skin, you sighed with relief.

You soaped up your body and it didn’t take long for your fingers to explore your body and to slip between your slicked folds; a soft moan fell from your lips as your fingers circled your sensitive clit. You worked yourself quicker as your orgasm neared, you were so deep in the moment.

“Joel,” You whimpered as your eyes were closed and you worked your fingers faster. Your naked chest heaved as your ragged breaths ripped through your parted mouth. “So good, please. More.” You whined to yourself.

You had fully allowed yourself to delve into your fantasies; normally someone was always hope and you had to keep quiet whenever you masturbated. So when you had the house to yourself, you allowed yourself to be louder and enjoy it more.

Joel got home, he immediately saw lights on and heard the water running upstairs. He didn’t think anything of it and went to the fridge to grab himself a drink. That’s when he heard his name, he put his drink down and wandered upstairs, he didn’t make a lot of noise but he wasn’t exactly being sneaky either.

He saw your body, well, the back of your body at least; his hungry eyes raked over your naked form and they stopped at your ass. That’s when he heard you whimper again and he realised what you were doing. Which meant… no. You were thinking of him?!

Joel went to knock on the door, to politely announce he was home. Anything, but he couldn’t bring himself to and he certainly could held the way his cock hardened in his jeans at the thought of your cumming around your fingers whilst you thought of him.

His mouth went dry and gingerly he knocked on the door frame which caused your whole body to jump and you almost slipped in the bathtub.

“What the fuck?! Why are you watching me?!” You yelped and you saw Joel stood there, his eyes raked over your body before he looked around the room and avoided making eye contact with you. You brought your arms to try and cover some of your body.

“I uh, sorry darlin’. Heard my name and thought you called for me, I, uh, I get what you were doing now…” he said quietly and your cheeks turned a deep crimson.

“Joel,” you gasped. “I-I’m so sorry I — I thought no one was home and I was just, well, y’know what I was doing. I’m so embarrassed. I’m sorry.” You mumbled and switched off the water. You grabbed your towel off the ground and wrapped it around your body tightly.

Joel finally looked at you and this time he couldn’t help but smile, a boyish grin spread across his features and you wanted to punch him for being so smug.

“What?! What are you smiling about?” You whined, still embarrassed.

“Oh it’s nothing just… you want me to help you out, sweet girl. Show you what a real orgasm feels like?” Joel said lowly, the smug expression still on his face. Never before had he allowed himself to indulge in the lust he felt for you, until now; there you were, your hair was damp and your body glistened as the water droplets slid down every beautiful curve of your body.

“Oh fuck you, this,” you gestured up and down your body and between the two of you. You stepped out of the bathtub on shaky legs. “This isn’t something you get to take the piss about, okay? You can forget about that!” You hissed as you went to push past Joel. This was beyond humiliating and you didn’t need him to remind you of it or hold it above you as some kind of joke.

You tried to leave the room and Joel simply grabbed your wrist, before you could open your mouth he had you pushed up against the wall and was kissing you passionately. It was hot and heavy, your teeth clashed and your tongues met with a moan from you. Your hand found its way into Joel’s salt and pepper hair as his hands rested on your hip.

“Joel,” you mumbled, barely breaking the kiss between you both. “We shouldn’t, I mean. What about Ellie, what if she comes home? It’ll mess everything up.” You whispered, your breaths short as Joel peppered soft kisses to your jaw.

“With all due respect, darlin’… how about you shut up and let me show you how good a real man can make you feel.” Joel breathed, his lips hovering just by your ear.

His words, his lips, his breath; it was entirely all too much and not enough and it had your body quivering under him.

“Already shaking for me and I’ve not touched you, sweet girl.” He growled lowly in your ear and you shook your head in disagreement. “Bedroom. Now.” He commanded and you obediently left the bathroom and entered your own bedroom.

You stood awkwardly near the bed, you didn’t exactly have heaps of experience in the bedroom and the experience you did have was usually late at night and with someone you didn’t care for, where the other person was more interested in chasing their release rather than helping you get yours. Joel walked into the room and smirked at you, god, he was so infuriating with his arrogance.

“Let’s take this off, shall we?” Joel asked softly and held the edge of your towel, he tugged it off and it fell to the floor with a dull thud. You felt exposed and vulnerable as Joel’s hungry eyes drank you in; he was trying to memories every dip of your body, every freckle, every single hair and he wanted this image to replay every night in his head for the rest of his life. “Fuck. So beautiful, look at you.” He cursed, closing the space between you once more to kiss you again.

He walked you both back until your back fell flat on your bed, you whimpered helplessly under him as you felt his weight on top of you. His large hand came up to knead the soft skin of your breast before his fingers took your nipple and twisted it gently, your back arched off the bed at his actions and you whined under the older man.

“That’s it. Good girl, that feel good?” Joel asked and let his head duck down to envelope your sensitive nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicked over the bud and you moaned softly.

“Want you to take your clothes off.” You gasped out as your hands clutched at Joel’s grubby shirt. He released your nipple with a pop of his mouth and sat back to remove his shirt.

Your mouth went dry at the sight, you had seen Joel shirtless before but you had never been able to truly appreciate it. He had a little chest hair and his torso was delicately peppered with various scars, all of them ranging in size and intensity. He locked eyes with you as he stood to undo his belt and jeans, he kicked off the heavy denim and you couldn’t deny the way you clenched around air; you could see the outline of Joel’s cock, it was heavy and thick.

“Like what you see?” He laughed and grabbed his length through the thin fabric of his boxers. You nodded and shamelessly you let your thighs open further for him. “Good girl.” He cooed as he admired the site of your glistening cunt.

Joel wasted no more time and he was back on the bed with you, this time just dressed in his boxers. He positioned himself next to you, one leg draped over your to keep legs spread and teasingly, he trailed two fingers through your wet folds. You whimpered under him, spreading your legs further again. Joel laughed above you, he was watching your features as he let his fingers tease you for the first time. Your back arched slightly and your breaths became more ragged.

“Please,” you whined, your voice high pitched and needy. “Please don’t tease me, Joel.”

He laughed, again, he laughed and your body thrummed with anger as his fingers moved agonisingly slow before they fell to your clit and he circled that sensitive area just perfectly. You moaned, it was a loud noise and it shocked you as it was ripped from your throat. You threw your head back and your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you until they turned white.

“Nice and wet for me, hm? That all for me? I heard you moaning my name like a good little slut in the shower.” Joel groaned as his fingers got coated in your slick arousal.

He started a punishing pace and already, you felt the white heat in your stomach start to bubble aggressively. Joel leant up to admire your features once more, he loved the way your eyes fluttered shut every time he would move his fingers just so. Just as your body tensed, Joel teasingly changed the tempo of his movements and he could see the frustration that settled in your eyes but with that smug smirk on his lips again, he plunged two thick fingers into your tight hole and let his thumb stroke circles around your clit.

The noise you made was sinful, it almost didn’t sound human. Joel laughed, it was low and breathy and he felt so proud he was the one to elicit these filthy noises from you. He pulled his fingers out just to plunge them in deeper, only this time, he curled them upwards and it had you seeing stars. You felt lightheaded as you screwed your eyes shut and bit down onto your bottom lip.

“Think you can cum for me? Cum all on my fingers?” Joel asked and tenderly stroked some stray strands of wet hair from your face. “That’s it,” he cooed as he kept his fingers deep in you to stroke against the sensitive spot deep in your walls.

You were broken, already. Completely and utterly broken as Joel’s fingers ripped an orgasm from deep within you. Your back arched higher off the old mattress and your fingers clawed at Joel’s arm. No man had made you cum like this before.

You came heavily around Joel’s digits, your walls fluttered and clenched around him as he worked you through your first proper orgasm with another male.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he cooed softly into your ear as he sped his fingers back up. “You reckon you can cum again?” He asked and you looked at him with your lust-blown eyes and nodded silently, your lips still parted in pleasure.

Joel’s thumb drew circles around your clit and every so often he would swipe it directly over the little bud of nerves that had you whimpering under him. Your fingernails dug into the skin of Joel’s shoulder and in their wake, you left crescent moon shapes. Joel groaned at the sting of your fingers nails and it only encouraged him to work his own fingers in you deeply.

“Anyone ever eaten this little pussy?” Joel asked in a low tone, he pulled his fingers out of you and placed a light slap to your sensitive area. You yelped loudly and squeezed Joel’s arm.

You shook your head no and shivered under Joel’s watchful gaze, you couldn’t speak, you didn’t trust your voice to make the correct noises as you knew what was about to happen and it made your body ache with anticipation.

Joel kissed your mouth once before he trailed kisses down your stomach, it caused it to heave under his soft touches; his rough facial hair tickled across your skin. Joel took your thighs into his hands and pulled them so they draped over his shoulders, fully exposing your wet pussy to him. His mouth watered at the site and he couldn’t wait to taste every inch of you.

Joel wasted no more time, he parted your folds with his fingers before he delved his tongue into your wet heat. He couldn’t hold back the deep groan that rumbled up his throat, he had longed to taste you and have you gasping under him.

“So sweet,” he whispered as he slurped up your arousal. His tongue flicked over your clit and you gripped into his thick hair roughly. “That’s it, use my face, just like that, atta girl. Keep doing that.” Joel groaned as you greedily chased your high again on his face. He attached his lips onto your clit and suckled on it softly, his tongue rhythmically flicked over it.

“Go-gonna cum again!” You groaned. You looked down at Joel below you and it had you clenching around nothing, you longed to be filled as you came hard. His hair was a mess and his eyes were drooped shut as he ate your pussy like a man starved of food. “I-I want you in me. Need to feel your cock in me.” You whimpered as Joel flicked his tongue over your sensitive body.

“Yeah? You think you can cum again on my cock? How about you ride me, need to make sure you get all the orgasms you need, good girl.” He purred, standing up to stroke his cock after he removed his boxers. His length bobbed against his stomach when he removed his boxers. Your pussy fluttered with arousal as you watched his hand pass over his length a few times; none of the men you had been with were as big as Joel. He wasn’t just long, he was thick as well and you couldn’t wait to feel the stretch of him inside of you.

Joel climbed onto your bed so his back was against your pillows and he was half sitting up, he continued to stroke himself as you watched. You were strung out on the intense orgasms already and you weren’t sure how you were supposed to have it in you to ride his large dick. He held a hand up and made a ‘come hither’ gesture with his fingers, you sucked in a deep breath and moved your body up to his. You swung your legs over Joel’s lap to straddle him and he took his cock and passed it through the wetness of your pussy.

You shivered and gripped at Joel’s chest below you, your fingers combed through the light dusting of hair there. He pressed the tip of his fat cock to your wet hole and held your hips tightly as he brought you down on him. You moaned weakly as he bottomed out so you were sat in his lap, there was a faint sting as you adjusted to him.

“Bet you can feel me in your stomach, can’t you?” He purred, his fingers stroked soft patterns in the skin of your hips. He took one hand and gently stroked at your clit once again which caused you to grind down onto Joel’s length. He moaned at that and his head lulled back; you were so wet, so warm and just so tight. He knew he was the first one to split you open like that. “Such a tight. little. cunt.” Joel growled, his hips bucking up to fuck into you.

“So good.” You breathed as you started to bounce in his lap. “Feels so good. You’re so big.” You whimpered, with each bounce down, Joel thrusted up to meet you and it sent delicious shockwaves through your body. Your skin felt impossibly tight and too small for you and the burn in your stomach flickered furiously.

“That’s it. Atta girl, use my cock. Make yourself cum on me.” He growled, his thumb swiped over your clit once again which ripped a loud moan from your parted lips. As you bounced on his cock, your breasts heaved with the effort and your breaths came out of your mouth ragged and laboured.

“Can’t cum again, t-too much.” You whined and it was true, your body felt entirely too sensitive and everything almost felt too good, it took you by surprise since you weren’t ever aware that you could feel this good.

That’s all Joel needed, something animalistic switched in the pit of his stomach and with that, he had lifted your body to flip you onto your stomach. Your face pressed into the mattress with the force and he grabbed your hips roughly, pulling your ass up into the air for him. Joel brought a hand down and spanked the soft skin roughly.

He shoved his cock back into your wet heat with a groan and his balls slapped forward onto your clit. You whimpered pathetically and tried to grab at the sheets below you for leverage as Joel built up a rough pace.

“I said,” he accentuated the words with a rough thrust. “Cum on my cock, you wanted to been shown what it was like to cum properly. So cum for me.” Joel growled, his voice was dark and commanding.

Tears filled your eyes and soon there was a wet patch under your face on your sheets; you weren’t entirely sure whether it was from your tears or the saliva that pooled from your mouth.

“Touch yourself and cum on my cock.” You commanded bluntly and you obeyed, you snaked a hand under your stomach and rubbed at your clit with fervour. This angle caused Joel’s cock head to bump against that spot deep within yourself. You were soon cumming around Joel’s cock with a scream, you felt a gush and Joel was groaning behind you. “That’s it. Good girl, cum on me. Soak me.” He cooed and slapped your ass, softer this time so he could knead the skin.

You whimpered as you worked through your orgasm, your eyes screwed tightly shut and your walls fluttered around Joel’s cock as you came down from your high. He didn’t give you a second to recover as he pulled out and flipped you over so he could see your face.

“I wanna see your pretty little face when I fuck my seed into your greedy little hole.” Joel groaned, he tapped his cock against your sensitive clit and you quivered under him. You weren’t sure you could take much more, never had you felt so pleasured in your life.

Joel teasingly slow pushed his length into you once again and your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. He didn’t reach as deep in this position but you could feel every single inch as he slid in. He rolled his hips to meet yours and he groaned with each pass of your tight pussy.

“Want me to fill you up? What if I fuck a baby into you? You want that. Wanna get all round with my seed?” He growled and it made your walls clench around him, he smirked at the reaction and toyed with your abused clit. “I think you can give me one more, little girl. I think you can gush on my cock whilst I fuck my cum into you.”

You couldn’t believe the words Joel was saying, you were sure it just ‘in the moment’ but you still couldn’t believe the filth that fell from his dirty mouth. You shook your head no at Joel and he just barked a laugh at you.

“I’m sure I’ll get another out of you,” he whispered and leant down to kiss at your breasts once again. “Bet this is what you thought of in the shower, isn’t it? Bet you thought of my cock splitting you open as I fuck you. I’ve thought about it, baby girl. Fucked my hand so many times imagining it was your tight little pussy. God this is so much better than I imagined. You’re so good for me, taking me so well.” Joel praised with a gutteral groan, his hips were slower as he worked himself closer to his own relief. He was surprised it he lasted as long as he did, it had been a while since he had been with a woman and that was mainly down to you. Anytime he was with someone else he imagined it was you he was filling up.

“Come on, please give me one more. Just one.” Joel purred, his mouth sloppily licking at your hardened nipples.

It was too much; his words, his hand, his mouth on your nipples and his cock filling you so deliciously. You didn’t think you could but it happened again; you clenched around Joel once more, his hips stalled and he thrust deep inside of you as you’re tightened around him. The room was filled with your laboured breathing and Joel’s soft pants as he filled you with his seed. You whined as you felt the hot liquid coat your inner walls.

Joel laid there for a few seconds as he gained his composure once again and he rolled off your body, and slid out of you with a grimace and he winced. Your body shuddered as you laid there, completely fucked out and drunk on the older male’s cock.

You weren’t sure how long had passed but when you finally found the strength in your body to get up and go to the bathroom, it was pitch black outside, your room was illuminated softly with a distant spotlight. You pulled Joel’s shirt on as it was the only clothes readily to hand and you couldn’t help but smile as you saw his sleeping face, and for once, he looked peaceful. You tiptoed out of your room and headed to the bathroom, just as you stepped inside and turned the light on a figure appeared in the doorway of Ellie’s room.

“Gotcha!” She giggled as you held your chest from the shock.

“Ellie!” You hissed. “You almost scared me to death. Go back to bed, it’s late.” You scolded.

“Why are you wearing Joel’s shirt?” She asked with a knowing smirk.

“Oh I, uh…” You mumbled, trying to think of the words on your feet.

“I’m fuckin’ with ya… I came home earlier and well, let’s just say I’m glad the weather was alright for me to walk around the block a few times.” Ellie laughed although you could see the faint disgust on her features.

You held back a choked laugh and brought your hand up to your mouth. “Ellie, I’m so sorry.. we, I mean, we’re so sorry. We didn’t wann—“ you rambled nervously and she held a hand up and waved it dismissively.

“Eh, it’s whatever. I’ve seen the way you two practically eye-fuck each other anyway. I’m surprised it took old man Miller this long to make a move on you. Glad you got a decent orgasm though.” Ellie laughed with a shrug. “Goodnight, Y/N. Let Joel know I’m home safe.” She smirked and disappeared back into her room.

You sat on the edge of the bathtub and held the backs of your cool hands to your burning cheeks. You couldn’t quite believe that today had happened, and of course it ended exactly like that. You laughed quietly to yourself and got yourself up with shaky legs. After finishing up in the bathroom, you went back to your room and crawled into your bed and you drifted to sleep with the soft sounds of Joel’s snores.

You braced yourself on the edge of the bathtub and held your burning cheeks in your cool hands, you couldn’t quite believe that conversation just happened and Ellie had heard the two of you earlier.

You were just grateful she didn’t seem pissed or upset about it. Maybe things were going to work out all okay in the long run. However they panned out, you were just so relieved you finally were able to have a decent orgasm, or multiples, at the hands of another man. For the first time in a long time, you slept soundly as you listened to the low rumble of Joel’s snores.

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel miller smut #anon request #thanks anon <3

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plague-of-insomnia · 7 months ago

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I ship sebaciel but I only like their dynamic, in my head I imagine an adult Ciel and I only read fanfics when Ciel is way over 18 and can decide by himself/not be manipulated. I was raped when I was 15, I could never ship something like that. But anti pro shippers never bother to see the nuance. I'm afraid if I start publicly shipping it, people will call me a pedo lol Also I think that the ones who like the age gap still can't be compared to real pedos who consume lolicon/ realistic drawings who REALLY resemble children and explicitly are in a setting of a child being molested. I see incels doing that, and the kuro fandom is mostly women.

Hi, anon. Sorry I didn’t reply yesterday. I had COVID a couple weeks ago and now have bronchitis and i just ran out of gas to formulate a response I felt this ask merited.

First of all, I’m sorry that happened to you. I hope you’ve been able to get past it enough that it doesn’t affect your daily life too badly 🫂.

Sadly, a lot of antis act as if they’re the only ones who have been victims of (sexual) abuse, and that any survivor who doesn’t behave the way they do either must be lying or “deserved” what they got— which is absolutely awful to do to anyone.

As I’m sure you’re aware, we’re not a monolith. Some survivors find rape play (whether role play or in fictional works) helps them move past their trauma because it helps them to have the control they didn’t have as victims. But others find it triggering and upsetting and not helpful at all— and that’s valid too.

I personally don’t ship sc anymore mostly because I just don’t click with Ciel in the ship the way I do with other pairings. I also personally get very very uncomfortable with some underage depictions. For example, there was a fantastic sc fan fic a few years ago that I had to stop reading. It is one of the best written works in the fandom, but it just made me so uncomfortable (it’s underage) I had to stop.

But what did I do? Did i leave the author an angry message saying I was not gonna read it? No, ofc not. I just clicked away.

So if for you, you need situations in which you feel Ciel can fully consent/is in control to feel comfortable and happy then that’s perfectly valid! There’s no one “right” way to ship anything, and you have to look out for yourself first. Because we come to fandom to have fun and escape, so no need to delve into things you don’t like or that make you uncomfortable.

Antis are incapable of seeing these kinds of nuances, or realizing that purposefully consuming content that upsets you is self harm.

Sadly, if you openly ship sc (or even aren’t absolutely against it) you may get some hate. I know I have gotten my share, and it’s *always* about Ciel, no matter how I’ve depicted other characters or what ages they are in my stories. But I’ve also gotten hate for being a fujoshi (misgendering me at that) more than once, and some of it even before I joined the fandom… for my original work.

My point is that people are gonna attack you if they’re gonna attack you…. if you’re not willing to take that risk by being public about your ship that’s valid too. I definitely get how exhausting antis can be and if you’re just wanting to stare at your blorbos for a bit you don’t wanna be fighting of negativity left and right too.

It’s a shame that antis have started using the word pedo as a word for anyone they dislike, devaluing it, but the real shame imo is that they refuse to see that actual CSEM is bad not because it’s gross or immoral but because it harms actual children, who grow up to be adults with trauma.

I think it’s very important to distinguish actual CSEM (or “fictional works” that were intentionally modeled off real CSEM) from anything that’s purely fictional. Because you can never really know why someone made something or why someone likes something.

I write about child abuse, sexual and not, a lot because I find it very therapeutic, but someone might read my works and may draw other, completely erroneous conclusions about me and my motives.

I honestly think a huge chunk of the kuro fandom is nonbinary, but I don’t really know the demographics. I’m sure they’re slightly different depending on if you’re looking at the western or eastern fandoms…

But women can be toxic just like anyone else. Some of the absolute most vile antis I’ve seen identify as female.

Ultimately, I think that the best thing to do with the fandom (or any fandom, really) is to curate your experience. Block accounts that trigger you or don’t vibe with you. Find like-minded friends to chat with in private, so you don’t have to worry about strangers hopping on what you say. Filter tags and use apps if you need to.

I think it’s a shame that antis are so vocal in the fandom and have divided it so much. As a multishipper not much into sc, I have definitely felt that fracture more than some others, since sadly too many non-sc shippers think they need to scream about how icky that ship is and be jerks when we could just ignore sc entirely and enjoy the other ships we like instead together?

But the no matter what antis claim, sc shippers have always been and will always be the column that holds the fandom up, and you either need to make peace with it or learn to ignore it.

🫶

My ask box is open for anyone who doesn’t feel comfortable being open about their love for kuro but would like to squee over it/the new series with someone who doesn’t mind listening :)

#sorry for the long ramble #i hope i made some sense #poi answers #black butler #anon #fandumb #tw csa mention #tw child abuse mention #tw rape mention #sebaciel #antis dni

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idontplaytrack · 5 months ago

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Accidentally kiss with any auli’i character please I want fluff all cute a little silly

Stage Fighting

Lilette Suarez x fem! reader

Warnings: fluff, some coarse language, mentions of violence(stage fighting)

In which, reader and Lilette’s stage fighting assignment don’t go as planned, but in the best way possible

Somewhat inspired by the Victorious episode lol.

Today was Monday. And you’ve just been paired up with Lilette for an assignment on stage fighting. You’ve worked with nearly everyone in your classes for different assignments and projects and by far, Lilette was one of the few people that you could really get along with. You’ve always felt that your teammates were freeloading before, but once you got to work with Lilette, you realised that things just weren’t as stressful as you knew it to be.

The first order of business was to settle on scenarios and characters. You and Lilette decided pretty quickly, then went ahead with fully planning out scenarios and movements. The class concluded before you knew it and you went the rest of your day without seeing her since she wasn’t in any other of your classes today.

But, the girl seemed to have figured out your schedule. Because she was waiting for you outside your classroom and startled you when you exited the room.

“Sorry!” She gasps, “Gosh, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You chuckle, “It’s fine. What’s up?”

“Nothing much, I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out then maybe we can work more on the assignment? Settle on as much as we can then we don’t have to worry about it and just rehearse until it’s time to ‘present’ it.”

“Oh, sure! I’m free.” You agreed, “Where at?”

“Well, my place is a no-go because my Mom’s gonna be there and be upset with me over nothing. I can’t wait for her to go back home.”

“No one’s home today so we could go to mine? If that’s okay with you.”

Okay, look. You and Lilette didn’t only just met in acting school. You last saw her when you two were nine, which was the year you had to move away because your Mom got a job position in another state. The last memory you had with her was your ninth birthday party, then you never saw her again until you got into this school. And shit, you literally had to do a double take when you first saw her again because this girl made your heart skip a beat. You’d suddenly fallen for her and you didn’t know what to do other than keep it to yourself— you two weren’t that close anymore. And you even thought that she wouldn’t remember who you were, but she remembered. Once she saw you, her eyes lit up and she called you by your name. You were shocked.

Anyway, back to right now. You drove the two of you to your place. She’s never been here before and you could only hope you didn’t leave this place a mess— luckily, you didn’t. But damn was your memory bad sometimes, you could barely remember if you did even make your bed that morning. “Make yourself at home.” You smiled, shutting the door. “You…wanna get some takeout?”

“I don’t mind.” She shrugs, “Not that hungry yet, but if you want to order anything just go for it.” Lilette was sat on your desk chair, you walked up to your vanity and let your hair down then ran a brush through it.

“Okay.” You nod, “What do you feel like having?”

“I dunno, anything really.”

“Indian food? There’s this really great place not far from here.”

“That sounds delicious.” She agrees, “Anyway, we have until Friday. And we’re— I would say about 40, 50 percent done.”

“Yep.” You sat down on your bed, “For costumes, I think we could definitely just use our own clothes that we already have instead of having to go out and buy new stuff.”

“Oh, yeah. For sure. So, a mugging scenario. Would you want to be the person who gets mugged, or the person who is mugging the other?”

“I can’t decide, honestly. Been thinking about it since we decided on this situation and nope, no answer. So maybe you pick what you want?”

She laughs, “Okay. I’ll uh, I’ll pick. I’m gonna go for the mugger. They wouldn’t really expect that of me, so I guess it’ll be a nice surprise for the class.”

“True, true.” You giggled, “It definitely will make them pay attention, that’s for sure.”

————

The next day, first thing in the morning, you had gym class with Lilette. The teacher decided the best thing for this early morning class was a game of dodgeball. And your clumsy ass was nearly obliterated several times. But worst of all, your teammates were rough— pushing and shoving around like you were invisible. Pissed, you were ready to run off the court when the bloody ball hit you right on the head while you were faced the other way and taking off the sash. You were already out of the court, but still. That didn’t stop them. You fell forward, feeling that thud and throbbing in your head soon enough. Someone yanks you back and unsteadily, you spun around. “Fuck!” You muttered. You could barely stand up still, falling onto whoever caught you.

Oh, hell. How on Earth did this even happen? You felt their lips on yours and that’s what snapped you out of it— you pushed yourself off so quickly and stumbled away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Wait!”

Wait a minute, you knew that voice.

“Are you okay?”

You laughed giddily, “No…Lilette.”

Lilette?!

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I know, don’t worry about it.” Lilette assured, “Are you—”

“Go to the nurse, y/n.” The teacher came running up to you, “You’d better go make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“I’ll take you, come on.” Lilette says, putting her arm around you.

Well, that was no fun. Turns out, you did indeed have a concussion and it had you throwing up like a broken faucet for awhile. You felt disgusting. That afternoon, you were back home and your Mom was making lunch while you rested in your room. You heard the doorbell ringing and the front door open.

Less than a minute later, your bedroom door creaks. “Hey, you.”

It was Lilette.

“Lilette.” Your eyes widened slightly, “What’re you doing here?”

“Just wanted to check on you and hang out.” Lilette shrugs, walking inside and quietly shutting the door.

“I’m…okay, just still pissed, really. Why’d they have to slam that damn ball right at my head? Like, I know I’m not great at sports but is that a good enough reason to nearly take me out?”

“I’m glad you’re alright.” She smiles. “I brought you something.”

“Oh?”

“These.” She holds up a plastic bag of things, you took it from her.

“Aw, you remember?”

“Hey, we were friends for a long time, y/n.” Lilette chuckles, “I’ll never forget your favourite snacks.”

“You didn’t have to…”

“Come on, we all need a little cheering up sometimes. I’m just glad you’ll be okay.”

“Again, I’m really sorry about the— kiss.”

“Honey, don’t worry about it.” Lilette promised, “Seriously.”

You gulped, feeling the bile rising up your throat. You rushed out of bed and ran to your bathroom to spill your guts. As if you had anything left in you to do that.

“I’ll go get you some more water, okay?”

“Um—” You sniffled, “How about a popsicle instead?”

“A popsicle? Sure.” She nods, exiting your room after getting you settled in your bed again.

She soon returned with what you’d requested and continued to sit with you. “Can I tell you something? Before I chicken out.”

“Okay.” You hummed, nodding your head as you unwrapped the treat.

“I uh, I’m bi.”

“Oh.”

“And I’ve found myself developing a little crush on you when I saw you again for the first time at school.”

“You—”

“I don’t want to make things weird for you, so if you don’t want to be associated with me another, I—”

“Lilette.” You stopped her, “I’m gay.”

“You are?” Her eyes looked like they were going to bulge out of her head as she blushed, “Oh, good. I thought you’d hate me—”

“Oh, I could never.” You chuckled, “Trust me.”

She squints, “So—”

You nodded and her eyes lit up, “Really?”

“Yeah.” You confirmed, a bit tearfully, “I— I like you too, I just didn’t know how to say it because I wasn’t sure if you—”

Lilette leans in, wanting to kiss you but you backed away, “Mm, no— no, I just threw up.” She settles for your cheek instead, caressing it afterwards.

“So…” Lilette licked her lips, “What are we?”

“Well I guess, we’re girlfriends now, what do you think?”

“I like the sound of that.” She grins, holding onto your hand. You tossed the popsicle stick into the trash can by your bed and she gently pulled you closer to herself. You let it happen, now laying your head on her chest. “How are things going at your place?”

“She refuses to take the hint and go. I rushed over here as soon as school let out because i just couldn’t stand being home with her. I said for the weekend and today’s Tuesday already.”

“You can stay here in the meantime if you’d like.” You offered.

“I might have to take you up on that offer because otherwise I’d have gone crazy by the end of the week.” Lilette scoffs, stroking your head gently.

“Stay as long as you need.”

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @reneeswif3 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

#auli'i cravalho #lilette suarez #nbc #nbc rise #drama high #queer #lgbtqia #queer fic #wlw #gxg #reader imagine #reader insert #x reader #female reader #fluff #wlw sfw

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starcrossedxwriter · 2 years ago

Text

Bleeding Through Part 1 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Trigger Warnings: Angst, asshole Michael, some mentions for triggers for the OC but nothing graphic - just vague mentions (that will be important plot points in later fics!)

A/N: well… this is way longer than I intended or anticipated lol but here it is… Also if you love these two… don't be mad at me!! lol

“That looks delicious, Charlie. He’ll love it,” Michael’s mom commented as she watched Charlotte put the final touches on her husband’s favorite sweet treat, a chocolate cake.

Her eyes did not leave her cake as she checked the icing meticulously for spots that did not look exactly. She knew her attention to details slightly obsessive. After all, Michael could care less about the look of desserts as long as the taste was just right. And if there was one thing Charlotte could do, it was bake. But still, she desired only perfection for her husband’s first day home from shooting. Her entire spirit beamed at the compliment from her mother-in-law, one of the few people in the world whose opinion mattered to her.

“You think so??”

At Donna’s affirmative nod, the young woman let out a small squeal of excitement before laughing at her own antics.

She moaned, “Ugh… Sorry… I know I’m acting like a complete nut. I just can’t wait for him to be home. This time felt way harder for some reason.”

“I know. It felt longer than three months.”

Charlotte shrugged. “He wasn’t able to call home as much, maybe? Usually we FaceTime every night when he gets home from set but I could barely get him on the phone once a week. And I’ll get to see him at some point but I haven’t seen him since Oscars weekend,” she mused before shrugging. “But I totally get it. Lupita mentioned that the filming and training schedules were just relentless so he probably just didn’t have much time.”

Michael’s schedule for Marvel’s Black Panther had been crazier than most of his projects so Charlotte truly did understand. Most of the film was shot in Atlanta but the cast had flown to several other locations across the world while training to capture different scenes. And she knew that Michael’s character forced him to stay in hair and make-up longer, which meant earlier and later days on set than many of his counterparts.

With all of that in mind and as an actress herself, she gave Michael as much grace and understanding throughout the process. He missed a call, no worries. Forgot to call her back, all good. However, that meant they had seen precious little of each other since he left in February. Three months later, she desperately missed everything about him.

“That boy doesn’t know how to slow down either.”

The pair shared a laugh. “Definitely doesn’t.” She checked her watch and phone, her face falling into a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, forcing her mouth back into a grin and her concern back to the depths of her mind. “N-Nothing, nothing. Just… well he usually texts me when he lands and is on his way but he should’ve landed like an hour ago? Hell, he should be walking through the door any minute.”

“I’m sure he’s fine… you know he’s forgetful.”

Michael could be forgetful, it was true. But generally not with things like this. He knew how much Charlotte worried so he never forgot to text her when he landed somewhere. It was usually the first thing he did even when they spent the whole flight texting back and forth. Which was also unusual. She had not received one text from him his entire flight. She shook her head as if she could shake the thoughts out of it.

He’s fine… he’s fine, she thought to herself. She knew she was just trying to convince herself. To keep her concerns at bay as she worked to clean up their kitchen, she made a mental note to call him in ten minutes if she did not hear from him. However, that ten-minute mental alarm never needed to go off.

“Speak of the devil,” she whispered to herself as she heard a key turn in the door. She wiped off her hands off and raced to the foyer of their home just as Michael crossed over the threshold.

Damn he looks good, she thought to herself as she took in his Killmonger look. She loved him in any iteration. But she could not deny this one was… sexy as fuck. Her eyes almost did not know what to focus on and she was shocked at how, even with only three months on set, his body had changed so much from when he left. His muscles were massive before but now they threatened to break the limits of his hoodie, his beard had grown longer and a bit unruly, giving him a rugged look that made Charlotte go weak in the knees. And she could not deny that the dreads were growing on her. They were neatly braided back to keep them out of his face.

“Hey handsome,” she offered with a bright smile. She immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her movements almost faltered as she felt his body tense up at her touch, however, he seemed to catch himself and force his body to relax. However, the hug and chaste kiss he placed on her lips were still brief.

“Hey babe,” he offered before quickly breaking free and moving to bestow equally-brief hugs to his parents.

Charlotte felt the balloon in her heart deflate slightly at his less-than-warm welcome. Perhaps she had simply built his return up in her mind but typically when he returned home, even from a weekend, he could not keep his hands off of her. And she would be lying if she claimed she did not enjoy it. And so, in this moment, it felt odd not to receive it, his immediate love and affections.

However, she knew she would not solve any of these conundrums standing in their foyer so she fixed her face back into a smile and followed her husband deeper into the house.

“How was the flight, babe?”

“Fine.”

“You hungry? I may or may not have a freshly made chocolate cake in the fridge for you. A lil welcome home surprise.” She hoped the promise of his favorite sweet treat would bring out some of the excitement to be home that she felt he was missing.

“Nah I’m good. Just gonna go shower.” His eyes barely left his phone as he moved through their house, his answers short and clipped as to not invite additional conversation.

And before Charlotte could even blink or think of a response, he disappeared before her eyes to their master suite upstairs. Charlotte glanced around, unsure of what to do with herself. This was certainly not how she expected his return home to go. She anxiously fiddled with her wedding band as her brain went down a million different rabbit holes at once. She questioned whether he was upset with her. But she had barely spoken to him in the last few weeks, hell the last few months if she were honest about it, so what could she have said or done? She glanced down at her clothes, which did have a light dusting of flour across them due to her mad furry of baking earlier in the day. Perhaps he expected her to look cuter or more put together for his return and he was disappointed?

Whatever the reason, she knew something was off. This man who looked and spoke like her husband was not fully him. She stood at the foot of their staircase for a few moments as she tried to strategize what she should do next. Should she go and talk to him and gauge what was wrong? Or should she give him space? She was not used to not knowing what to do where Michael was concerned. Usually, they moved in perfect step and in sync. This was far from that.

She did not noticed Michael’s mom studying her until she spoke up.

“I’m sure he’s just tired, Charlie.”

Her words knocked her out of her trance.

“Y-yea, yea. Just tired,” her words trailed off as she nodded to herself. She repeated the words underneath her breath a few times as if to convince herself her mother-in-law was correct.

Not everything is a reaction to you, Charlie, Charlotte reminded herself, a refrain her therapist had given her many years ago that she often had to repeat once she stepped her toe back into the dating pond. It was not that Charlotte was self-centered, she preferred when things were not about her. But she had to learn and unlearn a lot where relationships were concerned by the time her rugged path led her to Michael. One of those things being that not every negative emotion or reaction from her partner meant she had done something wrong or would lead to harm. It had been a tough one to unlearn but she was all the better and stronger for it.

While Michael tended to be in good spirits most of the time, she knew he was not immune to a bad day like every human being and those bad days were not an indictment against her. He just came off shooting a character that was so unlike him, a grueling training and filming schedule, and a long flight. He earned some alone time and some space to decompress if he wanted, she decided quickly.

“I’m gonna unpack his stuff. I was going to take him out to dinner but I think we’ll just order in so he can get some rest… cool with you two?”

His mom shook her head. “We actually are going over to Jamila’s house for dinner. Figured you two would want the house to yourselves for a bit.”

Charlotte’s heart warmed at their thoughtfulness. Before she and Bakari got married, she had always questioned whether living with her in-laws would be awkward or uncomfortable. However, they were both so attuned to giving she and Bakari their space as a married couple and never overstepped. Now, Charlotte would fight tooth and nail to keep them around.

“Love you SO much… Thanks!” She squeezed Donna’s hand before treading the same path up their stairs to their master. She made a mental note to stay positive and to focus on getting him whatever he needed so that once he got some rest, they would get back on track later that evening.

However, that proved to be wishful thinking. Charlotte felt like she was a ghost in her own home, barely corporeal and visible to his eye. And when he did speak, part of her wished he hadn’t. There was a sharp edge to his words now, even his clipped responses carried annoyance like he wished he did not have to talk to her.

By the time she was ready to retreat to bed, Charlotte was almost excited for the forced silence of sleep. She was slightly disheartened though as her thoughts drifted to the lace lingerie hanging in her closet that she bought particularly for this moment that would go unused. It was black with gold detailing to match his former character’s Golden Jaguar suit, a detail she had gotten from a spy or two on set. She had strongly considered still putting it on and entice him. However, he did not seem to want any physical affection and she had felt enough rejection from him for the day.

Maybe tomorrow night, she reasoned as they both slid into bed.

When he turned off the light on his side, she offered him an ‘I love you,” and a kiss on the cheek. However, neither were reciprocated nor did he ease back into their usual sleeping position with half of his body draped on top of her. No, instead he slept on the edge of their shared bed with his back to her.

As his light snores filled her ears, Charlotte barely slept as she prayed her husband’s off day was merely a one-time issue and he would be back to his usual jovial self tomorrow. Somehow, despite the warm body next to her, their bed felt cold as ever. And she was no stranger to coldness in a relationship, that dreadful feeling of loneliness when someone was there with you. In fact, in her experience, coldness and indifference were a step up from her ex’s usual behavior. But she was not accustom to such coldness from Bakari. Warmth was she knew with him, all he had ever been. Even on the rare occasions when he was angry, he never acted as if she was a burden or as if he did not wish to be around her. And that was all she felt today: that coldness and the sharp edge of rejection. How else was she supposed to feel when, after three months apart, the love of her life acted as if he did not want to see her? But as she laid there, she still held on tight to her optimism. She vowed not to read too much into it or let it get to her too much.

She sighed before turning over to face the wall away from him and close her eyes.

Tomorrow, he’ll be back to normal, she thought to herself. He has to be.

***

Charlotte shifted in bed, her hand reaching out to find the warmth that was her husband only to be me with the uncomfortable cold of an empty bed.

“This nigga,” she whispered, rolling her eyes. She knew exactly where her husband was, where he had been almost every night and day since he returned home from Atlanta four weeks prior.

She swung her legs out of bed and grabbed her robe, tying it tightly around her waist as she made her way through the darkness to her husband’s ‘man cave,’ which housed all his gadgets and toys. She scratched her head, her reddish-brown curls wild and untamed around her as she had accidentally pushed her scarf off in her restless sleep. She was not surprised to find him playing Call of Duty, the loud gunshots and bangs from the game mixing with the sound from an episode from some anime she did not recognize on the other screen.

“Babe… Babe. Bakari!” She called his name several times, the annoyance in her tone increasing each time she had to repeat herself.

“What?”

Charlotte was slightly taken back by his tone and that his eyes did not leave his stupid video game to even acknowledge her presence. However, it did not deter her as she crossed the room to stand behind him. Her hands went to his rub his shoulders, only stilling when she felt him flinch beneath her touch and shrug her hands off of him. She supposed she should be used to the bite of rejection from him these days, but it still stung. Her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection as if to fight the instinct to touch him again.

“I-I just wanted to see if you were coming to bed soon. It’s like 3 am.”She knew her words sounded needy but she did not care. She missed her husband.

He immediately shook his head, wholly uninterested in retreating to the warmth of his shared bed with his wife. “Nah, not for a while.”

Charlotte’s whole body seemed to sag in disappointment, her shoulders hunching over as sadness spread throughout her. She knew she had been foolish for being so hopeful… hopeful that he would return to bed and hopeful that he would return to the man who left here in February.

It seemed as though, since he wrapped filming Black Panther, he had little time or interest in being with her or his family. He holed up in his cave in the basement for 90% of the day, only exiting when he had no choice. And even then, it was clear to everyone that he was suffering through their company. His behavior was odd for everyone in their household and their family. Michael was typically the conversationalist but everyone was struggling to pull two words out of him lately and those two words felt like an Olympic feat. She could count on two hands the amount of true conversations they had had since he returned home. And it was not just his isolation from her and his family, which she could, at least, make excuses for. She had also never seen him so short and quick to anger. Usually, he was the calm one, the one who could jump in and diffuse a situation. But now, rage seemed to live just beneath the surface and it only took one out-of-place word for it to spring forward.

It only took her a few days to recognize what was truly happening. It was the character bleeding through, the toxicity that was Erik Stevens tainting the waters of Michael B. Jordan. And the more she recalled the small tidbits of information she knew about the character he played, the more his behavior now and while he was shooting made sense. However, that did not make it any less anxiety-inducing and frustrating for her. Especially when it was not 24/7. There were certainly moments were she thought her husband was finally back fully. He was actually initiated conversation with her and laughed and joked around. However, those were always shorted lived as Erik seemed to rear his ugly head every time eventually, causing him to ignore her or retreat to his corner of the house. And she hated it, hated this Jekyll and Hyde rollercoaster she felt forced into enduring day in and day out. This ‘Erik-Michael’ hybrid was not the man she married and pledged her life to. But he seemed to have no desire to go back to who he was.

“Damn… You could’ve just stayed in Atlanta if you were gonna stay holed up in here all day and night,” she mumbled to herself, her own frustration getting the better of her.

“The fuck you just say?” He threw down his controller and stood up, the loud clanging to the ground causing Charlotte to jump slightly. However, his outburst did not deter her.

“I said, ‘you could’ve just stayed in Atlanta if you were gonna act like you don’t have a wife and family here.’ I mean what the fuck is wrong with you, Bakari? Like I know it can be hard to shake a character, trust me, I’ve been there. But this is getting fucking ridiculous.”

He rolled his eyes and took another gulp from his glass of scotch. “Always comin’ in here with some bullshit.”

“See - that right there. Since when do you speak to me like that?? I don’t know what’s going on with you babe but this ain’t ok.”

He shook his head. “I’m good. Don’t worry about it.”

She scoffed, “I’m not an idiot, Michael. This,” she gestured to him, “This isn’t you! You don’t let me touch you,” she started listing all of the grievances that had built up over the last month. “You only let me close to you when you want to have sex. You’re fucking mean a-and aggressive to everyone. You barely speak to me and when you do, you act like you can’t fucking stand it. I’m worried about you! Because this isn’t healthy. And I’m worried about our marriage when you’re treating me like you don’t fucking care about me at all. I need you to tell me what is going on???”

By the time she stopped talking, she was shouting, her chest heaving lightly with her frustration.

“MAYBE I DON’T CARE!” He yelled at her, his anger at her perceived attack boiling over to uncontrollable levels. Part of him knew she was right. However, hearing his behavior repeated back to him only increased his shame at the fact that he could not shake whatever this was. And that only increased his rage at himself, which he felt like could only be directed at one person: his wife. The words flowed from his mouth like vomit. He did not even know what he was saying until it was too late. “Maybe I don’t give a fuck about you or anyone else! This is the real fucking me. I got every right to be fucking angry if I want to be and I don’t give a fuck what you or anyone else thinks about it!”

The retort bubbling to the surface immediately died in her throat as his words hit her. She did not try to hide the tears that immediately sprang to her eyes as she stared at him. The back of her hand hastily wiped the falling tears away. She had never expected words so callous to come out of his mouth of all people. She could not fully even formulate thoughts, let alone a sentence, as his refrain just repeated in her brain over and over.

Michael immediately regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, especially since they were farthest from the truth. For the first time in a long time, he felt the spirit of Killmonger subside, even just for a moment. And he could finally see the damage he had left behind in his wake.

“Babe-“ he immediately raced up to her and touched her arm, immediately stopping when she flinched at his touch and stepped back away from him.

“Don’t…” her voice cracked as a small sob escaped her lips. “D-don’t touch me.”

She turned on her heels and raced out of the room, her eyes blurred in the darkness as she made her way, not to the bed she shared with Michael, but to a guest room on the other side of the house. She locked the door immediately and crumpled down to the floor, her body hunched over from the strength of her sobs.

The sound of her quiet crying as she left the room stayed with Michael, playing a torturous loop in his mind long after he was alone. He had never been so angry or disappointed in himself. He threw the glass in his hand across the room and knocked everything on the coffee table across from his couch to the floor. The shattering sounds did nothing to appease him.

He did not know what the fuck was wrong with him. Killmonger was dead but it seemed as if he was determined to not let Michael go. Every time he tried to lay the character to rest, Killmonger resisted, feeding on his insecurities, his pain, his anger, and every other negative emotion Michael usually had a handle on. Everything that he usually was able to diminish, Killmonger forced to the surface and amplified to new extremes. Nights like tonight there was only Killmonger and his ‘I have no one and nothing but my revenge’ attitude that Michael just could not shake.

But Michael had someone… several someones who loved and cared about him. He did not know why he had routinely pushed them all away over the last few weeks. And now he had done significant harm to the one person he loved more than any other person on Earth.

And he had no idea how to fix it… or if it was even fixable at all.

***

Charlotte hummed quietly along with her music as she packed her suitcase, her song only interrupted by her quietly talking to herself as she went over her checklist.

“Where you goin’”

Charlotte glanced up from her suitcase to find her husband standing in the doorway staring at her. The cold front in the Jordan household had been reduced to Arctic levels since their blowout argument two days prior. Michael had considered apologizing but his shame only pushed him farther into isolation. He could barely look at Charlotte and every time he tried to say something, a voice in his head overpowered his good sense and stopped him. And Charlotte, in turn, refused to speak to him.

So the couple existed in near silence ever since. Unless his parents prompted conversation or the pair had to discuss something important, they simply acted as if the other was not there. Charlotte had even moved out of their bedroom, sleeping in a guest room down the hall to avoid him.

“I’m going to New York.” She continued packing and gathering her things so she could close her bag. She did not even look at him to see the confused expression on his face.

“I thought we were supposed to be going in a few weeks before the Tonys.”

Charlotte nodded. Charlotte had work to attend to in the city and since they both loved NYC so much, they had planned to just go together in about two weeks and stay there until the Tony Awards. Michael had some time off before he had to start training again for Creed II so it would have been the perfect mini vacation for the pair. NYC was at the top of their shortlist of cities they did not visit without the other. And she was knowingly breaking that pact. However, it was, currently, the only city in the country she actually had something to do in and could stay busy while running away from her current problems.

“Yea but I just think I should go now. Gonna help workshop this new musical and get some other shit done. Car’ll be here in like 30 minutes.”

His eyes grew wide at how soon she was leaving. “You weren’t gon’ say shit?”

Still emotionally bruised from their argument two days prior, she could not stop her initial thought from escaping her lips. “Why would I? You don’t care, remember?”

Her eyes clenched shut as she heard the words settle in the space, immediately wishing she could stuff them back down her throat. When she opened her eyes she could see his whole body was tense, his face crestfallen. It was not her intention to make him feel bad. She knew her husband and knew he did not mean those words. But there was a petty part of her who wanted him to hear how deep his words cut.

However, it seemed to have the opposite effect. She could feel his energy shift, his defenses immediately rising as he felt attacked by her words.

“So what? You’re leavin’ me cause of some shit you know I didn’t fuckin’ mean?”

Charlotte rubbed her forehead. She was not interested in fighting with him.

“Nobody’s leaving you. I just… think we both need space. That seems to be what you wanted anyway? Time alone and away from me? Now you’ll have it. And maybe you can use the time to figure your shit out.”

“Figure what out?”

“What it is about this fucking character that you can’t shake? And why you can’t let him go? Because you can tell me you’re fine until you’re blue in the face but it isn’t true. And we both know it.”

Michael knew she was not wrong but slowly his Killmonger facade was slipping. Michael was the one holding the reigns now and Michael needed his wife… here with him.

“I don’t need space. You’re my fucking wife, Charlotte. I need you here.”

Charlotte let out a humorless laugh. “See I know I’m your wife, Bakari. But it isn’t clear to me right now that you know that or that you even know you have family and friends who love you. Cause you aren’t acting like it.” She paused before walking over to stand in front of him. Her hand went to his cheek and wiped away a tear that she did not even think he knew was falling.

“Look, I understand what you are going through… truly I do. I know what it is like to be you and in your skin and in your life but.. you have this other personality gnawing at your soul. It is hard a-and it takes work sometimes to let it go. B-but just because the actress in me understands this and empathizes with it doesn’t mean the wife in me can accept it. I don’t like who you are right now a-and I can’t accept how you’re treating me. I-I have no intention of leaving you, I promise. But I just can’t be here with you like this.”

Hearing that his wife did not want to be around him hurt worse than any physical wound ever could. He immediately wondered if his mood swings and behavior was triggering to her, something he had been far too in his own head to even consider.

“I’m so sorry for the other night. I didn’t mean it and you know I'd nev-”

“I know. Truly, I do,” she assured him. “You aren’t him, you're the farthest person from him I've ever met. A-and I know you didn’t mean what you said. B-but for the last few weeks, babe, I’ve been walking around on eggshells with you. Every day, afraid I’m about to set off a ticking time bomb. And even if all that bomb does is hurl words at me, it,” she choked back sob that caused her voice to crack. “It f-fucking hurts, babe. It hurts to feel lonely with you here. It hurts to not be able to love you or receive that love back. It hurts to feel constantly rejected. And… most of all, it hurts to see you in pain like this. I’m just exhausted, Michael.” Her words sounded as weary as she felt, fresh out of energy and options. If anything, she hoped this time apart would replenish her and him.

A buzzing from her watch pulled her attention from him. Her car was here.

She pulled her suitcase off of the bench at the end of their bed and grabbed her purse. She knew they both needed this but she did not expect it to hurt either of them as much as it did. The broken look on his face made her want to unpack her bag and stay exactly where she was. But she knew she couldn’t.

She dragged her feet toward their door, stopping to envelope him in a hug, the first hug in weeks that he actually returned with earnest. She kissed him on the cheek before pulling away, knowing if she lingered in his touch too long, she would not be able to leave.

“When will you be back?” He asked as she walked toward the door. Part of him was afraid to hear her answer.

She glanced back at him and shrugged. “Don't look so solemn, Bakari. Our marriage isn’t over. I’m with you to the end of the line. But that’s entirely up to you… let me know when my husband is back and Killmonger is dead and buried, and I’ll be on the first red eye back to you. And whatever you need to get him back, you tell me and I'll support you. I love you.”

She offered him one last smile before she met her driver in the hallway and handed him her stuff, leaving Michael alone in their bedroom.

“I love you too.”

Taglist: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @msniaimani @hi888888sworld

A/N: So… what do you think??? Charlotte has left for NYC, though she promises to come back. How can our favs come back from this? Do you think she should've let at all or stayed to work it out? What do you think Michael needs to do to get his shit together? Let me know your thoughts! Thanks for reading!

#michael b jordan x reader #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan #mbjedit #mbj fanfic #erik kilmonger x reader #Erik killmonger x reader #black writers #creed 3 #adonis creed #black panther #creed iii #michael b jordan fanfic #Michael b Jordan x oc

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