#where’s my chunky boy

[squeliy]

How it feels to see a skinny Frank

[fisheito]

yakuya in MY swamp? in MY ecosystem? no . i am still in disbelief. i hope you all know that my particles are bouncing off the everything. i am using periods as punctuation but the state of my mind is naught neareth final.

[gracieheartspedro]

For Cryin’ Out Loud

pairing: post-outbreak! joel miller x afab! reader

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

word count: 7.9k

description: living with joel is complicated, especially when you can’t sleep due to nightmares. when you find yourself in his bed, you can’t help yourself. but joel sure can. give him a day to mull it over.

warnings: pretty slow burn, kinda forced proximity, kinda angsty, unspecified age gap (don’t like it, don’t read it), joel gives you tons of nicknames (darlin’, kiddo, etc.), discussions of nightmares and possible mental illnesses, some fluff, reader isn’t really described, joel is kinda a gaslighter, he’s also a bit pervy, unprotected p in v (wrap it y’all), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, joel like worships you!!!!!, joel licks his fingers clean, giving genitalia pronouns, joel’s a big boy. think that’s it. lemme know what I missed!

author’s note: I really enjoyed writing this. the idea is pretty simple but I love domestic jackson!joel. I promise i’ll try to switch it up soon and write something that isn’t jackson!era lol. support your fav fics by reblogging and commenting!! thanks love ya <3

For some reason, you always find yourself standing at the threshold of the front door when you cannot sleep. 

The air was especially brisk tonight. You wrapped yourself in a gray chunky sweater you found in the lost and found in Jackson’s thrift store, hoping to regain some warmth. Your bed may have been comfortable, but it was the place where nightmares usually plagued you. 

It was too late to be awake, and you knew that if you were caught, you would hear it from Joel. He always reprimanded you. Every time he caught you up late, it was like your father woke up and found your hand in the cookie jar. 

The dynamic between you two had changed since arriving in Jackson, and you almost resented him for it. When it was just you, him, and Ellie, you were managing a family unit. Joel was always the protective father, you being the mom or the voice of reason, and Ellie being chaos. 

When Ellie and Joel’s relationship shifted, he took on a fatherly role for you. It bothered you. A lot. 

In a moment of contemplation, you hear footsteps coming down the steps behind you. 

He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and no shirt, his hairy tummy something you did not see often. 

“What are you doing awake?” He questions, his voice groggy with a twinge of annoyance. 

You do not feel like explaining yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without a justification. 

You huff, leaning your back against the door frame so you can get a full look at the broad man. “Can’t sleep. Thought staring into the darkness would help.”

He grunts, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s that workin’ for you, sweetheart?”

You could not close your eyes without the haunting dreams that seemed lively and so real. Every night, you had the same recurring ones. You were being chased, hunted, or murdered. Or all of the above. You would wake in a cold sweat, not wanting to shut your eyelids ever again. 

“Hm,” You say, staring back outside for a brief moment, “‘Was better when you weren’t looking over my shoulder.”

He chuckles, “Get back to bed.”

“I can’t, Joel.”

“You can and will. You’re no good when you’re tired.”

“If I close my eyes, Joel, I will just have the same goddamn nightmares I have every night. And I will end up doing what I’m doing now, which is trying to get some fresh air to forget them.”

“You’re not gonna forget ‘em with some fresh air. You just need to… get over them.”

The breeze picks up as soon as he says it, almost like the world knew the tension would have to be broken with some frigid air. You retort with, “And how do you get over yours?”

"I just accept them," he says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I don't have time to dwell on them. There's always more important things to worry about."

"I'm more tired in the morning when I just endure them." You explain, trying not to cry about it. But you are so sick of them. The same thing every night.

“I get it. One day they will subside, I’m sure of it. But for now, you gotta-”

You just want him to shut up. At the same time, your mind is trying to remember the last time you did not have a nightmare. The memory makes your stomach churn. “You remember that one time we were forced to share that sleeping bag? Back in Pittsburgh?”

“Yeah,” His tone was wary, “What about it?”

"That was the first night I didn't have it." You explain, your voice a bit shaking at the insinuation. You don’t want to face the fact that Joel, the man that you have known for going on 10 years, kept your nightmares at bay. The same man who continuously rejected you and told you that he was old enough to be your dad. The same man that told you no, I don’t like you like that. I never will. That Joel. 

“And? Why are you bringing this up now?”

"Because every night I go to my bed and I'm forced to face them alone. When you were there... they didn't even bother holding my mind hostage.”

He took another step closer, closing some of the distance between you two. He towers over you and you can’t help but stare up at him in awe. Joel has always been a complicated part of your life. You consider him your sexual awakening, honestly, but he will never ever know that. Over the years, he’s only gotten more handsome. 

But now, he has a curious expression written all over his face.

"Are you saying you want to share a bed with me?" he asks, his voice gruff and low.

You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to answer. You knew that was stepping over a boundary for Joel. He liked his space. He didn’t like you impeding on that space, especially. Your bedroom was the furthest away from his for a reason.

"I don't know." You manage to say.

Joel's gaze darkened, his expression was completely unreadable. You wish you could read his mind, but you should be grateful you can not. 

Because in Joel’s mind, he’s trying to formulate a way to convince you to stay away from him altogether. The wall he has built over the last decade was intentional. He did not want to hurt you any further. He already knew you had feelings for him, but he was an old man. He did not want to drag you into his mess, all the baggage he carried. He looked after you, he shared a home with you, and that’s it. Strictly platonic. 

He shifted on his feet a little, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You shook like a little leaf.

"You don't know?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble.

You nod, "I don't know if I want that."

You do want that. But you want more, too. You knew you would be playing with fire. You would just be disappointed. 

Joel’s temptations are buried deep but they still fester every now and again. Some days he would catch a glance at you getting dressed in the crack of your door and have to take a cold shower. As soon as he felt those emotions bubble in his chest, he would try to distract himself. Maybe he would take a longer patrol. Maybe he would go to the Tipsy Bison and try to find a woman to take home. That one never really worked. 

“Well, what do you want then? Because standin’ at the door and letting all the cold air in ain’t gonna work for me or you.”

You look down at your picked-over fingernails and contemplate your next sentence. You don't want to be heartbroken in the morning when you wake up and he's there sleeping peacefully next to you and you're not... his.

"I want to sleep with you."

Joel was not expecting such a blunt response from you, but he appreciated you not beating around the bush about it. He gestures for you to step out of the doorway so he can shut the door, which you do. 

He looked down at you, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the exhaustion and uncertainty. 

"You sure?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

You just nod as he locks the front door. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Joel couldn’t believe it either. Maybe it was the tiredness or the instincts he felt to protect you, but he was not mad at the idea of sharing his bed with you. 

You signal for him to go upstairs, “You lead the way.”

-

Joel’s room was always off-limits to you. So when you step into his small little world, you take it all in. 

The artwork around the room was mainly nature landscapes. He had a big dresser right at the room's entrance with picture frames of Sarah, Ellie, and other family members. You were even included in one photo—a picture of you and him on some horses from last year. 

A shirt littered one side of the bed, so you took that as it was probably his side. Unfortunately for you, it was the right side. You felt a pang of guilt realizing you would probably end up restlessly lying in Joel’s bed if you were stuck on the left. 

Before he can pull back the blanket for himself, you stop him. 

“Uh, can I sleep on that side?”

He completely halts in his motions, turning his head towards you with a blank expression. “My side? Why?”

You lick your lips, already regretting this whole thing. 

“Because I have had this superstition since I was a kid that I could only sleep on the right side of the bed."

Joel wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He can tell you are at war in your head about the question, your expression practically anticipating his rejection. 

"Superstitions, huh?" he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips."You and your weird beliefs."

You watch as he crosses to the other side of the bed and lifts the blanket. Is he actually letting you have his side? Maybe he doesn’t hate you. 

“You could also call it a compulsion, but superstitions seem more fun and less like a mental illness.”

He laughs this time, his deep chuckle making you feel a bit more relaxed about the situation. You did not feel like a burden as much. You walk to the right side and pull back his navy blue sheets and blanket. The spot looks warm and inviting so when you crawl in next to Joel, you start to realize that you’re back in the same situation you were in years ago in that sleeping bag. He was so close and warm and you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and keep you comfortable.

But then another thing came to mind before you could imagine his arms around you. 

You usually sleep on your right side or back, but now you don't know what to do because you didn't know how Joel slept.

"Do you sleep on your side or back?"

Joel studies you as you fidget beside him, your uncertainty causing him to smirk slightly. It was almost endearing, seeing you be completely out of control of your surroundings. He remembers back when you were traveling with him you had an obsessive need to straighten up everything before you fell asleep. You had to roll yourself up in your sleeping bag the same way every night. 

"Usually on my back," he said finally. "But I can sleep on my side, too."

You swallow, trying to picture yourself sleeping. For some reason you felt the urge to have control of the situation, dictating exactly how he has to sleep, too. "Can I... I'll sleep on my side if you can sleep on your back? Is that okay?"

Joel had to suppress a smirk at your request. You knew he was trying to hold back a snarky remark. Instead, he surprises you.

"Sure, you can sleep on your side," he agreed, shifting his body weight onto his back, "’n I'll sleep on my back. No big deal."

You turn to face him, tucking the pillow further under your head. You can tell his eyes are heavy from exhaustion. You know it's time to shut up, to go to sleep, but you feel the need to say something else to him. Sometimes your brain concocts questions and statements and you know you shouldn’t say them, but your mouth betrays you.  

"When was the last time you had a girl in your bed?"

Why the fuck would you ask that? You think to yourself. It fell out of your mouth like drool.

Joel's eyes widened at your blunt question, surprise and a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. You knew he was probably just expecting you to lay here next to him, maybe roll around a bit, then sleep. But instead, it’s an interrogation.

He took a deep breath, his mind rattling around as he tried to think of a response. He didn't want to admit what his genuine answer was to you, but he too could not help himself.

"Why do you want to know that?" he asks, his voice steely.

You hate that he even responded because now you needed to defend yourself.

"I uh, don't know. I don't know why it matters."

Joel chuckled softly, noting that you probably just had a case of word vomit. You always told him you were infamous for putting your foot in your mouth, especially in awkward situations.

"Curiosity got the better of you, huh?" he asks, rubbing his face with his hands. “You just can’t help yourself, sweetheart.”

He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to face you, his gaze studying your expression.

You smirk, grateful that he's letting it slide. When he turns onto his side and he's at eye level with you, your face drops a bit. He is ruining the vision in your head. He’s throwing a wrench in your plans.

"You're supposed to be on your back, sir."

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your comment. He knew he was supposed to be on his back, but the new angle allowed him to see you better in the faint moonlight.

"Don't worry," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. "I'll turn back over in a minute. Just... enjoying the view for a bit."

You roll your eyes, lifting your hands from under the covers and lightly hitting his arm. You knew he was just fucking with you now. 

"Okay, for that, I want to know the answer to my stupid question."

Joel let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He shook his head, amused by your persistence. You start to think about it and you have never really seen him bring anyone home. Maybe it had been a very long time and he was embarrassed. 

"Alright, alright," he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Last time I had a girl in my bed..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to the covers, his mind racing to find the right words.

"Go on..."

Joel took another deep breath, his voice dropping even lower as he spoke.

"It's been a long time, kiddo," he admitted, his voice pierced with a bit of shame. "Almost ten years, if I'm being honest."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "No way... You've never just... got it on with someone in bed?"

Joel's face flushed with embarrassment at your blunt question, a mix of shock and slight irritation flashing across his eyes.

"Jesus, you really don't hold back, do ya?" he muttered. He shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable in a different way. He hadn't expected the conversation to turn so personal, so quickly and he did not want to face you anymore. He was mortified. 

You mentally slap yourself in the face.

"I'm sorry, I am just tired and delusional. Uh, you don't have to answer that."

Joel could practically feel the humiliation radiating off you and he too felt the exact same way. You knew how to add to an already awkward situation.

"No, no, it's fine," he reassured you, his voice a bit gentler now. "I get it. You're tired, and your filter has taken a backseat."

"Yeah, exactly..."

He shifted on the bed, turning onto his back again, his gaze shifting to the ceiling, avoiding your curious stare.

You could not help but stare at his side profile. A prominent straight nose. His downturned lips are surrounded by some fine lines that show his age. He was a beautiful man now, but you can’t help but imagine him back in his 20s. He had to have been a hit with the ladies back then.

Joel could feel your gaze on him, studying his face. And while you were not scrutinizing him, he felt like a commodity in a museum or something.  He forced himself to keep his gaze on the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes.

"So… ten years and no sex?”

You could seriously, not help yourself.

"Correct.” He grumbles, still not meeting your stare.

"Damn, Joel." You mutter, adjusting a bit to sit up a little more on your pillow. "I seriously thought you were sleeping around the whole time we have been in Jackson.”

He finally turns your way, a bit of offense on his face. “Why would you think that?”

You shrug, not wanting to insult him. But that’s how you formulated your grudge towards him. It was easy to just chalk everything up to problems with random women you have seen around town. 

“You just give off the energy…”

“What?”

You huff, laying back on the pillow. “I don’t know, Joel! I feel like when I’m around you all the ladies think you’re handsome. They stare.”

“They are staring because you’re always following me around and we aren’t married or… together. They think we are odd.” 

You had never heard such things around Jackson, but it does sort of make sense. Everyone was probably just confused because you two lived together but were not a couple. You can admit it is bizarre, but it just did not feel like an option any other way, in your mind. So Tommy gave you two a bigger house and you set up separate rooms. 

But in actuality, Joel secretly told Tommy that he did not want you too far from him. So when Tommy couldn’t give you any other houses nearby, Joel just told him that you two would be roommates.

“Well fuck ‘em.” You mutter, trying not to sound too offended by the thought of people gossiping about you two.

Joel just nods. You settle by tucking your arm under your pillow. You yawn, the exhaustion now taking over your body. You watch Joel grab a pair of reading glasses from the side table and a book. You decide not to bother him, especially because he probably wanted to just read himself to sleep instead of being interrogated by you any further.

You close your eyes and eventually fall asleep. The deeper you get, Joel notices how your breathing pattern changes. When he’s finally ready to get some shut-eye as well, he watches as your body crawls closer to him. Your arm swings over his stomach and rests on his forearm. He is so shocked he does not move a muscle. 

You adjust some more, not knowing what you are doing. Your leg creeps up and tucks right between his. You snuggle your face right into his chest. The only movement Joel decides to make is slinging his arm over your shoulders to pull you in tighter. 

It’s the first time in years that you two slept soundly, with no interruptions. No nightmares, no sudden intrusions, nothing. Silence and snores fill the room and that’s it.

-

When you wake up, it’s slow and gradual. Your brain hardly computes that you’re laying on top of Joel’s shirtless frame, until your hand runs across his warm tummy. 

You crook your neck up, looking at the handsome man you are spreading across. 

His lips are slightly ajar, letting out hardly-there snores. They are so pretty and pink and you cannot help but touch them with feather-like fingertips. You would feel so guilty waking him up-

His eyes slowly open taking notice of your actions even though you tried not to stir him. Your eyes fly open in shock, but he does not seem very annoyed. He smiles. 

“Mornin’ darlin’,” He says in a deep sleep-laced voice. You smile back at him, loving that he decided to call you the nickname you always got giddy over. You press your fingers into his chest before replying.

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

His hand comes up from your shoulders and tucks some hair behind your ear as he stares down at you, “That’s good kiddo. I’m glad you slept well.”

The intimacy is almost too much. The way this is how it would be if you woke up to Joel every morning. It sends your brain into overdrive and you force yourself to ruin it a bit.

“Woulda slept even better if you didn’t talk so much in your sleep.”

Joel froze for a moment, his cheeks immediately flushing pink with embarrassment. He sits up a bit more, adjusting to the brighter lighting in his room. He knew he had a problem with talking in his sleep. Ellie used to talk about it all the time. He dreaded hearing what he was saying while curled up next to you.

"Uh... what did I say?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"Something about it felt so good to be pressed up against someone, I don't know..." 

You could not help yourself and started to laugh. You knew you were going to get a rise out of him. 

Joel's face flushed an even deeper shade of pink as you started to laugh, clearly amused by your joke. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an excuse. He was just dreaming, it was not about you. 

"W-what?" he spluttered out instead of making an excuse. "I didn't... I didn't say anything like that."

You have a shit-eating grin on your face and you press your hands on his chest to prop yourself up. You enjoyed watching him squirm.

Joel's eyes flickered down to your hands on his chest. He sickly thought they felt so right placed there. He imagined what you would look like fully mounting him. 

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but you could see through his stone-cold exterior.

"You're messing with me, aren't you?" he grumbled, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Fully fuckin' with you." You giggle, hoping he is not really that mad at you. 

“You’re a brat.”

You move your foot slightly, running it up his leg. It sends shockwaves up his body, having you so close and moving around so seamlessly. 

"No, you said something about how beautiful, alluring, and incredible I am. Said I was the girl of your dreams…"

"Yeah, right," he said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. "You expect me to believe that?"

"So, you don't believe me?"

"No, I don't believe you," he says, his voice stern but playful. "I think you're a dirty little liar, trying to play me for a fool."

"A dirty little liar, huh? Well, it's good to know that you don't think I'm beautiful, alluring, and incredible." You giggle at his acknowledgment, knowing he caught you red-handed.

"Oh, I never said that," he smirked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You are all of those things, darlin’. But you're also a dirty little liar who likes to play games."

"So you think I'm beautiful?" You crack, the biggest smile painted on your face. You don’t even care that he’s calling you a liar because it does not matter. Joel thinks you are beautiful. 

“‘Course I do.”

You push yourself up onto your butt, sitting crisscross next to him. He secretly wishes you were still curled up on top of him. 

“You always this nice in the morning?” You ponder, your fingertips starting to toy with the hair on his stomach. He tries not to pay mind to it, letting you have full access to touch him. 

But it’s driving him insane. The way you look freshly woken up, completely enamored with the idea of him calling you beautiful. You have some puffiness under your eyes and your lips are more swollen than usual.

“I am always nice to you.”

You let out a scoff, “No, you’re not.”

He notices the shift in your tone and starts to get defensive, “Now you’re just lyin’.” 

Joel always loved to gaslight you in these situations. You knew better than to let him get away with it, especially now. “No there was that one time you told me you did not like me and that you would never like me. How you are old enough to be my dad-”

“Because I am!”

And there’s the wall. The only constant in you two’s relationship. He was so good at throwing it up when feelings were being expressed. When vulnerability was presented, Joel could not help but reject it. 

“And the world’s fuckin’ ended, Joel! Big deal!” You almost yell, moving your hands from him. 

Why does he already miss your hands?

He huffs, crossing his arms over his soft chest. “We have had this conversation for the last 10 years.’M not sure why we keep rehashing it.”

“And every time you turn me down it’s another fuckin’ stab in the heart.”

“You know why we can’t,” He practically growls. You can not stand to even look at him anymore with your bitterness and irritation taking over. 

“Whatever, Joel.” 

As soon as you say it, you’re already leaving his room and heading to your own. When you slam the door, you hope you have made your point. You want to scream and punch a hole in the wall, but instead you just furiously stomp around the room and grab your clothes. You had patrol at noon, so you needed to get to the mess hall before breakfast was over. You try not to cry as you strip down and get dressed.

Joel sits in bed, reeling. He hates that it has become a conversation every six months. He hated that rejecting you always sent you into a spiral of hating him for extended periods. It’s not that he did not want you, it was simply just not in the cards. He was too old to be in love. He was too old to play house with you. He just could not submit to the idea of leading you on, especially because you had so much more life to live. 

He finally works up the courage to get out of bed and put on some clothes. He opts for putting on his typical jeans and thick flannel. It was getting colder and he knew by the end of the winter, you would end up with half his flannels anyway, so he had to enjoy them while he had them. 

You storm downstairs, going to the back door for your boots when you spot him in the kitchen. 

“You got pat-”

“Yes.” You respond quickly, shoving your foot into your shoes. He stands behind you with a mug full of tea, watching your every move. 

“Who are you-”

“Jesse.”

He was asking his usual questions, which you were not in the mood to answer. 

“Hey, can you-”

You snap your head back at him, giving him the glare you gave him as a warning usually. By now, he takes it as a hint and backs off. But not this time. 

“Can I what?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you fuckin’ not be a brat about this?”

You wish your glare came with knives. If that were the case, Joel Miller would be dead on his kitchen floor. 

You are so thrown off by the question that you just watch him get angrier when you do not respond. 

“Are you serious, right now?” You press, keeping your voice from cracking. 

He brings the mug up to his mouth, taking an obnoxious sip. When he pulls the mug away, you notice how steaming it is. “You always pull this shit-”

“No, you do! You do this shit to me every fuckin’ time, Joel. You sweet talk me, make me feel comfortable, have me lapping everything up in the palm of your hands, and then you snatch it away. Then have the audacity to get mad at me!”

You are yelling now and it is throwing him off. Joel knows better than to interrupt you like you do to him. You were the kind of person who would calm down if you felt heard. 

The way he knew you down to your core made this all so painful. Because if he was not so stubborn and true to his convictions, he would have fucked you the moment you touched his lips this morning. 

“I ain’t tryin’ to make this harder than-” “Too fuckin’ late.”

You think back to the moment last night when you knew you were going to hurt your own feelings by sleeping with him. You knew better, yet here you are, still blaming him for your stupidity.

He stands there, still holding his mug, staring you down like a wounded doe who got pierced with an arrow. He feels guilty like he misled you. Before he can say anything, you are lacing up your boots and leaving out the front door without another word. 

-

All day long, Joel wanders around the house trying to get rid of the pit in his stomach. Nothing works. A shower. Reading a book. Cutting wood. As soon as he tried to use laundry as a distraction, he reached into his hamper and found one of your t-shirts. He held it close and smelled it, trying to wrap his head around how he got here. 

You spend all day, silently fuming on horseback with Jesse. When he tries to get you to open up, you ice him out and tell him to focus on the trail in front of him. 

You get back by sundown, the sun setting making it a lot chiller than you expected. You decide to take the long way home, wanting to avoid being home for as long as possible. You were not ready to face Joel, let alone share a space with him. But unfortunately, during your patrol, you fell into some mud and needed a shower. The more time it spent on your clothes and body, the grosser you felt. 

You open the front door, announcing that you are home. It was a habit you and Joel developed after you both pulled guns on each other during late-night arrivals. 

You hear Joel mumble something from the living room, but you do not stop to listen and continue on your way upstairs to the bathroom. 

You strip down as soon as the door is closed, tossing your muddy clothing into a hamper in the corner. You would get them washed and hung as soon as you shower off. 

You hear Joel’s footsteps creaking around the upstairs hallway as you scrub your body with homemade soap and warm water. 

When you start to dry yourself off, you hear Joel grunting something in the hallway. You wrap yourself in a towel and peek your head out the door. He’s on his hands and knees wiping something off the hardwood. “What’s goin’ on?”

He looks up at you, your body only covered in a bleach-stained blue towel. It makes his head spin. He can’t even be mad that you tracked in mud. 

He swallows, gripping the cloth he’s using tighter. “You got mud everywhere.”

You step out, not even really thinking about the fact that you are not properly dressed in front of Joel. You were still mad at him, anyway. Who cares what he thinks?

“Sorry, I could’ve cleaned it up.”

He returns to wiping the wood, “It’s fine, I got it, kiddo.”

You accept his response and move on to your room, but the draft you leave behind drifts to Joel’s nostrils. Your soap smells like lavender and it always sends his mind racing when you are fresh from a shower. He clears his throat, trying to get through the emotions filling his chest. 

But it’s been like this all day. You’re all around him even when you’re not physically here. How can he get away from you? Why is he trying to run in the first place?

He’s on his knees in your hallway, cleaning up your mess, sniffing the air you leave behind because he’s fucking in love with you and he cannot help himself anymore. 

Joel starts to think about how peaceful he felt having you next to him last night and how he would love to feel that way every night. For once he’s not thinking about what everyone else would think. For once he’s thinking selfishly and caving into every desire he has ever pondered about you. How would you feel under him? How would your lips feel pressed against his pulse point? 

His body was on fire, thinking about you. 

You are fiddling with some clothes in your dresser after you flick on the overhead light. You do not hear him come into your room behind you. 

You are so wrapped up in your own thoughts that when he clears his throat to announce he’s in your room, you scream. Loud. 

“For cryin’ out loud, woman!” 

You grip your towel tighter when you turn and see him standing at your mercy. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, gesturing to the fact that you are practically naked. He does not care, of course, and his ears are ringing from your piercing scream. He gathers himself as you shift back, trying to create some distance from him.

He is trying not to gawk at the fact that your grip on the towel against your chest is only pushing up your cleavage. He’s biting back everything. “Can we talk?”

“Talk about what? The fact you crept into my room when I was trying to change? Are we past boundaries now?” 

You are pissed, trying not to rattle off another million things to discuss with him. He’s only really talking about one thing. 

He scoffs at your last statement. “Boundaries were already out the window when you crawled into bed with me last night.”

Silence fills the room as you completely stop breathing. The anger you originally felt dissipates. 

“Joel-“

“I ain’t doin’ this back and forth anymore,” He starts shifting in his spot, unsure if he really should be doing this. “I can’t live how I've been livin’. Somethin’s gotta give.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. 

“You are the one who won’t give, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, he practically drags himself over to you. Completely destitute. You have never seen him look so desperate before. You can tell that he’s been at war with himself ever since you left this morning. His eyes never lied.

His hand creeps up your bare arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

But then you remember his words from this morning. You start feeling like this is just a moment of weakness for him and that he will regret it later. You had to stop it before it was too late. You did not want to deal with the consequences. 

“Joel, you said we can’t-”

“Fuck what I said,” He cuts you off, “Do you want this?”

You stare into those brown eyes, searching for a sign of hesitance. You cannot believe Joel is being this vulnerable with you. 

But, you do want him. God, you have wanted him so badly for so long. You have searched for him in every man you have ever been with since knowing him. 

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. He takes note of your parted lips, every word failing you at that moment.

“Darlin’-”

“Yes,” You finally manage. “Yes, I do want this.”

It’s all he needs. He closes the gap between you two by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his space. His lips crash onto yours, not wasting another breath of air waiting to indulge in his sickest fantasies. 

You are all Joel ever dreamed about. He knew that once he caved and physically gave in, his world would be shot and everything would revolve around you. For years it had been a teetering object on a cliff, one nudge would have him falling. He always managed. But now, he was falling head first. 

His lips move so perfectly with your own. Your hand released your towel and found the tufts of his curls at the base of his head. You did not care that the article pooled around your feet, leaving you completely bare in front of Joel. You have wanted this all along. To be uncovered, to be stripped down to the rawest form. He broke the kiss briefly just to scan your naked body, his forehead pressed against your own. 

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

Your heart stutters as his hand traces your stomach down to your hips, all the way down to your ass. He stops there, grabbing a handful. 

“I need you,” You choke out before pressing your lips to his over and over again. “Right now.”

He mumbles “jump” into your mouth and you do so, his hands working quickly to hike you up onto his waist. He carries you to your bed, wasting no time dropping you onto your back. 

He cannot get enough of your soft, swollen lips. Every time he pulls away slightly, he dives in again even more aggressively than the last time. 

You are so hypnotized by the way he feels on top of you. In the light, he seems so much broader than he was last night. He’s still fully clothed, to your dismay. You start to tug at his shirt, motioning him to remove the articles that are in your way. 

He throws off his shirt before he stands up at the edge of the bed and pushes down his jeans. 

“Joel… I-“

He just shuts you up with another passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to melt into your mouth. Your hands trail up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, holding him down so he is pressing against your nude body. 

“God, I have wanted this for so long,” He sputters, trying not to sound too desperate. “Been wanting this.”

That’s when his hand reaches down between your thighs and gathers the wetness your slit has to offer. His fingers dance across it, starting from the top all the way to your spongy entrance. 

“Please, Joel.”

He loves the lust-laced tone you speak with when you say his name. It almost makes him cum there and then. 

You watch as he makes his way down your body, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your hip. When he parts your legs, you feel quite exposed. The adrenaline of being so spread for him manifests into a moan. 

“You are divine, baby.”

The use of that adjective is so-not-Joel that it makes you giggle. He notes your reaction and decides to sink down into you. When his mouth gets close to your core, it’s no longer a laughing matter. 

He uses his fingers again, using them to spread open your pussy lips. He cannot keep his eyes away from how dripping you are. “This all for me?”

“Y-yes, Joel.”

“God, I was a fuckin’ fool for so long. Could’ve had her earlier and I never fuckin’ caved. Such an idiot.”

Him giving your cunt pronouns was enough to have you throwing your head back and shuttering. His touch was magnetic like he knew exactly what buttons to push as he rubbed his fingers and palm over your core. 

“Yeah, you’ve been missin’ out. Every night…” You swallow before looking down at the man that is enamored with your pussy, “E-every night I would lay in this bed, fuckin’ myself just thinkin’ about you.”

He growls at the statement, before teasingly kissing your clit. “Every night, hm, kiddo?”

“God, yes.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as he leans forward more and dives in. His nose is pressed firmly against the top of your pussy, nudging forward every time his tongue enters your hole. When that motion became consistent, you began to note the rumblings in the pit of your stomach. A familiar build-up that you managed to get when you were playing with yourself. 

His fingers move in tandem with his lips and tongue. While his middle and pointer finger slide in and out of you, his lips wrap around your clit. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming. 

You do not know where to center yourself, so your hands grip the bed sheets you were completely soaking as Joel pulls the first orgasm out of you. 

“That’s it, baby, she’s cryin’ for me, hm?”

You hardly make a noise, the orgasm is so earth-shattering that you just writhe on the mattress. 

“Oh my god…” You groan, finally able to catch your breath. When Joel removes his fingers from you, you watch as he slowly brings them up to his lips.

When he inserts them in his mouth, you gawk at him, unsure how to react. He watches your expression and chuckles darkly.

“Mm, never seen a man enjoy the taste of ya?”

You shake your head. “Never expected to hear those words leave your mouth, either.”

“Wait ‘til you hear what else I got to say.”

He stands up beside the bed, grabs your hips, and brings them to the edge. He is tossing you around with ease, bringing your lower body flush with his. He yanks down his briefs, revealing himself to you. You instantly take notice of how well-endowed he is. You never thought you would ever be close to his cock, let alone have it lining up at your entrance. 

“Joel…“ You stop him with your small voice, but still welcoming him in with your legs opened wide, “I don’t know if it will fit.”

He grins, “It will, baby. Just relax for me, okay?”

You watch him slide his member along your center, the feeling so blissfully overstimulating. You whine a bit, raising your hips to his. 

But Joel continues his torture, enjoying the way you’re squirming under him. The way your eyebrows are knitted together, your eyes shut as you grind up into him. It’s the prettiest sight. 

“Ready?”

Your eyes fly open as you watch him ease his way into your core, the sound of squelching filling the room. You don’t think you have ever been this wet for someone. 

“Oh my fuckin’ god, Joel…”

He smiles as he inches in, “Squeezin’ my cock so good, darlin’.”

When he’s fully sheathed inside, he tests the waters by drawing out slowly. You roll your hips in a circle, trying to feel out every inch of him. He fits, but you know once he starts to move faster, the stretch will become overwhelming. 

He’s trying to focus and not blow his load immediately. You look so beautiful below him, your tits slowly shifting back and forth every time he draws back and forth. He reaches out, wanting to feel the flesh between his fingers. God, he craved every inch of you, he realizes. 

You open your legs as far as you can, letting him hit you at a different angle. The movement allows him to slip in a bit more seamlessly, so when he speeds up his thrusts, you don’t feel like you will completely split in half. 

He brings your leg up to hips, and feeling your soft delicate skin against him makes him lose all sense. His hips snap faster the more you moan out for him. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, girl. I can’t believe I was missin’ out on this cunt,” He babbles, “Need this cunt every day from now on. Gonna have you all to myself every night.”

You are too fucked out of your mind to read into those implications.

“‘M all yours, Joel.”

He smiles, slowing down a bit. “Keep talkin’ like that and ‘ll finish a lot sooner than you.”

You sit up a bit, your eyes flickering over his entire body. He notices you checking out his nude frame, which makes him feel a bit more bold. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You love the way his tongue slips into your mouth so effortlessly. When he opens his mouth, his facial hair tickles your nose a bit which makes you smile. When his hips pick back up to a quicker pace, it sends you gasping into his mouth.

“Please, Joel,” You whine, that familiar build starts up but this time it’s like a freight train. Moving so quickly down every nerve ending in your body. “I’m gonna cum.”

“‘M with you, darlin’. Soak this dick. I’m right behind ya.”

His dirty talk causes the crash. Your body practically lifts off the mattress. You cry out so loud you are sure a neighbor could hear you. You try to gain your bearings, but you are panting like you just ran a mile. 

Joel fucks you through it, but the restriction your pussy is putting on his cock sends him over the edge. His hips stutter into yours, his seed emptying into your spent hole. He just keeps repeating your name as his thrusts slow down.

He has never had such a visceral orgasm in his life. His knees are weak and can hardly keep up his weight. He practically falls on top of you, which does not offend you at all. His warm sweaty body on top of you is almost reassuring. 

“You okay, kiddo?” He finally mutters as his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You just nod, bringing your hand up to his salt and pepper hair. You tug lightly, smiling to yourself. 

“I’m more than okay.”

He finally sits up, his cock spilling out of you as he adjusts his position. Your hole drips a mixture of cum onto your newly clean sheets, but you could care less. It’s just another thing to hand wash tonight.

Joel stumbles to the middle of the room, picking up your bath towel. He uses it to wipe himself up before coming over to you. Your legs are still slightly apart so he decides to clean you up a bit. He’s gentle, knowing that you are probably still sensitive.

Once he finishes up, he crawls next to you as you continue to recover. Your bones felt like jello so standing up to adjust yourself was not an option.

So instead of facing him, you stare up at your ceiling fan as his eyes lock onto every detail of your profile. It brings him back to one night you two shared under the stars a couple of years ago. It was his turn to keep watch so you curled up in your sleeping bag by the fire. He admired you from across the flames, the orange hues lit up every angle of your face. It was at that moment that Joel realized that he could not picture his life without you. You had weaseled your way into every facet of his life and he used to resent the impact you had on him. You were younger, more patient but still stubborn like him. You made him laugh, like genuinely laugh, for the first time since the infection. While you may have been a bit impulsive with your emotions, he envied the way you could say exactly what you were thinking. 

Joel did not want to love you, but it was impossible not to. 

You finally look over at him, noticing the softness in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” You pose, scrunching your nose. 

He gives you a toothless smile, his eyes crinkling a bit. “I just can’t wait to sleep next to you for the rest of my life.”

tags of people I love and who may wanna read (no pressure I just love u) (some of u did ask tho) : @ashleyfilm @hockeyhughes @pedrospookie @guiltyasdave @amanitacowboy @myownwholewildworld

[zodiacsea]

got to The Hug scene with astarion last night crying and screaming

[paint-the-walls-white]

I don't share

Pairing: Possessive!König x Fem!Reader

Summary: König doesn't like sharing you, which is exactly why you had been married for almost ten years and none of his comrades knew about you. At least, not until he drunkenly spilled the beans and you showed up the next day with a box of cookies..

Warnings: Bondage! MDom! Doggy! CreamPie! OverStim! Oral(M2F)!

König was very secretive of his personal life on account of his social anxiety. He had been transfered to Task Force 141 for a while and had made pretty good friends with them, but of course, one night TF141 was making fun of him while drinking and in his own drunken haze he blurted out something that didn't go unnoticed,

"If you keep making fun of my wife, I'll kill you. Oh wait, that sounded like a joke; I will actually kill you."

He was very protective and possessive of you, which you didn't mind in the slightest. But he had accidently revealed that he had a wife, and everyone kept pestering him about it.

"I bet she's a strong lass aye? Big as an Ox! Only person that makes sense fer a mountain" Soaps slurred comment made him scoff as König kept sipping on his vodka, aggravated and embarrassed.

"What she do fer a living König? She a construction worker or somethin?"

König looked at Gaz with bewilderment. "A construction worker? where the hell did you get that? Gott.. Nein she's a baker."

Even Ghost was muttering how she probably had massive arms to carry 8 trays at once of protein bars. König kept to himself the rest of the night before returning home to you.

"Hi mein Liebe, I'm home." He pressed a kiss on your forehead, stripping off his tactical vest and mask then kicking off his boots.

"How was your night with the boys? Was it fun?"

He lied down on top of you, burying his face in your chest, crushing your small frame as he huffed annoyed.

"Kept making fun of you...Arschlöcher.. kept sayin you were a big burly lady.."

You snorted, running your fingers through his hair. You told him to ignore them because they didn't know what they were talking about, they were just trying to get a rise out of him.

He sighed, content in your arms as he fell into a drunken sleep on top of you, the crushing pressure more than welcomed.

The next day you decided to surprise König on base with a little gift. The guards of course did not believe that you were his wife so you pulled out the marriage certificate and your spouse ID card to shove it in their face. They were gob smacked as they discovered he had a wife and informed you he was currently at the cantina.

You were directed where to go, a box of chocolate chip cookies in had as you made your way there. Once inside, the place gradually got quiet as you made your way over to your husband giddy as his back faced you.

König was currently berating his friends about making fun of you again until he noticed that they weren't even paying attention, they were looking behind him.

He turned, and there you were, barely meeting his eye level while he was sitting, a box of cookies in hand adorned in a pleated pink skirt and a white tank top with a knit sweater and chunky white heels.

"Surprise! I brought you cookies Liebe!"

The horror that flooded his gaze was unmatched. He quickly wrapped around you to hide you from onlookers, glaring in their direction.

"Mein Liebe, what are you doing here? You are for my eyes only!"

You pouted into him, pushing off of his chest, "I wanted to surprise you," His eyes softened and he huffed, turning to glare at the men at the table who were still gaping in your direction.

"Thas your wife König? The lass is like half your size!" Soap stared on in horror, you could tell what he was thinking about so you hid in his shirt.

"Let's go." He stood, throwing you over his shoulder and flattening your skirt over your ass. Your face was red as you tried to keep the box from being crushed, and you just stared down, completely embarrassed.

"König put me down!" You kicked your legs, trying to fight him off, but he just smacked your ass and carried you out of the cantina, everyone completely silent.

"What the hell just happened." Ghost shrugged at Soaps comment and just kept eating silently.

König had carried you all the way to his quarters, gently placing you on the bed. The blood had rushed to your head so you were bright red.

He knelt, taking off your shoes and rubbing at your sore feet.

"Why did you think this was a good idea mein Liebe? Hmm?"

"I just wanted to bring you a treat.. I thought you'd like seeing me here.."

König sighed, kissing your shin before he looked up at you with his piercing gaze.

"Lamm, I can't keep my eyes off of you, which means neither can other men. I'm the only one that gets to look at you. Du bist mein."

You huffed and averted your gaze, cheeks a bright pink as you handed him a cookie.

"Still, you didn't have to make a scene.." He simply chuckled and stood.

"I know you like it when I toss you around Liebling, you cant fool me. I know you loved the attention."

He caged you in on the bed, prompting you to lie on your back, legs hanging off the edge. You pulled up his mask to reveal his mouth and pressed your lips to his. König groaned softly, slanting his lips against yours, intensifying the kiss.

You moaned and panted into his mouth, whimpering at the flavor of his tongue against yours. He ran a hand up your thigh, squeezing your soft skin in his calloused hands.

He pulled away to attack your neck, sucking and biting at the exposed skin

"K-König.. what if someone sees-!"

"Don't care.. they need to know who you belong to... Du bist mein..."

You squirmed underneath him, far too excited at the attention he was giving you, especially when he slipped a finger under your panties and rubbed at your sloppy folds.

"Scheiße.. du bist so wet for me Liebe.."

You watched with dazed eyes as he slid off the bed onto his knees, dragging you to the edge of the bed where he ripped off your underwear and started sucking on your clit. You immediately grabbed at the fabric of his mask and threw your head back, arching into his mouth as you moaned loudly.

König quickly sunk two fingers into your wet cunt, rubbing at your sensitive walls as he fucked you with his hand. You met his gaze and whimpered as he continued eating you out like a starved man. He moaned against your pussy as you came on his hands and face, plenty of slick being absorbed into the fabric hiding his face.

A soft whine escaped as he cleaned up your mess with his tongue, savoring every drop of your arousal. He stood, sucking his fingers clean as he stared down at your spent form lying limply on the bed.

"Braves Mädchen.."

You lied there, staring at him as you tried to grasp a single thought after that mind blowing orgasm, but you just blushed when you noticed his dick straining against his pants.

"What is it Liebling? You want more? Dirty little slag..."

Gnawing on your lip, you nodded, completely drunk on his attention. The sound of his belt being unbuckled and shucked from his pants immediately made you throb for him.

He bound your wrists with the belt, flipping you on your stomach so you were bent over the side of the bed. You had to stand on your toes, causing your legs to shake at the stretch.

"König.. Please.." He chuckled at your desperate plea as he forced your knees back onto the bed so your hips met his. He rubbed the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing you by swiping over your clit.

You whined, burying your face further into the mattress as the friction of the blanket rubbed against your knees. König sunk the head of his cock into you, eliciting a pitiful moan as he stretched you wide, this fat cock stuffing into you inch by inch.

He groaned softly at the friction, praising you for taking him so well, "It's like you were made for me Mein Liebe, wrapped so fucking tight around me... Scheiße.."

He slowly pulled out then sunk back in, reveling in the feel of your gummy cunt wrapping tight around his meaty shaft. You whined, pressing against him to meet each thrust, tears staining the mattress as you took his cock.

König nearly growled every time you sucked him back in, head thrown back as he pulled your hips against his.

"I don't share Liebling.. You're all mine.. Only I get to see you.. get to fuck you... Scheiße.."

He moaned as you tightly squeezed around him, creaming on his dick. He watched as a ring of white collected at the base of his cock, stuffing it all the way in before spurting thick ropes of cum into your cunt.

He pulled out slowly, his cum leaking down your thighs as you whimpered at the empty feeling. He gently undid the belt around your wrists and pressed a kiss to your forehead through his mask.

"Stay there Liebling, Ill clean you up.."

König stepped away to get a washcloth soaked in warm water, gently cleaning off the arousal that had covered your legs and folds, placing a gently kiss on your ass and putting your underwear, socks and shoes back on for you.

"Now let's get you out of here, I don't need anyone else looking at my beauty.." you just nodded slowly and tried to rise on shaky legs. Clinging to his arm, he walked you back to your car, many onlookers staring in shock and utter horror.

He raised his mask above his nose and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before letting you leave. When you started the car, window still rolled down, he listened intently to the radio, realizing you were listening to his playlist.

Rein, Raus

Rein, Raus

Rein, Raus..

You flushed, turning down the radio and meekly met his gaze, "I like that song.. Reminds me of you.."

His piercing blue eyes told you all you needed to know. When he got home, you wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

Because he was going to make sure you couldn't walk.

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part four

1,321 words

one two three

Eddie the hobbit, huh? i haven’t read that one (which isn’t saying much cause i've only read books from class) it’s probably good i’d love to hear you talk about it i’d love to hear you talk about anything, though, so maybe i’m biased p.s. i know it makes me sound like an inconsiderate asshole and maybe i am but i’m only now realizing that i don't know if you want me to stop with these i’m sorry if you do promise i’ll figure out a way to ask -H

Eddie finding a way to reply to him about the book gives Steve peace of mind that he doesn’t want him to stop with the notes, but he still feels sort of weird about it. His thoughts go round and round all day and by the time the dismissal bell rings, he has a bit of a headache. 

After checking that he has enough cash on him, Steve goes out to the picnic table behind the school where Mark Jones sells pot most days. 

He makes his way into the clearing only to see someone who is certainly not Mark Jones perched on top of the table. 

Steve stops dead in his tracks.

Eddie grins sharply and holds his arms out wide. “What have I done to be blessed with his highness’ presence?”

Steve wants to talk to him. Wants to tell him to just call him Steve, wants to ask about his book, but all that comes out of his mouth is, “What are you doing here?”

Eddie’s arms drop to his sides, and he raises his eyebrows in question.

“Where’s Jones?” Steve clarifies, taking slow steps forward.

“Ah, I see. You’re here for my wares.” Eddie abruptly jumps from his seat and stretches with a groan that has Steve’s cheeks heating up. Eddie meanders over to the other side of the table before looking back at Steve and tilting his head in amusement. “Unfortunately, Mark has been let go. He had a nasty pilfering habit.” 

Whatever the fuck that means.

Steve can’t help the small smile that grows on his face, but he lifts his hand up to wipe it off inconspicuously. He’s never talked to Eddie before. 

Eddie drops onto the bench and gestures for Steve to sit across from him. As he does, Eddie opens his lunchbox and begins to rifle through it. Steve lets his eyes trail to Eddie’s hands while his focus is elsewhere. This close, Steve can finally see what shape the chunky silver ring is. A skull with fangs. Of course, it’s a skull. He should’ve known. 

Steve thinks about complimenting it but decides it would only make Eddie suspicious, and he doesn’t wanna be found out (yet, he thinks then immediately backtracks. He can’t let anyone know that he’s writing love notes to a boy. Especially not the boy himself. Who knows how Eddie would react. Even though Steve hasn’t been trying to come off as a girl through the notes, and even though no one could possibly mistake his chicken scratch penmanship for that of a girl’s, still. No one can know).

“So.” Eddie claps his hands and Steve’s eyes snap to his face. “What’ll it be, my liege?”

Steve clears his throat. “Uh, I usually just go for a couple of pre-rolls.”

“Mhm, great choice. Prepared these myself.” Eddie swipes a baggie with two in it and holds it out. When Steve goes to grab it, though, Eddie pulls it out of his reach. “Ah ah ah, Harrington, no freebies.”

Steve rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh. “Yeah, alright, man.” He pulls his wallet out and hands him what he usually pays.

Eddie takes the money and counts it leisurely. “You’re five bucks short.”

Steve stares at him deadpan. 

“Birthday fee,” Eddie offers in explanation, shrugging like 'what can you do?’ “Can’t a guy make some extra change for his special day?” Eddie bats his eyelashes.

This boy is trying to kill him. Steve looks heavenward for strength. He counts down from five in his head and only then does he risk looking back at Eddie. “It’s your birthday?”

Eddie grins. “Yup,” he says, popping the p, “Tomorrow. The big one eight.”

Steve stands and tosses a ten onto the table. Eddie passes him the baggie and starts shuffling through his lunchbox. He pulls out a five and holds it out.

Steve waves him off and Eddie peers up at him suspiciously before shrugging and returning the bill to his stash. Steve turns on his heel and begins his journey back to the parking lot. “Happy birthday to me, I guess,” Eddie mutters and Steve smiles to himself. He shoves his hands in his pockets and pivots to walk backwards. 

“Happy birthday, Munson,” he calls, and Eddie’s head snaps up.

Steve grins before turning back around and breaking into a jog. 

It’s not often that Steve finds himself in the thrift store. Not ever, actually, but with all that Eddie complains about capitalism and The Man (who the fuck is the man) and whatnot, he supposes this is his best bet. 

Steve wanders around, not even really knowing what he’s looking for. He’s idly skimming over the women’s jewelry section when he finds it. A silver ring with a blackish blueish stone in the center. It’s not that far off from the one Eddie already has, is it?

Steve tries it on and it’s a bit snug. He’ll admit that he spent far too much time earlier looking at Eddie’s hands and he thinks they were about the same size as his own, if not a bit thinner. 

It’s perfect. 

…He hopes it’s perfect. 

Eddie heard through the grapevine today’s someone’s b-day i left a gift for you under the dealer’s table p.s. it didn’t fit in the locker p.s.s sorry if this is weird but you’ll understand once you see it -H

He jogs to plant the present in its place. He’d rolled the second note up and slipped the ring onto it. It kinda looks like a scroll.

happy birthday eddie i don’t know if you want me to keep writing or if you think it’s weird or what if you want me to stop just don’t wear the ring and i’ll back off i hope you have a good day and that you like the ring <3 p.s. you’re older than me now

Steve is so anxious that he feels nauseous by the time he makes his way back to practice and it must show because coach tells him to take the bench. Tommy shoots him a worried glance but Steve just waves him off.  

By lunchtime, Steve doesn’t think he can look. He doesn’t know why it feels like this. Like Eddie not wearing the ring would be the end of the world. 

He manages to avoid looking for the first ten minutes and is seriously worried that he won’t have the guts to do it. Just as he’s resigned himself to his fate, Tommy groans from where he’s sitting in Steve’s usual seat (he hadn’t questioned the change) and then he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts.

“Get down, freak!”

Steve only just manages to not flinch. Slowly, he turns in his seat. Eddie pays no mind to Tommy other than flipping him off without even looking in his direction or pausing in his speech.

Eddie is currently using a lunch table as a stage as his friends grin up at him, egging him on. He’s passionate about whatever it is he’s talking about. Steve can tell from the way he begins gesturing wildly as he speaks. 

Steve can't tear his eyes away. He feels like he's finally been given permission to look since half of the cafeteria has their attention on him. 

It’s then that Steve glimpses the ring on Eddie's right hand. His ring.

five

tag list (closed)

@sofadofax @noodle-shenaniganery @queenie-ofthe-void @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @devondespresso

@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie

@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve

@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things @n0-1-important @xxbottlecapx

@tinyplanet95

sorry if i missed anyone!!

[piggybackambush]

"Do you think Eddie likes me?" The question leaves Steve's mouth absently, like an afterthought. Wayne watches his shoulders tense as he holds the cabnet door up. His eyes are on the floor. His cheeks going red. Wayne hums genlty, trying not to laugh in Steve's face. If he only knew.

Instead he sits with the question for a moment, keeps working, tightening the screws till they're snug. He nods at Steve, he lets go. Wayne swings the door back and forth a few times. No squeaks. And it doesn't fall off into his hands. He and Steve both nod at the same time, satisfied, Steve's hands dropping to his hips.

"Does he bite you?" Wayne asks, trying to sound as thoughtful as Steve had with his question. Steve stares at him. Wayne raises his eyebrows.

"Eddie. Does he ever bite you?" He repeats, giving Steve a pointed look.

"Oh! Um.. he... yeah? S-sometimes." Steve stammers a bit, his brow furrowing as he rubs at the back of his neck. And then his hand falls to his shoulder. And then drops by his side and clenches. Wayne smiles.

"You ever heard'a cuteness aggression?" Wayne asks, putting his tools back into their box and stashing it on top of the fridge. Steve shakes his head and frowns again. Wayne nods, motions for the small table and sits, Steve following him and sitting across from him.

"Well what I understand of it, and I'm getting this information from Eddie so... take it as you will." Steve smiles, a knowing look passing his face as he nods, and yeah, this kid has it bad for his boy.

"It's when someone thinks something is so cute it makes them violent. And Ed's got it bad. Took him ages to get it under control. What do you think happened to Gilberts ear?" Wayne nods toward the couch where their chunky brown tabby cat is napping. He looks up at the mention of his name and meows inquisitively.

"Oh my god what?!" Steve gasps, his hand jumping to cover his mouth. Wayne snorts.

"I'm just messin with ya kid. He was like that when Ed found him." Wayne smiles. Steve looks at him, straight faced, unimpressed. One of Eddie's favorite looks to wax poetic about.

"Very funny." He says dryly. Wayne chuckles, taps his hand on the table and says,

"I thought so. Anyway, point is. If that boy's teeth have sunk into you at some point. Odds are he likes ya just fine." Wayne smiles warmly, watches the gears turning in Steve's head, his brow furrowing and then relaxing as his mouth drops open in a little "O".

"So he'd say yes. If I- I mean if I wanted to-" he watches Steve swallow nervously.

"If you asked him out. Yes. I believe he would say yes." Wayne just watches Steve, takes a sip of his coffee. Steve nods to himself.

"Okay. Okay cool. I can do this. Awesome. Thank you!" He'd stood, hands wiping at his thighs, patting down his pockets, looking for his keys, before startling and turning back to Wayne to thank him.

"They're on the table by the door. And you're welcome son." He took another sip.

"And Steve?" He calls as Steve's hand hits the door, the boy turns to look at him, wide eyed.

"Yeah?"

"He can be a little... dense. When it comes to these things. Best to be forward. To the point." Wayne nods again, gives Steve a knowing look. Watches as his head tilts like a puppy as he processes.

"Forward. To the point. Okay. I got this." Steve said, nodding, to himself really, before darting out the door.

Wayne shakes his head, smiles as he cleans out his coffee cup and hopes that he'd done right by his boy. He couldn't take much more of Eddie's love sick puppy eyes. And Steve had been doing them for a few months now as well, and it was all too much. It had to be done.

~*~

Three hours later the trailer door slams open and Eddie rushes in. Steve hot on his heels, hand locked in Eddie's as he drags him down the hall.

"Evening boys." Wayne says, nonchalant, from his place near the stove, leaning against the counter.

"Hi Wayne!" Steve calls, happy and polite.

"No!" Eddie says, points at Steve aggressively and then to Wayne.

"No more talking! You two have talked enough today!" He half yells, and then drags Steve into his room, both of them laughing. His door slams shut. And then promptly opens again. Eddie bounds into the little kitchen, right into Wayne's space, and nearly tackles him in a tight hug.

Wayne squeezes him back, feels Eddie's lips press gently against his shoulder and then he's gone. Twirling away from his uncle's hold.

"Thanks Wayne." He says, his eyes bright and shining, his cheeks dimpled with happiness, and, right along his jaw, the imprint of teeth. A bitemark. Right on his face.

Wayne nods, and smiles as Eddie disappears into his room again. He can hear them talking and laughing through the wall as he makes dinner. Dinner for three now. As it has been for months.

He cooks. And he thinks. Three hours later and Steve still had to bite him to get his point across. Wayne shakes his head, smiling as he breaks the noodles and tosses them into the water, happy that his boys were finally happy.

[shaisuki]

DADDY'S HOME

FT. GOJO SATORU, NANAMI KENTO, TOJI FUSHIGURO, GETO SUGURU

content warnings: yandere themes, past mentions of abuse, noncon, baby trapping, dubcon, manipulation, stalking, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, ooc characters, crying, redemption arc?, murder, abuse, rushed writing. dead dove do not eat.

notes. my first post in april. been struggling for awhile and having writer's block plus having the new addition of two chunky puppies that looks like potatoes with legs. requests are slowly being worked on and i deeply apologize for the delay. thank you!

synopsis: long they searched for you and only to find out you have a child. their child. would they be still the same person who had hurt you or a changed man for the sake of your child?

GOJO SATORU

“where's your mom, little guy?”

there is no doubt about it. the child in front of him is his. it is like looking at the younger version of himself except for the hair, dyed black to conceal the snow-white hair identical to him. how fast can he come up with the conclusion that the child is his?

gojo was careful of the past hookups he got tangled with. there's no way he will knock some random stranger and be forced to take responsibility for a child he didn't want. there is only one person he did get pregnant, you.

his wife who escaped left him a few years ago with his unborn child growing inside your belly. funny how all those escape attempts you'd done in the past, you only succeeded once and that is when you're pregnant and then after that you disappeared like you didn't exist in his life but gojo isn't that willing to let you go. he will find you. there's no force or power in this life that can stop in him and only fate to intervene and guide him to you which leaves him in this current situation.

the sun begins to set and the clouds turned into a mix of oranges and red. the swing makes a creaking sound as it sways back and forth along with chains clanging with every move. resonating into the emptiness of the park and his son only ignores him. barely glancing at him while staring at the distance. waiting. waiting for his mother. waiting for his wife to pick him up.

gojo chuckles at the cold treatment his son have been giving him. hadn't been the most affectionate person just like when he's at that age. unforgiving and arrogant. he looked at the ground beneath him. a brief memory flashes by before looking at his son again. leaving the swing at a flash and sprinting towards someone. he follows the little boy and gojo smirks. fate do favor him.

“mama!” your little boy called to you. almost jumping in your arms and you fumbled a bit. balancing the plastic bags in your hold to pick up your son. threading his hair with your fingers and kissing his forehead like you always do.

“satoshi! sorry for making you wait. mama had errands to do. how are you?” in which your son looks at you with a huge grin in his face. making you smile in return and he whips his head to look at the swings and you followed his sight. there he is, your nightmare. the reason you have your son.

the temperature drops with every second as the wind blows stronger. you hugged your son tighter to you. your body freezing with your mind telling you to run and with a deep breath. you squeezed your son before taking a step backwards and turning around. never looking back.

he watched as his son went to you and you picking him up and you realizing that he's near you. just within arm's reach and that fear coming from you. good to know he still have a hold on you.

calm down! you tell to yourself while you carried satoshi away from that man. you know you can't hide from him forever. you will just run again. no matter how many times. you did it once — what's the difference of doing it again.

you write a mental note to yourself to pack your bags after this. you're not going back again to him, not with your child. you don't want him to go through the same things he put you through. he was already dead to your son and to you and he's merely a ghost who terrorizes you. when you got home, you made sure to lock all your doors before making dinner and tucking your son to bed and then you grab the bags.

after packing up the last necessities, you slowly trudged your way up to your son's room and your heart drops when you see him looming besides your son's sleeping figure.

“quite bold of you.” he began to speak and your lips tremble. he didn't face you and kept looking at his son. your face bereave with anger. “s—” the words die out before he interrupted you.

“going as far to dye my boy's hair. almost thought he's not mine and thinking you found yourself another man to take care of you. breaks my heart to kill him and take you.” caressing his son's hair. satoshi remained asleep despite the scene unfolding.

“satoshi doesn't need someone like you. we don't need you. stay away from him. from us.” you murmured. careful not to wake satoshi up and find his father. you don't need someone like gojo to be around satoshi.

“can't i?” said satoru. slowly standing up and making his way to you. “cause the last thing i remember, you were still mrs. gojo. pregnant with my baby.” you let out a silent yelp when he suddenly hugged you.

“let go.” you firmly warned him. squirming from his grasp but he only held you tighter. “i won't. now you're here with me. you don't know how much i have missed you.” he breathes out. his hand in the back of your head until it slowly descends on your back. squeezing the dips of your hips and you silently gasp. trying to keep the tears at bay. his nose in the pulse of your neck. breathing in your scent. “you won't deny me.” he whispers and before he could fully go down in you. he hears the bed creak, followed by someone shifting and a sniffle coming from his son. his hold got loose on you and with that, you pushed him off. joining his son in his bed to comfort him.

satoshi sniffles, his eyes fluttering and showing the blues that he inherited from his father. “mama?” he calls you and you immediately shush him. “mama's here, satoshi.” you coo. pulling the covers and tucking it beside you and satoshi latched into you. his eyes beading with tears. “it's just a nightmare, satoshi. nothing's going to hurt you.” you lied. there's only one who could hurt you both. the man who put you in hell for his own. he can do that to satoshi too and you won't let him.

although gojo had longed and wanted to take you there at the moment, he let you tend to his son. set aside the urges of longing for you who left him. a discovery he just had found hours ago. he's a father now. his back presses at the cold wall behind him and he melts at the tender moment before him. this is what you had been doing for the last five years and is it that long. five years. five years had gone by and he missed it. he wasn't there to take care for you and watch his child grow up. you stole the years and the moments where he could be with you and his son.

there's the gnawing feeling that eats him inside. the betrayal simmering in his chest the day you left him, days after he received the news that you were carrying his heir. it feels like an eternity after that.

when satoshi finally settled and you can hear the tiny snores coming from him. you slowly removed yourself from his side. it took awhile to pry his hands clutching your top before replacing it with a pillow. you kiss him in the forehead and it's finally to face him.

you're beneath him. his head hung low while he stares deeply at your eyes. both of your hands are pinned beside you. he glances at your bedside table. littered with pictures of you and satoshi. it makes his heart bleed to see him absent from all of it. he wasn't even there to see satoshi as a baby, taking his first step and see him grow to what he is now. it's all because you choose to leave him.

“you raised satoshi well.”

“i did. i'm not raising satoshi with you around.”

gojo hums, “oh, really? he didn't ask who might be his father is?” quite curious about it and he knows what you're about to answer and you didn't disappoint.

“i did. told his father was dead because you don't exist to us. to satoshi. why bother with us who don't want you?” you bravely stared back at his eyes and you thought this is going to be satoshi when he grows up to be satoru's age.

“i am bothered with it. my wife leaving me out of the blue with my child inside you. i told you, didn't i? i will always find you.”

you take a deep breath to keep the tears from spilling out of you. “five years. five years, satoru. you should have moved on. find another woman who can give what you want.”

“they can't if they are not you. why would I want myself another one when i know my wife and child are alive. how could you be so cruel to me, (y/n). you're my one and only.” gojo holds your cheek in his one hand while his eyes roam to your face and then landing in your lips.

he's been dying to kiss you for a long time and he can do it again. it feels like the first time he had kissed you. soft. gentle and sweet. it hurt him a bit to see you bite your lips with your eyes closed but he didn't care. he knows this was also the same way you reacted when you both created satoshi.

a familiar warmth creep up on him. his once cold heart melting at the contact of your lips against his. heart thrumming in slow beats. shallow breaths fans your skin and he gazes at you, with the same adoration present in the blues of his eyes.

“leave, satoru.” you protested but gojo ignores it. “no, i won't. you're stuck with me.” you cry softly when he kisses you again. hands wandering all over your body and whispering filth of how he missed your body.

“satoshi's sleeping next room.” he shushes you. “i know, that's why we have to keep quiet. you sure can manage that, mochi?” he didn't change with his nicknames and you were left weak and hopeless against his touches.

that night he ravaged you. marking the expanse of your skin. praising how you were still his wife and you never changed. the plushness of your body and just everything about you. motherhood is kind to you. he says. your body is made for him, nurturing his child and you freeze when he talks about putting one on you again. saying that he will give the next his all love with you present and you will both take care of satoshi and his sibling. you were terrified. tasting freedom once and he's back on you again to take it. escaping will be harder and you don't think it'll allow you with again.

in a blink of an eye, you were in your own prison again. you find yourself staring at the familiar garden and you think five years will change it. he kept it the same as the last when you left with promises that you will both be watching as your children played.

satoshi's hair had gone to its natural color. he's the spitting image of his father much to his delight but his child remained wary of him. even he's staring at the older image of him. he remained by your side.

“will i have a baby brother, mama?” he asks you while you were resting. “i don't know, satoshi. do you want a baby brother?” caressing your swollen belly and you fought the tears. satoshi noticing the tears pooling in your eyes, instantly expresses his concern. “no...no. mama is just a bit tired, satoshi. don't you worry about it, okay?” you assure him. “is it the baby?” you nodded at his question. he pouts at your answer. “then i don't want a baby brother.... or a sister!” he exclaims before jumping to hug you.

“satoshi, don't be mean to your baby brother or sister.” your husband pulls satoshi from you. “i hate who makes mama cry.” gojo chuckles at him. “me too, satoshi. let's protect your mama, shall we?” he embraces your son. satoshi nods, and you die a little inside.

you will spend the next years playing house with him with a new addition to this family. you still can't accept this. his words haunts you and you just can't.

gojo caresses your belly. looking at you with a smile on his face. “can't wait for this little one to arrive.” he says to you and you crack a smile at him. the thought of escape no longer lingers in your mind. not that you can think when you have a child with him and one coming.

NANAMI KENTO

nanami didn't take you leaving him to be so distressing. his life revolving around you and a baby on the way. it's going to be complete. a life with you and it took one night for you to leave him without a trace and so he goes back to working overtime.

the first days were grueling. searching for everywhere. going as far in finding information with your relatives who had given up on finding you. there's no sign of you. he spent the days and night thinking about you. worried about how you're doing without him. what about the baby? if the baby was to survive and reach the age of consciousness will his child think of him? the thoughts are endless and he don't think he can live another day without you.

the fluorescent lights are too bright for his eyes that has been drowned by the darkness of his room. his headaches becoming unbearable as the minute passes by and the stench of the hospital adding to his already dulled senses. cheeks hollowed with his sunken eyes. dragging his step to move forward. he shouldn't be here but if he wants to continue his job, a prescription would be nice from a professional.

after a scolding from the older doctor, balding with a pot belly. yapping about his health while he wrote his prescription. consisting of vitamins and stuff he didn't bother to read cause he will only give it to the pharmacist and continue his own source of living.

he was nearing the exit when a particular sign caught his sight. pediatric & maternity ward. he stops for a moment. wondering if you were here and he's accompanying you to get the first check up of your pregnancy and then an appointment for your ultrasound. hear the first heartbeat of his child and know the due date of you giving birth.

it's almost a year since you left him and he was to blame. nanami knows it was wrong to keep you for himself. telling that the outside world is dangerous for someone like you and he's facing the consequences of hurting you.

you must have given birth at this day and the baby must be four-months old. his heart grows heavy the more he thinks of you and his child. he began to walk away, the ward giving him pain and the regrets showing up. before he could step outside the doors from the ward opens and he hears a voice that he misses dearly.

when he turned around, he had to rubbed his eyes to ensure his vision wasn't playing him. there you stood, a nurse assisting you and talking on what he can assume as good wishes to you.

his breath hitches and when the nurse bid you farewell before going back to her duties. you smile back at the nurse and your attention is back in your baby. adjusting the blanket to provide warmth for the infant and when you were contented from it, you raised you head to look at your way. beginning to walk and you notice him.

you stopped when you recognize him. out of all the places to meet him, a hospital it is. worst is — you have your baby with you. hesitating to move forward or turn around and look for a another exit but it's him. it's nanami. you couldn't forget him and his ways of making you feel trapped.

what feels like an eternity and standing like a statue you continued to walk. abandoning the fear of being under him again. you could just ignore him and go home and so you did.

it hurts so much to let you go and he didn't have the strength to confront you. knowing that you'll run again and he don't want to scare you and make things worst. it pains him and yet, he was at peace. a heavy weight being lifted from his chest and he thinks he can breath properly again.

it took him awhile to get back in his daily routine when you were still around. he'd gotten better. there's no longer the dark lines under his eyes and he seems productive nowadays. he knows you won't take him back and he can't do that again to you. he won't give you a reason to loathe him again — not when his child is present in both of your lives.

he got your address effortlessly and now, he's standing in front of your door. holding a bouquet of flowers and he's adjusting his tie before knocking in your front door. he hears the shuffle of feet and the lock clicking. revealing yourself in front of him.

in a span of a year, you slowly managed to get back on your feet. body aching while you wash yourself clean and heal the wounds you inflicted in yourself while you were in his captivity. you needed to change — if you were going to bring this baby in the world. a brand new start for yourself.

when you met him that day at the hospital with his child cradled in your arms. it won't be too long for him to get you back and you feared for the safety of your child. you know nanami isn't that heartless but considering how could he be selfish at times — you knew what fate would await for your daughter.

not until he came knocking at your door. you weren't prepared for it and you did what only you can do — shut the door. it didn't happen, his arm blocking the door. “please, darling. let me explain.” he pleaded and it kinds of break your heart to hear him pleading but you're too hurt to give in. “leave us alone, kento.” you say to him but he's persistent.

he won't be leaving anytime soon, you think and maybe he'll force his way and escalate into something that can harm you or your child and you give in. you pull the door open and nanami sighs in relief when you opened the door for him.

“what do you want?” you bite your tongue when you said it. he didn't need to answer, you know what he wants.

“can we talk?” although he's a little worried about how you will react about it considering his past mistakes and he knows you're not going to open up at him anytime soon.

he didn't missed the change in your attitude. what hostility forming into you change into something of a hesitation. chewing into your lips as you decide whether you were ready to talk to him until you nodded. granting him to explain what he was about to say to you.

“come inside.” you softly mutter as you turned your back around him.

the full force of his regrets came crashing down at him from how the way you treat him. a reflection of how he badly treated you from shielding you against the world when it was him who was truly hurting you.

“so...” you started to speak at him. “what brings you here?” why are you this!? you thought to yourself. screaming internally at the the questions you were asking to him. how come you are this weak when it comes to this. you needed to be strong. prepare for the worst.

“you. i came here for you and for the baby. forgive me, darling but is the baby mine?”

you flinch when he questioned your baby's parentage and the bottled up feelings you were suppressing instantly bursting into the scene.

“is the baby yours?...” your words drawl out. “is the baby yours!? i didn't know that you could be this stupid, kento?! you kept me chained for years and knocked me up with your baby and you question me about her! how could you....?” so much for suppressing the feelings you couldn't say to him for a long time.

a wave of regret washes over him and you were right. he is stupid. you were crying because of him again. you were shaking like a leaf while tears continuously flowing out from your eyes. your sobs are muffled and tears are soaking his shirt. his chin resting in the top of your head while he held you close. he wishes he could take your pain. redeem himself from his old ways of treating you bad.

“you come here telling me you want me back and you want to be a part of her life.....” days. nights. you were thinking of him despite what he had done to you. “i told you, i didn't want her. didn't want a child for me to raise... cried myself to sleep every night after escaping you.” it was true. how you feel your baby growing inside you every seconds of your life, it terrified you. thinking how can you raise the baby.

kento's eyes softened. he didn't know it would hurt so much like he felt when you left him. you were getting the brunt of it more than he did. he thinks back from the days of how he treated you and the whole duration of your pregnancy and you giving birth alone. you must been so scared and alone.

all of that, the words of what you said sinking deeper in his skin. remorse and regret is evident in his face while he held you.

“i didn't know.” he whisper, his voice above a breath. “i didn't know you felt that way, darling.” the endearment of what he used to call you and calling you again with it again cause more tears to spring in your eyes. oh, how you love and hate him at the same time.

“i didn't know i could hurt you this bad, i—i was only thinking that if i have you back, everything will be fine. i didn't realize i was hurting you this much.”

he slowly moves away from you. reaching tentatively to hold your hands and his heart breaks to see the face he loves so much to be this hurt. “i want to make things right, darling.” there's a slight tremor in his voice. “i know i can't undo what i had done to you, but please, let me be here for you, for our child.” he holds your hands gently. “i'll do whatever to earn your forgiveness.” you were taken aback from all of it but deep down you could never trust him or forgive him. you didn't respond and you can only shake your head not until you hear crying in the nursery room where your baby sleeps.

“if you want to be better, leave us.” you began to walk away and as much nanami wants to snatch you again, you stop in your tracks. “and maybe, i'll let you back to us.”

“for now.” you added.

he kept true to his words. it's hard but it can never compare of what you had been through and he respects the boundary you were setting. he sent you flowers during the time he wasn't around and it was not enough, he needed to see you and when he did, he was granted to see his daughter, hold her in his arms.

the baby looks like you except for the blonde hair and it was just like he dreamt. a family with you. she's perfect. perfect as her mother who graced him with her presence and this baby, he will protect this child with you.

he finds you crying. masking it as dust getting in your eyes but nanami knows you like the back of his hand. after tucking his daughter back to her crib, he joins you. sitting beside you and it broke his heart a million pieces knowing you were still in the process of forgiving him.

he's a father now but he is still your husband. “i'm so sorry, darling.” he whispers, holding your hand in his. pulling you closer to rest your head in his shoulder but nanami had longed to kiss you again.

he cups your face in his hands. caressing your round cheeks and despite wanting to recoil from his touch and avoid his gaze, some part of you wants to be held like this and you can't lie to yourself that you missed him despite everything. tough love it was or is it there still love in that?

“let me make it up you.” you shaked your head. closing your eyes and a tear escaped from the corner of your eye. nanami frowns. sighing before pressing his forehead into yours for a moment before pulling away to kiss your forehead.

this is nothing, he will endure it for a very long time until he can be yours again.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

he call it a happy accident. toji happens to beat that self-proclaimed sorcerer piece of shit and now, that shit is meeting his creator. he pays the body no mind when that leather wallet of this weakling drops beside his body. well, it's not the body is only cold. he expects to find some cold, hard cash there and he gets more than that. a picture of his wife and toji clicks his tongue. kicking the son of a bitch's body. annoyed that his wife is playing house with a another man that didn't even manage to put a scratch on him.

an idea appeared in his mind and toji smirks. he could pay this wife of his a visit. you would be so happy to meet him.

he came knocking at your door and the look you expressed is the best you can ever muster in a true horror of him finding you, it didn't disappoint.

“hey there wife. remember me?” he said in the most cocky voice he can muster and look at you, you're almost shaking in your boots but toji is surprised as you are when you were holding a toddler in your arms. a dead ringer of him. round, emerald eyes with the same eyelashes and face as his. clutching your blouse with a pacifier in his mouth.

his sight narrows to his son and to you. his once surprised face being replaced with a bored look and you couldn't even bring yourself to close the door. you don't know what he's thinking and so he got you when you're weak.

“you birthed a brat and it's mine?” it's not a question really when he comes doing this. his hard body pressed against your soft one. trapped in the cold table where you prepare him tea. insisting that he's a guest in your house and you must be a good host to serve him.

toji sighs, a low grunt coming from him. “you could be so mean if you want to. hiding my child and you come playing house with a man you replaced me with.” your blood runs cold with every words he said and the hands wandering all over your body until it came creeping below your blouse and his rough hands are squeezing the flesh of your stomach. you closed your eyes shut.

“he's a good man. which you will never be and you killed him.” your lungs contracts before releasing a breath that will took you days, months or for years to tell him that and you said it in one breath.

his eyebrows twitch. a look of disdain dawning in his face. just because you tasted freedom and you're acting like a goddamn independent bitch. you deserved to be punished.

the tea's now forgotten cold. you're pinned in the counter top with toji's cupping your jaw in a deathly grip. the skin of your wrist turning into a another shade. the circulation cut off and it begins to numb.

“who said about me being good man? he's a weakling who can't even protect himself and that weakling lead me to you and you're his what? his bitch? a body to warm his bed? when you should be doing it to mine!? you're one ungrateful bitch.” toji chuckles and he smirks triumphantly.

“my kindness needs to be paid, princess.” and here he goes calling you with the spiteful nickname to you.

he didn't give you the time to reply and forcefully kissed you. you almost choked at his whole body weight crushing your own. you couldn't even move your face to the side and reject that kiss of him. you didn't need him and your mind froze thinking of megumi.

you don't want him to see you in this position with his father. you kissed back, giving him what he wants so you can tell him. resistance is futile with megumi present in your life now.

toji grunts. you can feel him smile against your lips and when he breaks the kiss. you stare at him with your eyes pleading. “megumi.” and toji got the message of what you're talking. he glances at the door of the kitchen and he can the tiny shadow of his son walking, although a little wobbly and using the walls to balance himself. he scoffs at his son, ruining his reunion with his mother and toji is quite annoyed by it but it didn't stop him from feeling proud of birthing his son.

toji lets you free and your knees wobbled, giving out on you and you were left kneeling at the cold floor. megumi spotted you and in his own steps made his way to you in which you hugged him tightly.

“you ain't going to introduce him to his old man, wife?” you pursed your lips at his question and ignored him. rubbing megumi's back and shutting his father out and it ticked toji to just take his son away from you but resisted the urge to do so. knowing he can use this to keep you to him again. you would be so obedient with a little threat.

“careful now. you don't want me taking our little megumi away from you.” he warns. “now, put megumi to sleep and we can continue this little reunion of ours.” you nodded and you immediately scamper away from him and you see the front door. you can run but he'll catch you. you accepted your fate now and you would take the brunt of his punishments cause you're a disobedient wide who didn't care about your husband's desire.

it would be a waste to chain you again. toji thought. you're a mother now and he got a son with you. he don't want any interfering from how you will raise his son. he couldn't think about anything and maybe after you put megumi to sleep. he could think the ways he could keep you by his side again. for now, he'll just be a little patient and he can have you again for himself again.

GETO SUGURU

it was a mix of being ashamed and scared.

you knew this day will come when suguru and his child will reunite once again. the last he seen you was a baby bump visible in your dress in which he was happy. it did take root. a new lineage for the age of sorcerers.

dusk beginning to settle in the skies and you were supposed to fetch your son in the front yard telling that supper is ready and to your surprise. you found suguru standing tall, head low to face your son. a smile plastered in his face the whole time talking to your son and then he notices your stiff figure standing in the pavement before slowly walking towards them.

“i am your father. did your mommy told you that?” he asks and your son is processing what the words could mean. taking a glance between you and to his father. waiting for an answer in which you remained silent and only to tell him to go inside and wait for you.

suguru smiles. the smile that you hadn't seen for years and you can't deny that it still have an effect on you. “missed me, (y/n)?” the curse user spoke to you. his black and long hair swaying in the rhythm of the gentle breeze blowing.

“not really.” you honestly said to him and suguru's eyes changes into something dark from how you responded. “guess you got tired of all that luxury or everything's not enough for you.” he tuts. following the changes that is present in your face but he only received a curt shake of your head.

how shallow is that. you were like a pet to him. something he owned. a possession. he didn't like you being you and so you were lavished with expensive stuff that would keep you chained from the compound and to his little family. family. one you never had and never truly belonged in his place however you laid with him every night and the result, your son. living and breathing.

once you found out you were with child. it was a realization that you were never free and it hit you that this child will suffer the same fate as you and so you walked out. never looking back with the sole intention that you will raise this child with a perspective of the world and not to be influenced. his own and so you lived for years in peace until he showed up.

a shiver went down your spine from the contact of his fingers tracing to your soft jawline. electric and shocking. with a touch you will obey him but it's different. you're a mother now and something so good will only bring you to your own demise and it will extend to your child.

it is but you missed him touching you. a slave for his affections and you weren't really different from your past self. mustering the courage is the same as surrending yourself from the man who you treated as your world.

closing your eyes and you raised your head to meet suguru's eyes. purple it is. “you would understand why i left you, suguru. i can't raise ryū in that place.”

“and you think excluding me from ryū's life will change it?” not breaking eye contact while he caress your round cheek.

“yes. you're mad suguru and i can't change that.”

suguru chuckles. how motherhood impacted your ways of thinking. finding it so endearing to see you standing up and you wouldn't believe it that he's much more in love with your or whatever he was feeling. he knows it's bad for him and to you. “look at that, motherhood did you good. mad? i'll show what's mad, my dear wife.” he leans to whisper something to your ear. “i will let this go once and then prepare yourself. you will be back to me and with ryū, there's no chance of turning your back away from me.” he softly threatens to you and it weighs heavier. a contrast of the mellow tone of voice he was using.

“see you soon, (y/n).” kissing your cheeks before waving a hand to say goodbye to your son who was staring behind the windows.

suguru left after that and you knew what's about to come and you wished none of that will happen but suguru was always true to his words and you abandoned hope.

he will come back.

[love-toxin]

The way you write Tommy is just UUGH

I just wanna pin him down and ride him until he has nothing left to give :((( like gimme his chunky babies!! 😭🙏

oh noooooooo........my gears are turning......tommy with an obsessed s/o that wants to bump uglies constantly......MMMRRRROOWWWW!!!

he's so flattered, but so edgy about it cause momma can't overhear him engaging in premarital sex!!! especially not the type you like where it's just messy and raw and rough and you leave spit and slick everywhere, all over his hairy chest and his lap and your clothes. you have to do it in the barn in the hayloft and its STILL loud, still so sloppy he has to carry you in the house just so none of his family notice the dark stains on your clothes.

but can he complain? no. cause you're the only one who's ever seen him as a man and not just a mistake, and it's not like he doesn't like seeing you so needy all the time. you could be doing this to any other guy but you wanna do it to him--him! a nobody, a wretched defect like him! you must be an angel. or maybe you're a devil cause you fuck as nasty as one. he loves the scrape of your nails through his hair as you drag them down his sweaty chest, when you're perched like a pretty sculpture on his lap. his thighs jiggle every time you bounce on it--his cock, that's what you call it--and you can't help but grip them, squeeze them for balance but also cause you just love the feel of him everywhere. his belly doesn't bother you nor does the grime and sweat caking his skin, nor the dirt under his fingernails or his maddening, untrimmed bush that radiates out to his thighs like a curly black cloud.

it doesn't matter if he's been working in the slaughterhouse all day, shoveling pig shit, or doing any of his other messy chores. when you give him that look like you wanna eat him right up, he's completely at your mercy and he loves every fucking minute of it. you look at him like he's a piña colada in the desert and you'll die if you don't get a sip.

and that's before you start getting hit with baby fever. suddenly, almost out of the blue, you're picking through baby clothes in the trunks upstairs and finding old rattles and toys that are barely holding together. Tommy's baby bottles that Luda Mae kept and never threw away cause she could never bear to part with her sweet baby's things, even after he'd grown up and out of them. it's the sentiment that really gets you and then you're stuck thinking about babies, not just about what Tommy was like when he was that young, but what your babies together might look like. would they have his nice dark hair? his height? would they be hardworking and loyal like he is? would they be so committed to their family they would...

well, that part isn't important right at the moment. you're more concerned with making the babies than anything else--that's the fun part, after all. you keep dropping hints here and there but it's when Tommy finds you sewing together a stuffed bear he loved as a boy that he really starts thinking. you're so gentle with it. you clean him up and polish his little button eyes and patch up a hole on the arm where Hoyt 'accidentally' burned it with a cigarette while he was drunk. you put him back together and he looks almost brand new, newer than when he first had it and Luda Mae tenderly plucked it out of the dumpster to give to him for his birthday.

he gets it then. that night is deplorable when you two sneak out to the barn. Tommy's just as riled up as you are and when you realize he's not just fucking you for pleasure--this time, he's fucking to breed--your sobs and choked-up squeals have to be muffled by his thick fingers stuffed in your mouth. he hooks them and drags your face closer to his chest for you to suffocate between his pecs, cause he needs both hands to grip your waist and jam you down on his cock like he's shoving a cork back in a wine bottle. you're just so little compared to him and such a tight squeeze, he can't help getting a little rough when he wants in! it's just prepping you for birth. you're gonna need to squeeze out plenty of kids for him after this, and with his size? they're gonna be little monsters to try and deliver, just like he was.

but you love him and that's why you're doing this. that's why you let his nuts drag down your ass on every deep, near-painful thrust, and why you let him beat your cunt like he hates you when there's nothing but pure love and possessiveness in his eyes. that's why, when you squirm to get away, he knows you don't really mean it and slams your hips back down for you to howl like a cat in heat. that's why he can't let you sleep until sunrise, when you're half-conscious and spasming with leg twitches, cause the seed pooling in your tummy hasn't stopped leaking out from every time he's planted his roots into your squishy womb. he's gotta make sure it takes just in case you change your mind. once you get pregnant, then you really are part of the family--you'll be a Hewitt just like all the rest of them, birthing the next generation of Hewitts to keep the family roots strong <3

[residentflamingo]

Twice Members’ Favorite Places to Kiss You

Twice x fem! reader

Genre: fluff!!

Warnings: so sweet you’ll get a toothache <3

A/N: I have so many good drafts I want to share with you guys, but my motivation has been at 0% because school has been kicking me in the ass 💀✌️ But lately I have been getting a lot better, so more works are expected to come soon! Which also means I will be opening back up my requests box :D Someone did request me to write something a long time ago, and I’ve been steadily working on it over time. It’s got about 3,000 words on it, so as long as my lazy ass doesn’t put it off to writing it, that draft will be coming out soon as well. Thank you to all of you lovely people who have been patient, and also the ones that have been liking my posts. You guys are phenomenal and I love and appreciate all of you ❤️

Nayeon

Lips ♡

A very standard one, but well suitable for her

She loves how soft and plump your lips are

Like Sana, Nayeon is a very affectionate person

So after she’s had a loooong day at the studio, all she wants to do is give you some repetitive and silly kisses that end up in slow and passionate ones

(Sometimes she’ll even bite your lip if she’s feeling a little bit frisky that night…)

“Oh my gosh I missed you so much Y/N. You won’t believe how many new dance routines they made us learn today.”

Her favorite kinds of kisses are good luck kisses and goodnight kisses <3

(And the passionate ones of course ;)

Nayeon loves how sweet it feels to be able to show her love through a kiss, and be able to feel your soft lips in the process

Kissing your lips make her feel grounded, and wanting nothing more than to spend every moment of every day with you

Jeongyeon

Forehead ♡

Very domestic and homey feeling for her

Her kisses are always very sentimental and sweet

She doesn’t kiss as often as other people, which makes the wait worth it every time

“Here honey, you go lay down and rest. I can do the rest of the laundry for you.”

Always kisses you randomly and making sure it catches you off guard

She loves seeing you all flustered and shy <3

Kissing you on the forehead reminds her of being married to you someday, and just being able to protect you from harm

You are everything to her, and she never wants you to feel anything less than that

And if you’re shorter than her, then it’s an even better reason for her to kiss you on the forehead <3

Will also give you the biggest kiss when she comes home from work 🥺

“I missed you so much honey, what have you been up to?”

Momo

Tummy ♡

When you had previously told her about being insecure about your tummy, you never thought she would take it so seriously

But oh boy how wrong you were

It instantly became Momo's favorite place to kiss you

Momo made sure to always remember it so she could prove your insecurities wrong

She loves how soft and chunky your tummy is, and just can't ever get enough of it

Also loves how much you giggle when she kisses you

If you ever have those days where you're not feeling too great, she will start giving you kisses there first and make sure you feel so loved and beautiful

“You are so beautiful Y/N. Don’t you ever forget it.”

“Your stretch marks are not ugly at all honey I promise. They make you look even more gorgeous.”

She will sometimes leave hickies and bite marks there too, but only when she’s in the mood and you give her permission

If you are also pregnant, she will not hesitate to smother your tummy in kisses then too <3

It would be almost impossible for her to keep her hands off of you

Her end goal is to always make you feel loved, and to remind you that you are the most beautiful woman she has ever set her eyes on

Sana

Dimples ♡

We all know Sana is a very affectionate person. So choosing her favorite spot to kiss you would be impossible right?

Nope not at all for her.

The first thing that had drawn her to you was your radiant smile

But the deal breaker was the dimples that came along with it

She just couldn’t get enough of them

Once you guys had been dating for about 3-4 months, you both had gotten very comfortable with each other and started being all lovey dovey and such

That was when you noticed how much she loved to kiss your dimples

Any chance she could get, she made sure to kiss you in that same spot

It never failed to make you blush every time, and that’s part of the reason why she would constantly kiss you there

She also loves how well they compliment your face, and how adorable they make you look

“Y/N have I ever told you how much I love your dimples? They make you look so cute!” *pinches your cheeks*

Jihyo

Cheeks ♡

She doesn’t mind kissing on the lips. She loves it actually, but she just enjoys kissing your cheeks even more

Jihyo’s kisses are the most genuine ones you will ever feel in your entire life

Sometimes it’s hard for her to say how much she loves you outloud, so she’ll express it through her kisses

When you’re having a bad day and come home tired, she’ll wrap her arms around you and give soft pecks on your cheeks

Or when Jihyo has to leave for early morning dance practice, she’ll slowly wake you up by peppering your face with kisses too

It’s just a super sweet gesture for her, and your puffy cheeks are too cute for her to not kiss anyways

She loves the way you blush when she randomly walks up to you and kisses you

Jihyo adores you so much, even if it’s hard for her to say outloud sometimes

When she does, she makes sure it meaningful, and at the perfect time

“I love you so much Y/N. Even if I don’t say it outloud that much, I really do. You’re my world, and I never want you to feel any lesser than that.”

Mina

Nose ♡–-

When you confessed to her that you hated the shape/size of your nose, she made it one of her top priorities to make you feel less insecure about it

Her shy persona may keep her from expressing a lot of things, but it didn’t stop her from showing her affection for you

You were used to her always giving you warm hugs, and very soft kisses on the lips

But when she added your nose to the agenda, it was game over for you

She loves to kiss your nose when you look super cute, and she can’t handle it

Or when you’re doing something sweet for her like washing the dishes, or doing her laundry. She’ll always find a way to pay you back with affection

“Thank you so much baby. You’re so sweet.”

Over time your insecurities had slowly gone away after receiving so much love and support from her, making your nose the very very least of your worries

Having someone like her in your life made you realize that looks weren’t every thing, and that you never have to worry about when you’re with her

“Honey your nose is so cold. *kisses your nose* Here let me kiss it some more so it will feel warmer...”

Dahyun

Hands/ fingers ♡

Dahyun is very loving and sweet

She loves to hold your hand when you two are walking around Seoul together, or just cuddling on the couch

She loves the intimacy it brings between you two

If she doesn't express her love with words at the moment, she will express it with actions

She'll bring your hand up to her lip and pepper your knuckles, fingers, and whatever else with kisses

Something else that she would never admit, is how she loves the softness of your hands

It reminds her of when she was little, and she would hold her mother’s hand

Dahyun wants you to feel loved and adored by her at all times, even if it’s not verbally

When you guys are at restaurants, she will have no shame holding your hand from across the table and kissing it

“Dahyun be careful. People might see us.”

She’ll just laugh and say, “Let them. Nothing will ever stop me from expressing my love for you darling.”

Chaeyoung

Jawline/Neck ♡

We all know Chaeyoung is a big romantic

And can sometimes be a bit flirty with it too

So it’s no surprise that her favorite place to kiss you, would be the most intimate and steamy

Even though it is her favorite spot to kiss you, she doesn’t really kiss there very often

But when she does, she makes sure to go all out

She loves how intimate it is, and loves hearing/ seeing your reaction every time she kisses in that area

Most definitely will leave hickies too, so be aware when she starts going to town down there

“You like it when I kiss you like this baby?”

You can just already see her smirking while saying that…

She loves riling you up and making you melt from her touch <3

Tzuyu

Ears ♡

Tzuyu is a one-of-a-kind woman, and the sweetest one you have ever met

When you guys first started dating you it stayed at the awkward stage for a little bit longer than most couples

But when she started warming up to you, her affection towards you became even greater

It started with little kisses on the nose, then on the cheek, lips, she eventually progressed to your ears

You thought it was weird at first, but you eventually grew to love it

Tzuyu loves to hug you from behind because of the height difference, and she’ll often whisper in your ear how much she loves you

Sometimes she’ll nibble a little bit too after kissing it, but not very often

If you have slightly larger size ears, she would tease you about it every now and then

But not enough to where you would feel insecure

She just thinks your ears are super cute, and make you even more loveable

"I love you so much Y/N... Don't ever change. You are perfect just the way you are."

[zerosconsort]

Zero's Fic Binding - Maybe Tomorrow

Maybe Tomorrow by @scifigrl47

Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel) – All Media Types

Ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Start Date: 4/12/24

End Date: 5/2/24

Pages: 433

On my list of fics to bind, Maybe Tomorrow was the one I saw the most clearly in my head before I started. I had an idea in my mind immediately - knew what I wanted the cover to look like, knew the chapter headers - the vision for this bitch was so clear the entire time I was working on it.

The fic is a an Annie retelling. I wanted the cover to combined a playbill vibe - pulling the city scape from some of the covers - and the Gatsby vibe. The Empire state building was my main inspiration - it combines those two thing brilliantly.

I could not find a skyline of New York that I like. So I made one. This cover is built out of MANY small squares that are masked behind other squares. There are…so many individual paces of this cover. It took me WAY to long, but I this was one of those times where I knew exactly what I wanted this to look like, and I did it.

Ok, let me nerd out for a second. Specifically I wanted the sun burst on the front - and on the top of the spine - here to look like some of the old art deco elevators floor indicators. The hollow gold really fucking pulls the whole cover together. The Broadway font, the hollow gold vinyl - honestly, this was my favorite cover. It's the most themed, that's for sure - and also the most detailed.

End pages are that lovely art deco arch. Commit to the bit. Can tell that the binding tape is a little thick/the end paper is a little to thin - so you can see them ghosting just slightly. Still, the shiny gold fans were fucking perfect.

Ok, moving on. The typeset for this chunky boy is also lovely. Every chapter has different top header frames. The Broadway style font for the headers and the drop caps are all gold.

This was my first try imbedding images into the chapters as well, relating them to whatever is going on in the fic.

Including the shot of my splash page too. I've started to define this a lot more now, but this was the first time I think I detailed this page this much.

This is one of my fucking favorite fics. I love everything about it - the plot, the character writing, the mood. Scifigrl47 was the first writer I tripped over on my way into the Steve/Tony fandom….fucking, what? Ten years ago? It's a pleasure to read their fics, always, and I'm ecstatic to have it on my shelf now.

If you somehow haven't read this fic, you're welcome.

[spidergrysn]

CHALLENGERS: markhyuck x reader

cw: 18++ reader is kinda like tashi, challengers quotes in green, a bit of tennis lingo i had to google LOL. markhyuck are lowkey pathetic losers in a hot way, cussing, flirting, innuendos with tennis racquets, slightly switch! haechan but mostly dom, mark slight switch! (markie is mostly subby at first), switch! reader, tennis is kind of hot idk, degradation/name calling, ass slapping, don’t be silly wrap ur wily!, fat cock haechan, alcohol and cigarette mention, CUNT!!!!!, fingering, making out, blow jobs, use of the word “sir”, boys kissing. (this is my first time writing smut LOL)

“Mark, you really fucking suck,” Haechan teases, his laughter and voice bouncing around the court.

Haechan jogs to the corner of the court grabbing his chunky bottle of gatorade, chugging it down as dewey sweat drops, drop from his sun-kissed complexion. He then jogs back over to join Mark again, Haechan reaches over the net and hands the bottle to Mark. The black-haired boy grabs it as he thirstly chugs the remaining liquid, not caring about the drops of sweat rimming the bottle from Haechan or the slight backwash his friend left.

“Thanks,” Mark utters with a half-hearted grin as he walks back to his spot on the court. He picks up his tennis racket, gripping it as he takes a spare neon tennis ball out of his black gym shorts before serving the ball to Haechan, who is locked in, ready in position.

The ball bounces between the boys rhythmically as the two best friends engage in lively banter about the happenings in their lives: from girls to tennis to the excitement of their favorite artist releasing a new album. They babble back and forth, eagerly awaiting the moment when one of them slips up in their exchange.

"That's game!" Haechan's voice echoes across the court as Mark's racquet swings through empty air, narrowly missing the trajectory of the ball. With precision, Haechan had delivered a swift and well-placed shot, leaving Mark scrambling to catch up. The ball zips past him, its velocity a testament to Haechan's pure skill. Mark's dark brown eyes follow the ball's path, a mix of frustration and admiration evident in his expression, as he realizes he's unable to return the shot in time. With a defeated nod, he acknowledges the end of their match.

Mark rolls his eyes in frustration, his fingers tightening around the grip of his his racquet as he trudges to the corner of the court where his backpack lies in wait. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, evidence of the intensity of their match, he bends down to retrieve his bag, his chest rising and falling with each panting breath. With a quick sigh of relief, he unzips the side pouch and fishes out a bottle of water, the cool liquid soothing his heated throat as he takes a refreshing sip, quenching his thirst.

Meanwhile, Haechan approaches with a light jog, his movements fluid and effortless, really showing off his endurance. With practiced ease, he scoops up his red duffel bag, effortlessly tucking his racquet inside before hoisting it onto his shoulder with a nonchalant shrug. Mark watches with a mixture of envy and admiration, always impressed by Haechan's composure even after theirs grueling matches and practices.

"Yo, let's go," Mark suggests to his friend, signaling toward the exit of the court. The chestnut-haired boy beside him simply nods in agreement.

As they stroll side by side, they leave the court behind, lost in the thought of getting to go home; and let loose by playing video games so loud their neighbors complain.

"Ahem, watch where you're going," Haechan hears a sharp voice cut through the air, and he looks up to find a girl standing directly in his and Mark’s path. She's clad in an old grey tennis competition shirt from 2021 and a matching tennis skirt, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. The sunlight dances off her radiant skin, unadorned by makeup, its clear to testimony to her natural beauty. Her finely plucked eyebrows arch elegantly above her big doe eyes that exude a natural confidence, she holds onto a duffel bag in one hand and a baby blue tennis racquet in the other, the ribbon in her hair mirroring the color.

"Holy shit," Haechan gasps, caught off guard by her presence, while Mark shoots him a quizzical look. The girl, however, remains unfazed, her demeanor poised and self-assured.

"So, are you going to stand there with your mouth open, or are you going to apologize for bumping into me?" she demands matter-of-factly, her gaze fixed on Haechan as though she were towering over him with her confidence alone despite, Haechan being quite a few inches taller than the girl.

"Uh, yeah, my bad," Haechan stammers, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

Mark elbows Haechan, confusion etched on his face as he wonders why his typically quick to fire back friend would allow someone to talk to him like that. The girl's piercing gaze shifts between them before she directs her attention blankly at Mark.

"You kinda suck, not gonna lie," the girl remarks, her tongue clicking in a somewhat condescending manner, a twisted smile playing at the corners of her lips. Mark is taken aback; he was used to Haechan poking at him about his skills, but hearing it from a stranger irritated him.

"And who even are you?" Mark retorts, his tone laced with skepticism.

The girl raises an eyebrow, unfazed by his challenge. "I was watching you guys play. You play really sloppy, you don’t know how to focus, and your serve is pretty shit," she says casually, her words cutting through the air like a well-aimed volley.

“Like you could do any better," Mark fires back defensively, his confidence wavering slightly as he notices Haechan's nervous laughter, a rare occurrence from his usually cocky friend.

"Hmm, well then, play me?" she suggests casually, her smirk showing a hint of amusement. "My teammate is running a bit late. I don’t mind taking you on as a warm-up."

With graceful poise, she lightly jogs to one side of the court, positioning herself with effortless confidence. As she stretches her toned legs, her movements deliberate and fluid, Mark can't help but admire the beauty and strength evident in her slender form.

Haechan shot Mark a disapproving glance before his hand swiftly met the back of Mark's head with a resounding smack.

"You're an absolute idiot," Haechan grumbled, irritation lacing his words. "Do you have any idea who that is?"Mark's head tilted in confusion as he shook it slowly, indicating his lack of knowledge.

Haechan shot Mark a disapproving glance before his hand swiftly met the back of Mark's head with a resounding smack.

Haechan let out an exasperated groan, his frustration sketched all over his face. "For someone who spends so much time on the court, you're clueless about the social scene.

That's MOTHER FUCKING Y/N L/N, one of the most formidable players at the college level. She's undefeated, has crazy-ass brand deals, and let's not forget, she's drop-dead gorgeous. Easily in the top three of my 'women I'd let fuck me with my tennis racquet list, and she's not second or third, I'll tell you that much."

Suddenly, it dawned on Mark. Though he had never seen her up close, the name Y/N L/N had circulated in his head at one point or another, whether through passing mentions or Haechan's enthusiastic discussions about her tennis prowess. She was undeniably beautiful, but her reputation for arrogance and rudeness preceded her, making Mark annoyed at the thought of facing her on the court.

"Are you two gonna jerk each other off all day, or are we here to play tennis?" Y/N's voice interrupted, punctuated by the thud of a tennis ball landing at their feet. Mark snapped into action, catching the ball and grabbing his racket, positioning himself on the opposite side of the court.

"Your serve first, princess," Y/N says with a smirk, her competitive spirit evident as she awaited the match to start.

Haechan's gaze shifted from Mark to Y/N, He stood on the sidelines, practically drooling, mesmerized by the presence of the infamous tennis player.

As Mark began to serve, Haechan couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "His serve kinda sucks," observing with a critical eye as Y/N effortlessly returned the ball, her movements graceful and fluid.

As the games goes-on, Mark began to understand why Haechan had spoken so highly of her. Y/N's skill on the court surpassed anything he had ever witnessed. The way she wielded her racket with precision and power was mesmerizing, almost enchanting. It was as if she weren't just playing tennis; she was conducting a symphony of athleticism and beauty , each stroke executed with a her own powerful flair that bordered on ethereal.

Caught in the spell of her dance-like performance, Mark found himself growing increasingly frustrated with his own skills. He could only watch in awe as Y/N dominated the game with her masterful strokes and unwavering focus. It was a sight to behold.

His train of thought was abruptly interrupted as Y/N served the ball, and Mark, caught off guard by her skill and agility, missed his return. Her laughter, light and melodic, filled the air as she declares the game is over.Y/N sways up to the net, her eyes gazing at Mark intrigued with a mix of scrutiny.

“You really do suck," she stated matter-of-factly again , her tone holding a hint of brutal honesty. "But you've got crazy potential. You don't give up easily, and that's a good trait."

Mark's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" he retorted, a tinge of defensiveness creeping into his voice.Y/N shook her head, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

"No, it's supposed to be a critique," she clarifies, her gaze unwavering.

She then shifted her attention towards Haechan, nodding approvingly. "Your friend over there, the one with the brown hair and tiny man-whore shorts, he's not bad at all. Pretty good, actually. But you," she turned back to Mark, her expression serious, "you'll never catch up to him if you keep playing like that."

Mark felt a surge of annoyance bubbling within him. Who did this stranger think she was, passing judgment on his skills just because she was some kind of "tennis god"? Before he could voice his protest, Y/N cut him off, her words piercing through his thoughts like a sharp blade.

"Let me coach you."

Mark's jaw dropped in disbelief, a mixture of shock and irritation coursing through him."You're taking pity on me? How lucky I must be," he scoffed, rolling his eyes in frustration.

Y/N merely shrugged, unfazed by his sarcasm. "Well, yes. You should be very lucky," she replied, her tone unwavering as she extended a once and a lifetime offer.

Y/N flashed a mischievous grin as she extended her offer, her eyes darting towards Haechan, who hovered nearby like an eager labrador puppy."You can bring your little friend too," she quipped, her tone teasing yet serious . "Just tell him to lay off on the 'Fuck me eyes.' He's very obvious with it."

Before Mark could protest, Y/N continued, her words cutting through his initial resistance just like her well-aimed serve.

"If you actually want to get far in life, you need to be skilled at hitting a ball with a tennis racquet," she stated bluntly, her gaze unfazed as she laid bare the reality of the situation. Mark let out a defeated sigh, his insecurities gnawing at him as he hesitantly nodded in reluctant agreement.

"So, are you gonna give me your number?" he ventured, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Y/N's lips curved into a playful smile. "No! You have to earn that," she replied, her demeanor unyielding yet playful. "Just meet me here tomorrow at 6 am."

"6 am? You're crazy," Mark exclaimed, his disbelief evident in his tone.

"Yes, I fucking am," Y/N replied nonchalantly, already turning to meet up with her teammate who arrived a little bit ago. "Bye."

"Wait, you're not even gonna ask for my name?" Mark called out, his frustration mounting as she walked away without a backward glance.

The girl hummed slightly, a mysterious smile dancing on her lips as she jogged up to her teammate, enveloped in a cloud of laughter and chatter.

Mark let out a heavy sigh as he approached Haechan, who stood with raised eyebrows, his curiosity piqued by the encounter."We've got to be here at 6 am tomorrow," Mark announced, his tone a mixture of resignation and disbelief. "She offered to coach me."

Haechan's eyes widened in surprise, a grin spreading across his face as he processed the news. With a hearty clap on Mark's back, he exclaimed, "Mark Lee, you dirty bastard!” Grabbing Mark by the arm and pulling him away, their laughter echoing across the tennis court as they made their exit.

•

•

"You're late!" the girl's voice rang out across the court, her tone sharp with annoyance. "Yeah, well, some of us aren't used to waking up at 6 am," Haechan retorted, his tone laced with sarcasm as he jogged onto the court alongside Mark.

The girl scoffed, her irritation evident as she shook her head. "Which is exactly why you guys will never get better than where you are now," she shot back saying, her gaze piercing as she focused on Haechan. "You aren't that bad at all, but you have a big ego, and you won't get very far with that attitude, I'll tell you that."

Haechan tilted his head, muttering under his breath about her audacity, but the girl paid him no mind as she shifted her attention to Mark.

"And you.. YOU need my help the most," she continued, her tone firm and slightly unkind. "Don't waste my time again."

With a click of her tongue, she flashed a brief smile before announcing about today’s drills.

By the time their intense session came to an end, the boys' bodies felt as if they had been through a meat grinder. Every muscle screamed in protest, their arms threatening to detach from their sockets, and their hair clung damply to their foreheads. Gasping for breath, they dashed to their water bottles, gulping down the refreshing liquid before Y/N could subject them to any more torture.

Leaning against the fence surrounding the court, the boys found temporary solace, their bodies sinking gratefully into the cool metal. Y/N approached them with a slight smile, her demeanor more relaxed now that the intense training session was over.

"Not too bad today," she remarked, glancing at her watch, the time reading 9 am. Her gaze shifted back to the boys. "Keep practicing like this, and you both might actually stand a chance against other players."

With a collective sigh of relief, the boys slumped down against the fence sitting on the ground, finally allowing themselves a moment of peace. Surprisingly, they found themselves not minding Y/N's presence as she joined them, the three of them sitting in comfortable silence.

From that day forward, their routine was set in stone. Four times a week, at the ungodly hour of 6 am, Mark and Haechan met Y/N on the court. She pushed them to their limits, mixing half-assed compliments with snide remarks, but beneath her tough exterior, she was undeniably a good fucking coach.

•

•

Before the sun could even rise on the clear day, Mark and Haechan piled into Mark's sleek black car, the engine humming to life as they head to the tennis field. The clock on the dashboard read 5:40 am, showing their intense dedication to the crazy Y/N’s early morning training sessions.

"You know, I think we are kinda warming up on her more more," Mark speaks up quietly, his gaze focused on the road ahead as he maneuvered through the empty streets. Haechan nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "You still don't think it's weird she hasn't asked for our names or our numbers?"

Mark tilted his head in consideration before shaking it. "Nah, I think she's just weird like that. Who knows?"

With a nod of acknowledgment, Haechan launched into a passionate discussion about an upcoming women's tennis match, his enthusiasm showing as he detailed the fierce competition from renowned colleges across the country and even internationally.

"You think she's got this in the bag?" Haechan inquired, his curiosity evident as they neared their destination. "There's some pretty sick competition out there." Mark nodded fastly, his confidence unwavering. "There's no one as good as her, I'm convinced. Not with that fiery personality."

Haechan chuckled in agreement as they pulled into the parking lot, the quiet hum of their conversation dissipating as they exited the car and joined their "coach" on the court, ready to tackle another challenging session Y/N is about to throw at them.

The boys positioned themselves on opposite sides of the court, their anticipation making them shake as they awaited Y/N's next move. With a smile playing on her lips, she spoke up, her voice carrying a playful edge.

"As you know you guys have a competition soon," she remarked, her observation drawing their attention back to their upcoming match, momentarily forgotten amidst the excitement of the women's tournament.

"Do you guys think you're ready?" she inquired, arching an eyebrow expectantly. Mark and Haechan exchanged glances, their minds racing as they mentally assessed their readiness. With a determined nod, they both replied in unison, "Yes."

“Good, because whoever wins gets my phone number,” Y/N declared with a teasing smirk, her words sparking a competitive fire within the boys.

Despite her occasional harshness, both boys found themselves growing increasingly fond of her, their admiration morphing into a subtle crush on the elite tennis player. On days when she wasn't with them, their conversations inevitably drifted towards the egotistical but enigmatic girl, filled with friendly banter and playful jabs about who could win her “heart” first.

The boys' faces lit up with excitement as they eagerly awaited Y/N's next move, her mischievous gaze locking onto theirs with a playful glint in her e/c eyes.

"Now get off the court, I have a competition soon and I need to practice," she commanded, her voice carrying a hint of urgency beneath its casual tone.

"You made us come here at 6 fucking am to tell us this?" Haechan half-yelled, his frustration bubbling to the surface as Mark groaned, upset at the lost opportunity for precious sleep.

"Yes, I did. Now leave, you idiots are gonna distract me," Y/N retorted, her tone firm yet tinged with amusement.

The boys exchanged annoyed groans, not even surprised by her antics anymore, as they gathered their belongings getting ready to leave.As they began to walk away, they heard her airy voice call out from behind them, her words carrying a rare soft warmth that opposed her tough exterior.

“I would love it if you guys showed up at my game tomorrow," she called, her smile evident even though they couldn't see her face.Though their heads weren’t facing her, both boys felt a giddy anticipation stir within them as they made their way off the court.

•

•

The next day, both boys arrived at the tennis court, their anticipation piling up with each step as they navigated through the bustling crowd. Their day had been a whirlwind of non Y/N tennis practice and classes, and they couldn't help but wonder if they should have skipped the latter as they scanned the packed arena. Coaches from various schools, students, and eager spectators filled every available space, their collective excitement palpable in the air.

After some searching, the boys eventually found two seats in the stands, settling into the middle row adorned in their red college tennis t-shirts. Mark nervously chewed on a churro, his heart racing as his anxiety starts to spike, as he awaited the start of the final game. Now while they boys were confident in Y/N's abilities, their nerves were stirred by the buzz surrounding her opponent, a formidable German player who had garnered quite a reputation.

Mark's hearts was beating fast as he fidgeted in his seat, his mind swirling with thoughts of the impending match. Haechan, ever the calming presence, turned to him, rubbing his back in a comforting gesture.

"Chill out bro, she'll do fine," Haechan reassured him with a laugh, reaching over to take a bite of Mark's churro. Mark offered a weak nod in response, his apprehension still evident despite his friend's attempt to ease his nerves.

"Dude, I know, but still," Mark sighed, his eyes glued to the court below as they waited for the match to begin, their hearts pounding in unison ready for the match to end before it even started. Both boys sat on the edge of their seats, their eyes glued to the court below, anxiety coursing through their veins as the announcer's voice resonated through the overpriced black speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming to the 2023 women’s tennis final. Let's welcome to the court two formidable competitors tonight: representing the home team, we have the fiery powerhouse, Y/N L/N!”The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers, and Mark and Haechan joined in enthusiastically, their voices ringing out amidst the excitement.

Their breath caught in their throats as they watched Y/N dash onto the court, a vision of athleticism and grace. She wore an all-white Adidas tennis dress, accented with a red bow that proudly displayed her school colors. Her hair was woven into an intricate braid, and her pristine white shoes hinted at the elegance she always brought onto the court. Clutching a slightly red racquet, which appeared to be brand new, Y/N's face radiated with a contagious smile, her confidence contagious as she waved to the crowd, her eyes locking onto Mark and Haechan with a warmth that sent a surge of excitement through them.

As the announcer introduced her opponent, Ingrid Schmidt from Germany, the cheers were more subdued. Ingrid, with her blonde bouncing ponytail and deep scowl, exuded an aura of intense determination that stood in stark contrast to Y/N's easy confidence.

The two girls approached the net, and Y/N extended her hand in a gesture of sportsmanship. As they shook hands, Y/N leaned in to whisper something in Ingrid's ear, a playful glint in her eye. Ingrid's reaction, a dismissive eye roll and a scoff, only fueled the intrigue, leaving Mark and Haechan to speculate on the nature of their exchange as the game started with competitive tension hanging in the air.

The tennis match unfolded like a symphony, with a flurry of powerful serves and lightning-fast volleys dancing across the court. Y/N and Ingrid engaged in a fierce battle, their movements a graceful fusion of athleticism and finesse. Each exchange was punctuated by blistering groundstrokes that landed with pinpoint accuracy, showcasing the players' unrivaled skill and determination.

Despite Ingrid's insane skill, it was evident to everyone watching that Y/N was simply in a league of her own. Mark watched in awe as Y/N moved across the court with a fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly. With each swing of her racquet, she effortlessly unleashed a torrent of power and precision, her movements reminiscent of a prima ballerina performing Swan Lake, her ponytail bouncing with each graceful step.

"FUCK!" Ingrid yelled in frustration as Y/N unleashed a particularly devastating shot, causing Ingrid to slip up and miss her return.

"Code violation, Schmidt!" the announcer boomed, but Y/N merely smirked, her confidence unshaken as she watched her opponent falter. The boys could only watch in awe as the game resumed, Y/N's serve eliciting gasps of admiration from the crowd. It was a sight to behold, the ball soaring through the air with speedy grace and elegance that seemed almost surreal.

As the mix of cheers and chatter stretched across the court, the tension in the stadium reached a fever pitch. Despite Ingrid's valiant efforts, Y/N maintained an easy lead in points, inching closer and closer to victory with each passing moment. And finally, after a somewhat tough battle that left both players breathless, Y/N delivered the winning point, her triumph met with an eruption of applause and cheers from the crowd.

As Ingrid angrily beat her racket in defeat, Y/N let out a giddy scream of victory, her exhilaration contagious as she basked in the praises of the crowd. Mark and Haechan quickly made their way down to the court, eager to congratulate their friend on her well-deserved win, their hearts swelling with pride and admiration..

The boys begin talking over each other showering her in compliments. “That was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my life. Haechan says. “Please do my balls like that next.” Y/N laughs as Mark elbows him- “No but seriously- Mark begins You were incredible today. I mean it wasn't even like tennis, it was an entirely different game.”

“You’re truly amazing.” Y/N smiles at them before embracing both of the boys. They both stand their surprised at the randomsudden affection.

“Thank you guys.” She says earnestly. Before reaching for mark’s phone

“Open this.” She states. Mark nods quickly entering his passcode.

“WAIT HOLD UP you’re giving him your phone number because he was glazing you but not me.” Haechan says almost pouting.

“No you idiot.” Y/N says. I’m having a party tonight a bunch of rich pricks and coaches are gonna be there, I thought I would invite you guys. the boys look at each other surprised before nodding.

“Dress nice please Minhyung and Donghyuck.” she says smiling, showing her teeth.

“WAIT YOU KNOW OUR NAMES???” the boys say at the same time surprised.

“Well yes why wouldn’t i..” the girl says tilting her head at their dumb question. “Well you never asked.” Haechan states and we don’t even go by our government names.” Mark finishes.

“i did a bit of research.” she smiles before someone calls her name. she waves a goodbye at the boys before jogging to a crowed calling her name.

“She’s so fucking weird, I know her pussy is crazy good.” Haechan says jokingly, as Mark watches her fade into a crowd of excited people.

•

•

Now despite being a college student, Mark harbored a distinct distaste to parties and overly large crowds. Haechan, his roommate, embodied the opposite end of the spectrum—a typical frat boy wannabe who attends all the biggest parties. Throughout their 3 years at college, Mark was convinced Haechan had attended every party every thrown on campus or off, a feat Mark found perplexing considering the consistency of his friend’s hangovers and yet his remarkable ability to maintain attendance in classes and excel at tennis.

Haechan sauntered into their shared college apartment’s living room, clad in a sky blue button-down polo paired nicely with khaki trousers that accentuated his well-defined thighs. He settled onto the couch beside Mark, his gaze eyeing Mark’s figure as the latter nervously tapped his foot. Mark, sporting a fitted long-sleeved button-down that showcased his growing biceps and snug blue jeans cinched with a belt and adorned with a silver chain, playfully punched his friend.

“Try-hard,” Haechan teased, eliciting a playful jab from Mark in response. “Ready to bounce?” Mark inquired, retrieving the keys from their weathered brown coffee table. With a swift exit from their apartment, they made their way to Mark’s black car, leading the way to the address provided by Y/N.

As the engine hummed softly, the boys lounged in the car, nodding along to the tunes dancing from the radio while engaging in casual banter. It was a familiar ritual, comfortablity filled the air between them. However, Haechan couldn't resist bringing up their upcoming tennis match.

"You're in for a challenge, Mark. Let's face it, you've never been able to beat me," Haechan teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Mark chuckled, a hint of defiance in his response. "Hey, I've been putting in the work. Don't be surprised if I give you a run for your money this time dickhead."

Haechan raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by Mark's sudden confidence. Their banter continued, laced with friendly jabs and laughter, each remark fueling their competitive spirits.

“Desperate for her number, huh?” Haechan retorted, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re the one talking about letting her mess with your balls, Hyuck.” Mark shoots back.

Their laughter once again fills the car as they continued to playfully joke with each other, the excitement of the evening's events adding an extra layeto their exchange. Finally, they arrived at their destination—a sprawling mansion adorned with luxurious sports cars lining the street.

After a brief struggle to find parking, they made their way inside, greeted by the pulsating beats of dance music and the buzz of animated conversations. The high-class surroundings dazzled them as they navigated through the crowd, their eyes drawn to the grandeur of the estate.

Amidst the sea of glamorous guests, they found themselves, settling into two chairs to get a full layout on the type of party the were at. Snacking on treats and sipping on beers, they exchanged jokes and observations, enjoying the rare opportunity for both of them to be at a party.

Suddenly, their attention was drawn to her, and both Mark and Haechan found themselves momentarily transfixed on the figure in front of them. Y/N emerged onto the dance floor, a vision of ethereal beauty that left them speechless. Her h/c hair, usually styled in a braid or ponytail, cascaded in loose waves around her shoulders, adding to the enchantment of her presence. Clad in a stunning green floral dress that hugged her curves perfectly , the fabric shimmered softly under the glow of the lights, leaving an impression of effortless elegance.

Today, Y/N had adorned herself with a touch of makeup, enhancing her already captivating features. Dark and sleek eyeliner accentuated her mesmerizing doe eyes, while her long lashes fluttered with every movement, like butterfly wings. Her lips, painted a delicate shade of pink, appeared plump and inviting, complementing the subtle flush that graced her cheeks. Despite the challenge of dancing in heels, she moved with a grace that seemed otherworldly, just like how she looked when she played tennis. Absolutely fucking stunning.

As the music shifted to "Flashing Lights," her gaze met theirs, and with a subtle beckoning gesture, she invited them to join her on the dance floor. The boys, affected slightly by the buzz of their drinks and the allure of her presence, eagerly rose to their feet and made their way towards her.

“As i recall i know you love to show off”

Y/N greeted them with a warm smile, her eyes alight with mischief. "Well, look who decided to grace my little party with their presence," she remarked, her voice carrying a playful tone as she welcomed them into her world.

"Little?" Mark's voice squeaked incredulously. "I've seen so many famous tennis players, 'little' my ass. Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at Mark’s remark. “Excuse me for trying to be a bit humble then,” she replied, her laughter filling the air as her hips swayed to the beat of the music. Taking both boys by the hand, she pulled them into a lively dance, their movements synchronized effortlessly.

"But I never thought you'd take it this far,"

Haechan’s eyes fixed on Y/N, not being able to hold backing on complimenting her. "You look really good, Y/N," he remarked, his admiration evident in his gaze.

“What do i know”? (flashing lights)”

“What do i know? (flashing lights)”

"Thanks," Y/N replied with a smile, her eyes flickering between the two admittedly handsome boys. "You guys clean up nicely as well," she added, a genuine warmth in her voice that sent a flush to both of their cheeks.

As the music boomed around them, they danced in perfect harmony, their laughter mingling with the beat. Y/N's eyes danced between Mark and Haechan, a playful glint in her gaze as she observed their lidded expressions.

"You guys aren't half bad dancers," she teased, her words punctuated by their shared laughter.

"I know it's been awhile, sweetheart. We hardly talk. I was doing my thing."

The boys shared a playful giggle as they took turns spinning Y/N around the dance floor, their laughter mingling with the pulsating rhythm of the music. With each twirl, they savored the fleeting moments, their movements synchronized. As the music reached an end, Y/N leaned in close, whispering something in each of their ears, causing their faces to flush with a shared understanding.

Grabbing their hands with an air of determination, Y/N led them through a pathway that wound its way through the backyard of the estate, the fading music serving as a backdrop to their little secret adventure. As they emerged from the wooded area, the tranquil expanse of the beach stretched out before them, the gentle lapping of the waves providing a soothing melody to their senses.

Taking seats on chairs arranged by the shore, the trio settled into a comfortable silence, the cool sea breeze mingling with the warmth of their shared company. Y/N, her eyes sparkling with mischief, couldn't resist a playful jab at their indulgence in alcohol before their upcoming games.

"Drinking is kind of stupid when you both have games tomorrow," she teased, her gaze flickering between the boys. Tempted to flick their foreheads for this.

Haechan rolled his eyes, retrieving a cigarette and offering one to Mark before lighting it for him. Y/N raised an eyebrow at the gesture, declining the offer with a faux disgusted giggle.

"Hell no, those are nasty," she exclaimed, her voice light hearted.

Haechan shrugged nonchalantly, taking a drag from his cigarette. As Y/N e/c orbs peer into Mark’s. “That’s exactly why y’alls stamina is so shit. You’re killing your precious lungs.”

Mark chuckled at the girl reprimanding their bad habits, he crosses his legs as he blew smoke into the air. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he replied, his tone laced with amusement before moving to another subject.

"So, why exactly did you bring us here?" Mark inquired, his gaze drifting towards the ocean as Y/N turned to face the vast expanse before them. His heart skipped a beat as he admired her beautiful side profile, captivated by her pure natural allure. With a shrug, Y/N remained silent, leaving an air of intrigue hanging between them as they all savored the serenity of the moment.

"I dunno, it was getting loud over there, and I didn't wanna fake socialize with people who aren't better than me," Y/N explained with a smirk, her eyes twinkling mischievously as the boys chuckled at her honesty. It was a classic Y/N move, prioritizing authenticity over superficiality.

"So, you're hanging with us because we're on your level now?" Haechan teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed Y/N's reaction.

Y/N burst into laughter, shaking her head in amusement. "Nah, you guys are just decent company at times," she replied lighthearted, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them easily. As the three go quiet again, Haechan felt a surge of boldness wash over him. Whether it was the influence of the alcohol, Y/N’s captivating beauty, or the buzz from the cigarette, he blurted out the idea of Y/N coming over to their apartment later that night.

Y/N's soft giggles filled the air, and Mark groaned inwardly, already bracing himself for the inevitable rejection. To their surprise, however, Y/N nodded in agreement.

"Oh, what the hell, why not?" she replied with a shrug, her playful demeanor sparking a newfound excitement in the boys.

"But you try anything funny, and I will beat you to death with my racquet , and I mean that," she added with an scary grin, her warning laced with a hint of seriousness that sent a shiver down the boys' spines. With nervous laughter, they led her back to their car, their minds buzzing with anticipation for the night ahead.

•

•

The car ride was enveloped in a tranquil silence, the soft strains of "Good Days" gently filling the airwaves as Mark navigated the familiar route to their off-campus apartment. As they pulled into the parking spot, Haechan gracefully exited the passenger seat, extending a courteous gesture to Y/N who had opted to sit in the back. "After you, milady," he quipped, offering his hand to assist her as they made their way towards the apartment.

Mark fumbled with the keys for a moment before finally unlocking the door, gesturing inside as he ushered Y/N in. "Welcome to our humble abode," he declared, a hint of pride evident in his voice as Y/N surveyed the surprisingly tidy surroundings.

The apartment exuded a cozy charm, with vinyl records and album posters adorning the walls, interspersed with a smattering of tennis plaques and a vintage karaoke machine nestled in the corner. A case of beer awaited in the living room, a silent invitation to unwind and enjoy the evening.

"Wow, it's really nice in here," Y/N remarked, slipping off her heels and settling onto the inviting gray couch.

The boys followed suit, with Mark offering Y/N a beer, which she graciously accepted. As they cracked open their beverages, the atmosphere relaxed further, the alcohol warming their throats and each others presences filling the room with warmth.

Seated on the couch, they engaged in casual conversation, with Y/N initiating a series of random personal questions that sparked laughter and semi-detailed answers. Before long, the effects of the alcohol began to take hold, their inhibitions loosening as they found themselves sprawled on the floor, Y/N playfully investigating them from her perch on the couch. As the night unfolded, they embraced the weird intimacy of their shared moments, the alcohol-induced haze adding to the boldness of their hangout.

"How long have you known each other?" Y/N inquired, her curiosity piqued as she leaned back on the couch, her eyes flickering between Mark and Haechan.

"Since we were 12," Mark replied, launching into a detailed account of their shared history, recounting the years spent at a preppy all-boys boarding school.

“It makes sense, you guys seem really close. Not gonna lie, I thought you were boyfriends at first,” Y/N admitted with a half-serious tone, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “And as much as I tease you guys, I’m not a homewrecker,” she added, her words causing both boys to flush crimson and nearly choke on their beers.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Mark interjected hastily, wiping his beer-covered mouth with the back of his hand. Despite his initial embarrassment, Haechan couldn't help but giggle as a memory from a few years ago resurfaced.

"Well, actually..." Haechan began, but Mark caught wind of what he was about to say and attempted to interject. However, Y/N's curiosity was piqued, and she leaned forward, her attention solely focused on Haechan as she urged him to continue, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Well, a few years ago, Mark needed help learning how to kiss a girl, right?" Haechan started, prompting an audible groan from Mark, who buried his face in a nearby pillow, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Haechan continued, his laughter slightly slurred from the alcohol. "So, he asked for my help," he admitted, wiggling his eyebrows playfully as Mark retaliated with a punch to his arm.

"Markie over here didn't lose his virginity until he was like 20, and he definitely was late on kissing girls," Haechan teased, earning another embarrassed groan from Mark. "So, around this time, we were about 17 or 18-ish, and little Markie here comes to me, all upset, saying some girl from his class asked him out, but he's nervous because he's never kissed a girl before."

Y/N nodded, intrigued by the unfolding story, her eyes flickering between Haechan and Mark. "So, we sat in my bedroom, watching kissing videos on fucking pornhub, weird, right?" Haechan chuckled, glancing at Mark, who looked away in embarrassment.

"And then I told him to apply that to me," Haechan continued, his tone tinged with amusement. "And we kissed. He actually wasn't too bad, surprisingly, a bit better than some of the girls I've been with," he confessed honestly raising his arms up , chuckling as Mark reprimanded him for telling the story.

"See, I knew there was something between you two," Y/N remarked with a giggle, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned back on the couch, reveling in the shared intimacy of their conversation.

“Ugh, it was one time. I’d rather have a tennis ball hit at my balls full speed than kiss him again.” Mark whines as Haecahn laughs at the boy.

For a minute the room went silent at the and Y/N stared at both of the boys mischievously before sitting up on the couch and patting each spot next to her.

“Come here,” she says, eyeing both of the boys as they both perk up in synchronicity.

“Which one of us?”

Y/N just shrugs as both boys quickly join her on the couch.

The tension in the air is electrifying as Y/N turns to face Haechan. His big brown eyes are beautiful and full of mischief; she’s never been this close to him before, and she can see the little moles on his face, which fit his golden skin so well. She leans in, landing a kiss on his soft, plump lips. She whines into this kiss, slightly tugging at his hair as he squeaks at the sudden pain, which felt so good at the same time. She can taste the cigarette smoke on his breath with the combo of beer and peppermint he and Mark popped in the midst of their earlier conversation. The taste was so addicting that she almost didn’t want to pull away.

Mark is sitting on the other side of her, watching everything go down. His heart is beating out of his chest, and he feels blood rush down his pants. He doesn’t know if he feels jealously or turned on, maybe a combo of both, but holy shit, this has to be the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

Haechan whines as his eyes flutter open, his eyelashes tickling Y/N’s cheek as he slowly pulls away , watching as Y/N turns to mark.

“Don’t think I forgot you, Markie.”

The boy blushes at the nickname he’s never heard her say before, and he can feel himself getting more and more antsy as she leans in, crashing his lips into hers.

Not to much surprise, Mark was way more of a messier kisser than Haechan. Maybe it was just desperation, but Mark was practically eating Y/N’s mouth, devouring her entirely. Haechan giggled watching Mark try and be in control, only for Y/N to bite his lips, causing him to yelp a bit as his pink lips open slightly and Y/N takes this opportunity to stick her tongue in his mouth. After awhile, Mark gets a hang of it, and their tongues dance in each other's mouths, swapping spit that tasted of alcoholic peppermint nicotine, and cherry lipgloss which only made them feel more dizzy.

She threads her slender hands through Mark’s pitch-black hair. Tugging it like she did Hyuck’s causing Mark to moan loudly into her mouth. Y/N giggles against his mouth before slowly separating a trail of spit, connecting their mouths together.

“Okay no homo, but that was so fucking hot,” Haechan says, staring at the two lust evident in his lidded eyes as they all giggle at his remark.

“Come a bit closer. Y/N commands softly but sternly. Both boys quickly obey, not questioning her intentions one bit.

Y/N turns again to kiss Haechan, he eagerly engulfs her lips, as Y/N feels a strong hand trailing her body, to her surprise not wanting to be left out Mark’s hand is swirling on her thigh, hiking up her floral green dress before tracing his hand around her whole body finding her neck.

Y/N moans from the stimulation of Haechan’s tongue, hungrily exploring her mouth and then desperate touch of Mark’s finger tips surveying her neck. Mark then latches his mouth on Y/N’s neck, causing an high pitched moan causing her to pull away a bit from Haechan. The slow peppered kisses turn into biting as Mark sucks little mark’s on her neck (lol). Haechan grabs her thighs, before moving close to kiss her deeper. He can feel her mouth vibrate in his as his friend leaves trails all along her long neck.

Haechan being competitive person he was, moves his hand up closer, finding her soaked black panties and trailing his fingers around hee clit slowly from the outside. Y/N arches her back in pleasure unintentionally moving away from Mar’s assault on her neck.

“Holy Shit, you’re so fucking wet.” Haechan stammers in awe. Y/N needly whines as Haechan moves his fingers a little bit more.

"I can’t believe you’re getting off to this; you’re so weird.” He says, laughing, as she rolls her eyes too horny to argue.

Mark, who is just as competitive, was raking his brain trying to figure out how to one up on Haechan. He begins to move his hand down from her neck, to her dress so he can grope her tits. Before he could get a chance, Y/N swiftly pushed the boys back, seizing their hands of in a sudden, decisive move. Their faces morphed into surprise and confusion , gazing at her with pleading, puppy-like expressions.

She coos as them opening her mouth to speak, her throat slightly hoarse from their activities. Turning to Mark, she plants a gentle kiss on his lips, then repeats the gesture with Haechan. With a smirk on her face, she draws both of their lips close to hers, initiating a three-way , all their lips drunkily taking each other's in, in a blissful haze. They weren’t worried about anything in the world other than tasting each other. Moans escape their lips, the sounds were so lewd, but melodic at the same time. Their tongues poke out exploring one another eagerly, mingling saliva as they hungrily devour each other's essence.

Y/N leans back, her eyes half-lidded, savoring the scene unfolding before her. In a sneaky movement, she removes herself from the embrace of the two boys. Watching as, the brown and black-haired boy’s become lost in each other's lips, completely oblivious to the fact that Y/N is no longer in the middle.

Sensations of warmth and arousal intensify within her as she continues to observe the scene before her, slowly biting her lips lustfully. With each passing moment, their kisses grow more fervent, each boy trying to fight for dominance. Haechan emerges victorious, asserting his control over Mark with a deep moan inducing kiss. His fingers tangle in Mark's soft hair, eliciting raspy moans of desire from the other boy. Haechan responds with a throaty groan, deepening their kiss with an insatiable hunger to please.

Y/N gasps softly, as she moves her hand to her black panties, slowly sticking her hand in and playing with her clit area as she softly pants, watching the scene in front of her.

The boys come to an erupt stop, as their ears hear the melodic voice of what seems to be an angel in disguise. They open their eyes and look at each other, both of the boys eyes were blown out, their pupils huge and lips swollen as they back away from each other. They turn their attention to the girl laying back on the couch in-between them, they eyes follow her delicate fingers, watching her play with her soaked cunt caused by them. A groan is drawled out of both of the boys, both of them hard as they feel their pants strain against them.

Mark's gaze scans over Y/N's form, taking in every detail before exchanging a knowing glance with Haechan, silently conveying his intentions. With a mischievous grin, he moves towards Y/N, prompting her to let out an unexpected shriek as he scoops her up into his arms.

As Mark carries her, Haechan follows closely behind, their footsteps echoing through the hallway as they make their way to Haechan's room. Haechan throws open the door, and Mark gently sets Y/N onto the bed. Y/N confidently giggles, scooting back against some soft pillows as Mark gets up to close the bedroom door.She looks up and down at the boys, before clearing her throat.

“I’m in charge. I hope you guys know that,” she says, crossing her arms as Mark joins Haechan and her on the bed.

“And for the love of God, use condoms; I don’t know where your dick’s have been.” She snickers as Haechan points to the dresser next to her, signaling her to open it.

She opens a brown drawer to find a pack of condoms before tossing them on the bed.

“How often does this happen? going after the same girl, I mean?” Y/N says, giggling.

“Not as often as you think” Haechan says, as Mark nods, saying they tend to have different types.

Y/N hums looking at them.

“What makes me so different?”

The way she said it was so sultry, almost like it was a challenge, which, for some reason, turned on the two even more.

“Please let us show you.” Mark says, inching closer, and Y/N nods at the eager boy, patting his head.

“Be my fucking guest.”. she replies shortly.

She slowly pulls off her dress, revealing the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her tits sit perfectly, and she turns to Haechan as she hears a loud groan from him. She giggles, slowly taking off her pants, getting a gasp from Mark.

“Ugh, Y/N, please stop teasing us.” Mark says strained. His eyes were dark and desperate, as the girl ahushed him before flinging her panties at him. Catching them he brings his nose up to the piece fabric taking in the scent and groaning.

“You’re such a freak,” Y/N says, laughing before turning her attention to the two boys equally.

 ��Strip,” she says in one word, and in a whirlwind, both of the boys are sitting on the fluffy, king-size bed naked in front of her.

“Fuck.” Y/N mutters, looking at the two.The vigorous practice, plus the diet and gym routine she had given both of the boys, had them looking too fucking good. Both of their bodies were so toned and sculpted, with flat tummies and abs that would make any Greek god jealous. Y/N let out a small moan at this beautiful sight.

“Eager, much?.” Haechan cheekily says, eyeing her.

“Don’t get too cocky; remember, I’m the one calling the shots.” She says she is crawling towards the boy, grabbing his chin and squeezing is cheeks. Haechan nods. gazing at the girl, not even wanting to argue with the beautiful goddess in front of him. She then turns to face Mark, grabbing his chin as well with her free hand.

“Show me how bad you fucking want me,” she whispers loud enough for them to hear.

All of a sudden, hands are everywhere, grabbing at everything. The room is filled with desperation, sweat, and melodic sounds as both boys explore Y/N’s bodies. Their eyes took everything in as their fingers delved into every part of her body before Haechan decided to sink a slender finger in her cunt, receiving a shaky moan.

“Shush, baby, it’s okay; we’ve got you,” Mark says.

“Mmhm, we are going to take such good care of you.” Haechan adds, slowly pumping his finger in and out, feeling it get wetter and wetter.

“Fuckk, you’re so fucking wet.” Mark says watching as his best friend's fingers go in an out-of Y/N’s puffy cunt, he can’t help but slowly rub himself at the sight.

“Shut up, I’m in charge.” Y/N huffs out before being shushed.

“Oh, please, you love this; you’re so fucking wet from watching me and my best friend play with each other and play with you.” Haechan hums, adding an extra finger and slightly speeding up.

“You’re going to be so good for me and Markie, hm?” Haechans says, watching as the girl's eyes roll to the back of her head, slowly muttering a defeated, “Mhmm.”

“Damn, I wasn’t expecting you to give up this easily, he says before turning his attention to Mark. “Quit playing with your dick and join me.” He scoffs as Mark’s hands glide against Y/N’s tits, flicking and toying with her nipples, listening to the sounds of her moans like it’s the most beautiful song he’s ever heard.

He lowers his mouth to her perfect tits, clasping his mouth on the buds before sucking rhythmically. Y/N’s back arches, her cunt clenching around Haechan's fingers.

“Fuck Mark, keep doing that; her little cunt is squeezing my fingers so tight; fuckk, I bet it feels so good.”

Mark moans at his friends words as he sucks harder and plays with the other tit in his hand.

“Yeah, good boy, keep doing that.” Haechan says watching at how both Y/N and Mark react to the praise he gave Mark.

Mark groans at the praise, eyeing Haechan as intensifies his pace, eliciting louder and more desperate cries from Y/N. Her orgasm approaching rapidly, her moans escalating in getting higher and higher. However, just as she fills her organs about to wash over, Haechan abruptly stops, leaving Y/N to bolt up in frustration. "Ah! Why did you stop?" she groans, her expression a mix of defeat and longing, her eyes pleading with Haechan as Mark retreats, creating space between them.

“Because I don’t want you to cum yet,” he simply says.

“You need to cum on one of our cocks.” He adds, causing both Mark and Y/N to lewdly gasp.“Our Markie has been so good, don’t you think?” Haechan says, looking at y/n, her eyes sparking as she nods.

“Why don’t you give me a little treat? You know he’s been practicing so hard just to get your attention, just to get your number.” He trails off, and I think he deserves this“.

Y/N nods slowly, getting off the bed, and finding her way on her knees. She watches as Mark turns to face the edge of the bed, eyes looking down at her, and she swears she can see his heart being out of his chest.

“H-Hey, Y/N” Mark stutters lustfully.

“Hi Markie,” Y/N says just as lustfully before tracing a hand on his thigh, slowly grabbing his hard cock and pumping it.

Mark immediately reacts, bucking his hips as he lets out groans at the sensation.

“Open your hand.” Haechan says to Y/N as he sits next to Mark.

The girl obeys; opening her hands as Haechan spats in them. Mark tilts his head quizzically, then he feels his best friend's warm spit on his cock being pumped by the girl of any persons dreams, and he can’t help but absolutely lose his mind in the moment.

Haechan closes the small distance between him and Mark, his breath hot against his ear as he murmurs words of praise and desire, fueling the intensity of this scene. With a sense of urgency, he pulls Mark into a passionate kiss, their lips meeting in an electrifying embrace. The intensity of their kiss sparks a reaction from Y/N, who widens are mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip of Mark's cock, sending shivers coursing through his body as she begins to softly suck.

Breaking away from the kiss, Mark guides Y/N's flowy hair, urging her to go deeper, whimpering cutely in the proces. She complies, knowing exactly how to please him. Mark's head falls back, his hair disheveled, strands clinging to his forehead like he's just emerged from a heated tennis match. Occasionally, his gaze meets Y/N's big, doe-like eyes as she works her magic, causing a surge of arousal mixed with a pang of overwhelmingness to ripple through him. At this point Mark unable to tear his gaze away, even as the heat of the moment threatens to overwhelm him.

As Mark's hips buck forward, Y/N's hand travels up Haechan's thigh, her fingers finding his thick hard cock, guiding it with deliberate precision. "Holy fuck, this slut knows how to handle cocks," Haechan moans appreciatively, his voice thick with desire as he encourages her to quicken her pace. “Maybe tennis isn’t the only thing you’re good at- He stammers barely finishing his sentence so loss in pleasure. Y/N groans around Mark’s cock, as she can sense him getting closer by the twitching of his legs.

Sensing that he’s about to cum, she takes her hand off of Haechan, focusing all her attention on Mark. His exclamations of "fuck," "shit," and "dude" fill the air, punctuating the intensity of the moment as he edges closer to climax.

She takes him in the back of her throat as she feels his cock twitch in her mouth, releasing a slightly sweet and salty thick liquid, which she swallows half of before getting off her knees and turning to kiss Haechan, Mark’s cum still in her mouth.

Although he just came, Mark can feel himself getting hard all over again watching Y/N and his best friend swap his cum in their mouths before they swallow, it backing away from each other, smirking.

“Good job, Markie." she says pinching the boy's cheeks before she feels two bodies pin her down.

 “Ah, we aren’t done with you just yet.” Haechan says as Y/N gulps a bit.

“Remember I said I wanted you to cum all over our cocks?”Y/N nods as Haechan smiles wickedly, looking at Mark. “So that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

“Mark, sit and watch how I tame this slut.” Mark nods obediently as he watches Y/N whimper at the degrading nickname. He watches as Haechan quickly slips a condom on and positions himself right in between Y/N’s sticky thighs.

“Beg for it,” Haechan says, looking down at the girl.

“Oh, cmon, Donghyuck, stop it.” She sassily says using his full name.

This causes Haechan to softly grab the girl's neck and getting near her ear.

“Be a fucking good girl and beg; you know you fucking want it.” He demands sternly, signaling that he is not playing any games. Y/N gulps before opening her mouth to beg.

“Please, hyuckie, I need your cock so bad, please fuck.” She breathed out slightly embarrassed, causing Haechan to evilly giggle at her submission.

“Fuck, I wish you could be like this all the time. He says as he slowly slips the tip in, causing the two to both moan.

“Oh fuck, this hurts.” Y/N whimpers, her eyes watering, as Mark glides his hand over her hair, playing with it, hushing her and whispering sweet words.

“Oh, cmon, you can’t take it,” Haechan says, slowly lowering himself more as he feels her tight pussy squeeze around him.

“See, you’re squeezing around me, and I can feel you getting wetter, you fucking love it,” he says, bottoming out and pushing his fat cock into her.

She moans, almost crying, as Mark continues to play with her hair, trying to calm her down as Haechan begins to go at a steady pace.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight and wet, you’re swallowing my fucking cock whole.”

Y/N moans in esctacy as the pain fades into pure pleasure.

“S-sooo good, hyuckie.” She purrs, her eyes squeezing closed .

“Aht, open those pretty eyes doll, Haechan says, reaching down to grab her face.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you, slut.” He ordered causing Y/N to gush around him, only makes him speed up.

“Yeah, you like that? You like when I degrade you while my soft little best friend coddles you, hm?” Y/N whimpers, shaking her head and babbling incoherent nonsense as Mark pulls her hair a bit.“Use your words when Haechan is talking to you baby.” Mark says, surprising both Haechan & Y/N.

“Y-yes, sir,” Y/N stammers.

“Well, who are you talking to, Haechan or Me?” Mark says sternly tugging a bit more as she utters both softly.

“Yeah, that’s our good girl,” Mark says, feeling this surge of confidence out of nowhere.

Mark watches as Haechan continues to fuck Y/Ns cunt, igniting a pang of jealousy within him. He wants more than anything to feel her warm cunt coating his cock. He groans at the thought of it, wishing he could trade places with Haechan.

Haechan laughs, looking at Mark’s desperate state, before raising an eyebrow practically reading the boy’s mind .

“You want a turn?”

Mark eagerly nods as, slowly pulls out of Y/N, she moans at the absence.

“Oh, don’t be so sad, doll; Markie just wants a turn.” Hyuck winks before moving so Mark can get in between her thighs. Mark shuffles off the bed before looking at Y/N’s needy state.

There was something so hot about seeing their arrogant, sassy “coach” absolutely fucking desperate. Her eyes were glazed and wet as a few tears stained her beautiful cheeks; the makeup she had on from the party was smeared; her lips plump and swollen; and in the dim bedroom light, he could make out the marks and hickeys from earlier on her neck.

His eyes trailed down to her cunt; it’s still wet and waiting to be touched. He notices that it’s a bit puffy and swollen from Haechan’s assault on it.

Mark groans, biting his lip before hovering over the girl closer.

“Hey!” he says looking down into her beautiful eyes.

“Hi Markie.” She gives me a half-smile, her eyes pleading to be used.

Before she could say anything else, she yelps as she felt herself being flipped over on her stomach. Mark quickly grabbing her hair into a make shift pony, as she arched back from pleasure and pain.

Haechan whistles as he makes a comment not realizing Mark was such an “ass guy” Mark ignored him and rubs y/n’s ass groaning before giving a small slap, she moans enjoying it more than she’d like to admit.

“You like that, hm?” Mark says, using his surge of confidence

“Mayb-.” Her sentence is cut off as she feels Mark slide into her wet cunt. She moans at how deep he feels. Haechan may be thick, but Mark’s cock was so long, and Y/N swears she can feel it hitting every spot as he begins to thrust.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” He groans, pushing her face down into the pillow.

“Shhhhh, be quiet, baby,” Mark says, speeding up absolutely loss in bliss.

Haechan, on the other hand, was totally enjoying the show; he decided to let his friend take over because, for some reason, he had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time something like that happened. So he sat on the other end of the bed, pumping his cock, watching his best friend fuck Y/N so desperately.

Haechan pumps his thick cock faster his tip is bright red and his hands slightly slippery, a mix of spit, cum, and the wetness from being Y/N’s warm cunt. Haechan moans, eyes glued at the sight.

Mark can feel himself getting closer and closer as he speeds up.“F-fuck mark, I'm going to cum please, please.” Y/N whimpers into the pillow; they can almost barely make out her garbled speech as Mark speeds up even faster. He reaches his hand to toy with her clit, causing her to cry into the pillow in pleasure.

“Fuck yes, cum all over my cock, baby, show me how good we make you feel,” Mark moans, feeling his orgasm catch up as well.

With one hand Haechan lifts Y/N’s head up from the pillow as he feverishly pumps his thick cock. Reaching his breaking point , he groans her name, glazing her face in his warm cum. This in turn caused Y/N to clench around Mark’s cock even more. Mark began to quickly rub on Y/N’s swollen clit area as she lets out a string of strained moans cumming all over him.

She clenches one more time around his cock due to the overestimation, which in turn causes Mark to throw his head back, cumming with a loud moan.

The trio are all frozen for a bit before Mark slips his now soft cock out of Y/N. He takes the cum filled condom and sits it on the floor as Haechan gets up and grabs a t-shirt.

“Y/N, don’t move,” they both say at the same time. Mark leaves the room for a second, as Haechan gently begins to wipe his cum off her face.

“You know you’re very pretty,” Haechan says, staring at her. Although tired, the girl laughs, stating, I know, and thanking Haechan for cleaning her up. He nods as he watches as Mark comes back in with some clothes and some water bottles.He hands a bottle to Haechan before handing Y/N some of his own spare boxers and one of Haechan’s old t-shirts.

“I got them right out of the dryer; they’re super clean.” Y/N thanks the boy before changing in front of them.

 If they thought she was beautiful before, something about both of the boys seeing her in their clothes made her 100 times more beautiful.

 “So, are you just going to stare, or are we going to cuddle or something?” Y/N says, giggling

“I didn’t take you as a cuddler.” Haechan’s mutters

“Okay, and I didn’t expect to have a three-way with you losers; guess today is just full of surprises.” They all chuckle as they opt to all go into Mark’s room since Haechan’s sheets were soiled from their little activities.

Hand in hand, they walk the short stride to Mark’s room before they all settle under the covers. as Mark puts on some random tennis match.

“So, who’s a better kisser?” Y/N half jokingly teases, looking at Mark as he blushes.

“No comment,” he says, embarrassed, as Haechan laughs at the two.

“Sooo, can we get your number now? I mean, we literally just fucked.” Haechan says sneakily.

Y/N laughs before sinking under the covers.

“Nope, whoever wins the game tomorrow, remember, ahh, or should I say today?” Y/N evilly laughs, looking at the clock in Mark’s room, which reads 3:35 a.m..

“I would get some rest tonight, just saying.”

Both boys eyes widen in shock as their eyes land on the clock, groaning at the time.

 “Remember, boys, this is a game about winning the points that actually matter.” Y/N softly says before closing her eyes to go to bed.

Leaving both boys sitting up to rack through their brains. How the fuck are they going to beat one another?

•

•

HIIII my first full fic LOL!! i’m oddly so proud of it 😭😭😭 i loved challengers and immediately had to do a markhyuck version !!! if u haven’t seen this movie pls go see it LOL!!💞💞☺️

[jiminiecrickets]

HONEY POT. PJM / KTH / M!READER

summary. there's something wrong with the popular kids at this small-town high school. something deeply, viscerally, hauntingly wrong...

wc. 8.8k

tags. smut | top!reader, bottom!tae, switch!jimin, jimin in skirts and heels, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, biting, spitroasting, brief daddy kink (r. receiving), gratuitous blood/gore, blood as lube (from another wound), cultism & religious fervour, cannibalism, murder

note. happy halloween!! i began this in early august to be on time, but uh, we know how that turned out :')

"—and i was like, no, that isn't how this works! i'm literally the best he's ever had, why would he ever wanna break up with me? i even bought him that stupid walkman he kept whining about and he still went and cheated on me and then tried to dump me. me! how could he?"

"well, he was already on his way to being a forty-year-old junkie who lives in a trailer park and hates life. he could've had so much with you. he'll realise how much he messed up – he'll get his karma."

"i know, i know... you're right. i just wish he could've been nicer. could've saved us both the trouble."

jimin lifts his soft dark eyes from his pink handheld mirror. he smacks his glossy lips and shuts the mirror with a clack, crossing his legs the other way and leaning back against the steps of the steel bleachers. he glances up at taehyung, who sits one step above him.

dressed in a cropped, pale pink shirt and blue jeans, taehyung fans his hot face with chunky rings on each finger, eyes lifted to the sky in a futile effort to hold back tears. jimin had already helped him redo his makeup in the bathroom, and this wasn't the first time taehyung had cried over a boy. poor thing just had too big of a heart – he wasn't made for modern boys and their vices.

jimin sucks on his teeth and sighs, turning forwards to lord over the verdant grassy field, where the senior boys are engaged in tryouts for college football teams. "don't worry, honey. we'll find the right one for you eventually. maybe try an athlete? the artsy ones are always such snobs."

"oh, they aren't all that bad, really," taehyung mumbles, patting the corners of his damp eyes lightly. "anyway, they all want you, not me. they're not into anyone who isn't a cheerleader."

"you're being silly. they just don't think you're interested – you keep rejecting them." jimin scours the field, tucking his dark hair behind his ear. a diamond stud flashes under the sun. he reaches out and touches taehyung's knee, leaning in for secrecy he doesn't need. "how about that one?"

"he called me a sour bitch. no."

"and that one?"

"he made me do all the work on a paired project and took my ninety-eight for himself. no."

jimin purses his lips, eyes flickering between their faces, warm and shining under the sun. all around, they looked quite similar – all fairly muscular, with the same lazy grins. not bad for eye-candy, he supposes, but taehyung is a romantic, which is how anyone he dates manages to bury themselves so deeply in his heart.

motion by the changing rooms on the other side of the field. jimin's eyes flick over naturally, and they widen.

strong, handsome, and, most importantly, taehyung is already looking at him.

he keeps his watchful gaze discreet, following the figure as he crosses the field and joins the coach to speak with him briefly. he is handed a football, which he tosses and spins in his hands a few times, and the coach gathers a few lounging boys to help out.

they spread out, and the tryout begins.

jimin isn't an expert on the game, only knows the basics, but he knows how to read a man – and the coach is clearly impressed by what he sees. jimin observes quietly, crossing his legs and uncrossing them, as he runs circles around the rest of the boys, leaving them far in the dust.

at last, when the boys are huffing and puffing with their hands on their heads and the cute one takes his time wandering back to the coach – after meeting jimin's eyes for a quick, sparkling second – jimin turns his head in taehyung's direction.

"what about... that one?"

taehyung huffs, pressing his knees together and resting his elbows on them. jimin doesn't mention how his gaze flicks to his shoes before meeting jimin's, almost as if he didn't want to be caught looking. he gives the footballer a once-over, then inspects his nails. "too tall."

jimin watches him push back his cuticles with his thumbnail, those thick dark lashes brushing his fine cheekbones. his prettiness makes him a honeypot for invariably bad people, and though jimin feels for him, he can't say he wants him to stop trying. everyone has their place in the world – even cheaters and liars. taehyung's relationships make it easier to weed them out for proper atonement.

"are you sure?" jimin asks carefully, tilting his head. "he looks like just your type."

"i don't have a type," taehyung sighs. "if i did, it'd make finding people that much harder."

eventually, jimin hums, and turns away to watch the tryouts.

out of sight, taehyung's shoulders slump slightly, and he exhales shakily. he nibbles on the edge of his nail as his eyes follow a figure lifting a water bottle to his lips. his sweat-shining throat bobs as he swallows rapidly, and a trickle of water escapes from the corner of his lips; it trails down his neck to soak into the collar of his shirt. he wipes it away without much thought. taehyung presses his thighs together.

suddenly, jimin turns back to him, propping his chin on his palm. his eyes are big and innocent as he asks, "hey, tae? you know that ex we were talking about earlier? i want his address."

"o-oh, um – just to make him sorry, right?"

"yeah. he will be."

taehyung swallows. "yes. okay. is it bad that i feel... that i pity him?"

jimin giggles, sweet and high like a bell. he squeezes taehyung's knee. "you're my best friend. i'm not going to let anyone get away with hurting you. you know that."

"mhm, i know. just make sure nobody sees you, alright? i don't want you getting in trouble for vandalism or something."

"oh, my charges would definitely include more than petty vandalism, but you know me – i cannot be caged!" he jumps to his feet and stretches high above his head, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of pure, unblemished skin. the way he scrunches his nose slightly makes taehyung's heart flutter.

he exhales softly as his neck cracks, and he flashes taehyung a quick smile as he packs up his pin-studded messenger bag and slings it over his shoulder. "you can give me his address after school, but don't leave it too late. don't forget about the curfew. i have to go for now, but you make sure you take care of yourself, okay? if you feel too sad to study, i'm sure my mother would let you go home early if you asked."

taehyung hums and nods, leaning forward on the bench as jimin skips down the bleachers until his ivory pumps make a satisfying clack on the concrete base. "your nepo-baby status is really helpful sometimes, y'know?"

jimin beams, his eyes crinkling to crescents. "i know! see you around, honey. love you!"

"love you," taehyung echoes, and watches him go. his all-white outfit makes him as bright as the moon, and just as breathtaking. effortlessly, he carves a path through the crowds like moses and the red sea, perfectly oblivious to the power he wields over them all.

taehyung sighs and turns back to watch the tryouts, and that one special player right in the middle. just as he wishes you'd come and cheer him up, you glance over, grass stains on your shorts and a new bruise on your knee. as you meet his gaze, the biggest grin splits your face. you wave with your whole arm and taehyung giggles to himself, hiding his warm cheeks behind his knuckles as he lifts one shy hand.

his heart races. for you, he'll keep up this masquerade. this was a dangerous neck of the woods, and he wouldn't let anything steal you away – not even jimin.

he's waiting patiently for you at the edge of the field when you finally manage to break off from your mates. his slim fingers dance lightly over your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. as quickly as his touch arrives, it vanishes, his arms once more wrapped around his body like a hug.

"hey," he greets softly.

"hey yourself," you reply, amusement light on your tongue. "i saw you earlier. i hope you didn't get bored watching me chase after a ball like a dog."

he huffs. "what are you saying? dogs are cute. you were cute. i like seeing you bound across the field – you make for some especially tasty eye-candy, sweating and panting like that."

"do i, now?" you say playfully, leaning against the steel fence. he leans in too, matching your smile with a pretty, half-bitten one of his own. his lashes flutter as you tease a kiss, the tip of your nose brushing his cheek. "next thing i know, you'll be begging to lick me up."

he clicks his tongue, turning away from your almost-kiss in half-assed defiance. "tch. here i am, trying to be sweet, and you ruin it all. boys like you have only one thing on their minds."

"hey, you started it! besides, are you telling me you wouldn't wanna taste of my lollipop?" you smirk, gazing at his side profile. he's drop dead gorgeous, all full lips and big eyes, and you could easily while away your days doing nothing but admiring the symmetry of his features.

taehyung rolls his eyes, but there's no heat to it. he sniffs. "you wish. you wouldn't last long enough to enjoy the view."

you place a hand over your heart. "careful, pretty boy, or you and your mean insults could remain part of me for a long, long time. words hurt, you know?"

"what do i have to be careful for? you like me too much to do any lasting damage to me. it's nice, really. nice to know you love me – in your own, silly little way." he pokes your chest, and you catch his hand in yours and lift his knuckles to your lips. the ghost of a kiss shivers over his skin.

"silly?" you parrot, returning his hand to him with a knowing look. you rest your hip against the top of the chain-link fence, casting a glance casually over the field. "you think my acts of love are silly?"

taehyung hums, leaning over and grasping your chin. he turns your face towards him. "'sweet', then – that's probably a better word for it. none of my exes ever did what you do for me. not even close. i'm sorry, baby – please don't pout."

"i'm glaring, actually," you huff. "this is my glaring face."

"don't, you'll get wrinkles," taehyung chides. he glances around, and swiftly, like a little bird, flits up on his toes to press his lips against your cheek. in the blink of an eye, he settles back into place on his side of the fence. he sighs, and a sudden weight slumps his shoulders. you straighten, turning towards him properly.

"he noticed you," he says, his voice lower than usual. "pointed you out to me as a potential boyfriend."

the smile you were wearing drops like a stone. "he did?"

taehyung doesn't trust himself to speak; he nods instead, staring at his shoes.

"well," you say, at a loss for words. "i mean, he's tiny. what's he gonna do to me?"

his head snaps up and the intensity of his gaze catches you off-guard. "don't underestimate him. you can't. he – he can do more than hurt you. he'll ruin you.

"no, no – don't roll your eyes," he snaps. "i know, i sound paranoid, but you haven't even been here for six months. you haven't seen what i've seen." his focus flickers to your surroundings, and he seems uncomfortable even when he leans in to whisper. "please. keep away from him, don't tell anyone about us, and for the love of god, stop visiting my house after curfew. he's whip-smart – he notices it once, he'll catch on like that." he snaps his fingers. "also, we have a change of plans. mark's off the table – jimin wants him."

at that, the corners of your mouth turn down. you cross your arms. "not if i get there first."

"baby – baby, look at me. you can't risk it."

"fuck," you hiss between your teeth. you clear your throat and wipe the expression off your face, flawless neutrality taking its place. it still simmers under your skin, but it's always easier to sweep something under the rug than clean it up. "fine. i can bring a friend over tonight instead. it'll be easy enough – these sheep will follow me anywhere. we can... have him for dinner."

taehyung's eyes glimmer, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. the worry's sloughed off his shoulders for now, and that's as good as you can hope. "i've always loved your lamb steaks. i've been waiting for this – for you. i'll be at yours by seven sharp."

"wear your pretty clothes," you hum almost offhandedly as you survey your fellow students. there's not a care in the world in those empty heads. "something black – and sexy."

taehyung flicks his bangs out of his eyes. "everything i wear is sexy. you'd do well to remember that."

"yes, dear."

—

his hands shake. that oil-heat, sweat-sheen, bone-crunch. his breath rattles through his lungs like the tongue of a too-small bell.

the weight of the kitchen knife in his hand is too much – he lifts it, and it tilts forward dangerously, trembling in his red-wet palm. the silver glimmers and flickers under the yellow shed lights.

a warmth behind him, a sturdy presence – tender hands slide down his arms, tracing him from collarbone to wrist like a delicate porcelain doll. they fold around his slim fingers, big scarred knuckles too worn to be a boxer's – they wear gloves for protection.

"split the skin shallow, so you don't pierce the meat," you murmur, your breath hot against his ear. you guide his hands with your own, slowly pressing down until the pop of released pressure signifies the beginning of the cut. "all the way down, just like that... good. you slip the knife under the skin and peel it back, making a scything or slicing motion to cut the membrane. long, slow strokes to control the angle of the blade. you want the meat nice and lean."

the night is still and silent outside, not a cricket or dog to be heard. the rushing of taehyung's pulse is loud enough for them all. he can feel your excitement against him – the quickened breathing, the thudding heart, the hitched gasp when his grip tightens on the knife and steadies.

"perfect," you croon in his ear, an undercurrent of a growl echoing beneath your words. "take your time. i want your first time to be..."

you shift against him, and he feels something prod his backside. he bites down on the inside of his cheek to silence himself and takes a deep, shaky breath, pressing down with the knife. sinew and muscle part easily under the sharpened blade.

"it's easier," he whispers, barely a breath, "than i thought it would be."

"you're doing very well, but remember, i'm guiding you. you won't find a better person to teach you."

your hands are big and knowledgeable over his own, each arc of the knife steady and precise. the blood warms his skin up to the knuckles, but it pales in comparison to your own, smeared up past your wrists in a deep ruby red. a bucket by the leg of the table is full of gore, intestines wrapped around a bladder and stomach and hacked-off chunks of fat. it was a job too bloody and slippery to give to your pretty shrike.

"this will be your steak," you hum, stroking the heavy, lick-wet cut of meat almost reverentially. you press your lips to his shoulder, then to his temple. he can feel your smile against his skin. "perfect knifework. it's almost as if you've done it before."

"well, it's like you said," taehyung breathes, gently placing it in the metal bowl at the top of the table. a secondary bowl beside it is already filled with some lesser cuts of meat, which you'd done to kill time before his arrival. "there's no better person to teach me."

he turns around in your arms, carefully linking his bloodied fingers behind your head. he noses your jaw, his lips brushing over yours. the strappy black top he wears clings to him like a second skin, and the gap between it and the top of his pants reveals his toned stomach, flexing now as he presses his hips against your thigh. he whines softly as you knock his knees apart and slide your leg between his with a teasing grin.

"no need to play coy, beautiful," you purr, digging your palms into the edge of the table. "if you want it, just ask."

"but where's the fun in that?" he gasps as you nip the soft skin of his neck, canines making reds and purples bloom across his sun-kissed skin. "o-oh – y-you know you shouldn't do that, baby. not so high."

with a furrowed brow, you growl softly, slowly rocking your thigh against him. "rules, rules, rules... why does he dictate your life like this? scared of being tossed aside?"

taehyung shakes his head, his head falling back with a moan. for someone who doesn't like being marked up, he sure does make it easy. he exhales as your breath trails up his throat and over his jaw. "he's not. he doesn't."

"yet you pretend as if we've never met when he's around, and you don't say anything when he forbids you from working with your hands. he thinks you should stay clean and pretty because he likes it that way. he holds you back, and you let him."

you punctuate your words with a fist around his throat, slowly pressing in. the flush that'd dusted his chest and neck while working the knife spreads to the apples of his cheeks, sweet and shy. his breath catches, and he looks up at you through the dark forest of his lashes.

you can almost understand jimin's rules. someone as beautiful as him shouldn't need to mar his skin with stains and calluses. that he still desires it – desires to delve deep into the marrow of mortality, watch it squeeze out between his knuckles – turns your stomach, in sickness or adoration.

"i'm sorry," taehyung nearly whimpers, panting short and shallow as his blood-slick hands scramble at your shoulders and chest. his eyes are black with lust and his pulse throbs under your fingers. "i know. i just don't want to upset him. i care about him."

you don't look away when you grab one of his hands, resting over your heart. you lift his knuckles to your lips and, under the heavy haze of hunger, he watches as you wrap your lips around two of his fingers. your cheeks hollow, and your tongue swirls slowly around each joint, as if savouring more than the iron taste.

he swallows thickly as the hand around his throat shifts, less to choke and more to pull close. his heartbeat thuds at the back of his throat.

pinned between your body and the table, the tiny shed door locked behind you, he realises suddenly what it must feel like to be your prey. you have a visceral animal strength about you, muscles like steel cable wound tight, always on the brink of snapping. only the patience of a tiger in wait keeps the mask from slipping, breaking.

your canines graze his finger, held firm in the heat of your mouth. the look in your eye says it wouldn't take much to release that perfectly wound tension, to let the slick nubs of your teeth open him up.

the look in his eyes invites you to.

eventually, you pull away, a satisfied smile splitting your face. you crush your lips against his, nicking his lower lip, and he moans at the warm iron flooding his mouth. greedily, your tongue laps at the stinging cut.

"fuckin' perfect," you husk, gaze flickering down to the red smeared over his throat and jaw, then further down to the obvious bulge in his pants. you snicker. "hm. need help with that?"

"please." he reaches down, as if to undo the buttons right there and then.

you grab his wrists and tut. "sweetheart, not over our dinner. you know better than that."

he groans. "it's your fault for driving me crazy!"

in response, you just laugh and grab the bowls of steaks. it's a surprisingly light sound even though you were ready to eat him up mere moments ago. "come on, then. we've got all the good cuts already. head in and put these in the fridge; i'll deal with the carcass. i'll be quick, i promise."

"you better be," he mutters, loosening the latch on the door. "i'll kill you otherwise."

when you open the door to your bedroom, halfway through drying your hands on a tea towel, you are greeted by the sight of an angel on your bed, long slender legs spread just for you. you toss the towel onto a nearby chair and lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. you let out a slow, appreciative wolf whistle, smirking when taehyung's eyes snap open and he bolts upright. he relaxes at the sight of you, one hand already slipping back between his thighs.

"you're not much of a gentleman, leaving me alone to entertain myself. you have to make it up to me."

"demanding little thing." you click your tongue, leaving the door open and approaching him on the bed. he leans back against the piled-up pillows, sighing softly as his fingers slip back inside himself. they do so with whorish ease, and the smoky darkness of his gaze is smug.

a challenge, then? you can do that.

your fingers glide over the back of a chair, slow and thoughtful. you drag it to the end of the bed and straighten it to face him. he shivers slightly in the warm night as you take a seat, leaning back and spreading your knees. one hand rests casually on your leg and the other props itself up on the armrest, curled in a loose fist.

he pulls his fingers out slightly. you snicker at the confusion in his flickering gaze. "what are you getting up for? i was just getting comfy."

"i—" he falters. almost indifferently, his fingers glide in and out of himself, keeping himself hard while he gathers his thoughts. "but you promised you'd fuck me tonight... killing always did rile you up, red-blooded beast that you are."

"beast?" you parrot, exaggerating a pout. "aw – and here i was, thinkin' i was more than an impressive cock to you." you run your thumb over your nails, your eyes flicking to his open legs and sticking there as he pulls his fingers out to pump his dick twice, thrice. his hand travels back down. "no. i promised no such thing. after all, you've got a date with your pretty boy tomorrow, yeah? don't want him wondering why you're so loose for him, do you?"

he whimpers softly at the mention of it. his fingers dig deeper inside him, upping the pace, and his cock pulses with need. "n-no... i-i mean, i could just say i got a bigger toy..."

"oh, no, sweetheart – if you like a man, never tell them your toy is bigger than them. 'specially them rich types. they bruise easily." you sigh softly, thumb gliding over the edge of your jawline. his twitching cock blushes under the hunger of your gaze and his hole clenches. "you'll just have to wait it out. patiently."

"but i want you." he gasps, the wet squelch of lube making everything ten times dirtier. his breath quickens and he adds a third finger, shuddering at the stretch. "ah– baby, please, i've already been doing this for ages—"

"i didn't ask you to."

"your fingers are thicker than mine," he whines, eyes growing big and ever-so-slightly teary. he's good, you'll give him that. the slight lip tremble, the shaky breaths. you could make him cry properly. he's always been a pretty crier. you wonder if his eyeliner will run.

he sinks his fingers in until the knuckle and he moans, bucking onto his fingers. "god, won't you just fuck me already? why touch yourself when you can touch me? i can see how hard you are!"

you lift your hand off the bulge in your jeans and undo your belt teasingly, thoughtfully – as if you might take him up on that tasty, tasty offer. you lean back in the chair and exhale softly as you free yourself from the confines of your underwear. your cock taps your stomach and taehyung keens, unable to tear his eyes off of it as you wrap your hand around its base, stroking shallowly.

"w-wait," he gasps, beginning to pull his fingers out, "wait, i wanna – let me—"

"no," you say sharply, movements halting. "sit back. i didn't tell you to stop."

"but i can—"

"taehyung."

he quietens, chastened but obedient. he gnaws on his lower lip as his hand returns to its rightful place. he quivers as he watches your palm smooth over your tip and slide back down, precome bubbling from the slit. he can feel his own smearing over his bare stomach, hotter than his warm skin.

instinct takes over. over and over. over and over.

he's such a good boy for you – he's wasted on a creature like jimin. then again, are you really better than him? just the same, you've denied him his basest needs. to part flesh with steel, impart bliss with lust – you've just dropped one piece of control for another.

no. you can be better. you are better.

taehyung gasps sharply as you all but lunge at him, pinning him to the bed by his throat. his golden hair haloes him on the crumpled white blankets, like a gilded apollo so gently posed against marble. he blinks slowly up at you, eyes soft with worship and dark with desire, and kisses the thumb tracing the cupid's bow of his lips, a hand curled around your wrist. the other reaches for you.

you groan softly as he pumps your cock, twisting his wrist expertly. your belt buckle clinks and he giggles, eagerly reciprocating your greed. he hooks his legs loosely around your thighs.

"and you were the one preaching patience," he hums as you lean away to tug your shirt over your head. it gets tossed into a corner without so much as a glance and taehyung flushes at the view, half-lidded gaze raking every inch of revealed skin like a man starved. "oh..."

"how many times have you seen me shirtless?"

"not enough." he grabs your hand and pulls you into him, his hands locking behind your head and tugging you into a heated kiss. "you're also not bloody enough for my liking."

without waiting for a response, his teeth clamp down in the junction between your neck and shoulder, where the meat is soft and muscle is taut.

pain blooms like a shard of ice, sudden and sharp. a decisive movement, it left no room for bruising. taehyung groans, guttural, and digs his teeth in deeper, if only to keep the wound open for longer. his fingernails print stinging crescents into your biceps and he whimpers, eyes rolling back, as you shove his head into your neck, forcing the blood down his throat.

melting heat and iron, the sharp tang dissolving into sweetness – his tongue laps at the oozing wound, the arc of his teeth imprinted forever into your skin until the white of your bones will gleam under the midday sun.

when you allow him to pull away, his eyes are black, dazed and blissful. he smiles from ear to ear, teeth red and stained down the chin and throat, and crushes his lips against yours, tangling your hair in his grip and moaning sinfully loudly. his cock throbs, crushed between your bodies, and he bucks against your shaft, the vein on the underside catching against the ridge of your tip with a shuddering bolt of pleasure.

"i'm yours! i'm yours, all yours," he whispers fervently, obsessively. his tongue swipes over his lower lip, the oily heat marking him just like a sheep bloodying the muzzle of a wolf.

he smiles. he laughs. he presses your foreheads together, his stomach slick with his orgasm, and kisses you again, this time sitting upright in your arms.

"you're good to me. so, so good to me." he leaves the print of his lips against your throat and jaw like a jealous girlfriend, your own blood a perfect valentines' red. "fuck me – please? or i could suck you off, if you're still worried about tomor—oh!"

you flip him over and pull his hips towards you, slotted perfectly between your thighs. his own shine with excess lube and you push your cock between his plush thighs, thrusting impatiently to coat it. over his shoulder, he watches, wide-eyed, as you drag a few fingers up your chest towards your shoulder – towards the red bite mark leaking down your chest.

you smear the blood on your cock. taehyung's core throbs – his back arches. he nearly screams as you yank him onto your cock, burying yourself hilt-deep in not-enough thrusts. his mouth falls open as the burn sears its way up his spine and caresses his brain. he swears he can feel you in his throat.

"fuck! fu-fuck," he burbles, crying out as you set a steady pace, your hips slapping against his ass. you push his knees together with your own and his eyes show their whites, mouth open in a perpetual moan. he buries the chants into the pillow, staining it with blood, and his knuckles whiten around fistfuls of blanket as your cock scrapes his insides so deliciously, stabbing and thudding against his prostate. "fuck, oh my god, fuckfuckfuck—!"

you click your tongue, gaze glued to the point where you meet. "you've got a mouth on you, haven't ya? should fuck you until you forget how to talk. that'll clean you right up, nice and ready for your little boytoy. would you like that, sweetheart?"

"fuck, daddy, please, yes please," he whines, letting the pillow swallow the rest of his sounds. the ricochet of skin on skin echoes loudly in the cosy bedroom, and his cock throbs as it swings between his creamy thighs. shit, you could watch the ripple of his ass until the day you died, and none of it would be wasted time. you're beginning to suspect he has a stronger hold on you than you thought.

your shoulder stings like a bolt of clarity and you growl, grabbing and pulling his hips to meet your thrusts. he whimpers at the sound. "what an obedient pup. a little eager, but i s'pose that's normal, given that tonight was your first time." you huff and slap his thigh, making him yowl and his hips jerk. "wasted, you are. such steady hands. i could use someone like you."

"y-yes, yes, use me – ah, ah – love being used! mmn—!"

"not quite what i was saying, but i'll let it slide." you slam your hips into him and he chokes on it, letting his head falls limply to the pillow. he hasn't felt your cock in so, so long – he can't believe he'd almost forgotten how good it felt, how it filled him up just right to knock his brains out. you gripped him so tightly, too, as if he might get up and leave at any time – but you should know by now that he'll always be the one running back to you, that sick glint in your eye only making him swoon harder.

you had a few bad habits, sure. a few dark fantasies. but so did taehyung. and now he had your blood in him – your essence, the purest part of you – which could never be taken away, even if the elders found out about your relationship. they could take you, but not the part of you that you'd planted deep inside him. they'd never be able to dig it all out. you were a rot to their perfectly-tended garden, and taehyung wouldn't let you be cut out so easily – not when you were so sweet on the tongue.

he licks his lips, the faint taste of what remains fluttering his heart. he'd been careless with his moans, the cries of your name like a prayer. he found so many little deaths with you, and the best ones came screaming.

suddenly, emptiness – you pull away, hand slipping out of his. you halt, stiller than the dead.

hoarsely, taehyung whispers your name, a whine on the tip of his tongue. "n-no... so close, was so close, please..." he turns around.

his heart drops like a stone.

"hello," says jimin, in a voice like silk.

"baby, put the knife down," taehyung stammers, all pleasure doused by the sight of that too-big blade pressed up against your throat. "don't."

"why should i?" he adjusts it, nicking a fine pink line beneath your ear. red beads along it like a string of pearls. "he's a killer. he must be cleansed, same as the rest."

unconsciously, taehyung wipes his mouth, as if your influence on him could be removed so easily. he can still feel the heat of it pulsing against his lips. "but he's mine."

you roll your eyes, hands open and half-raised. of all the things he could've said...

yet, it seems to give him pause. the kitchen knife almost loosens – almost. he tugs your hair roughly, punishingly, and you grunt as the blade whispers against your skin. you have half a mind to teach him a bloody hard lesson, but taehyung might not like that.

"wait!" taehyung darts forward, hand outstretched. he slumps on the bed in front of jimin, gripping the sheets. "how – how did you find us?"

"i followed your ex," jimin replies, observing the wet blood painting half of your chest. the red against your skin is rather pretty... and it's in the shape of taehyung's teeth. "this mark is good at covering his tracks. not so much for those of others."

taehyung's eyes widen. no. you promised to stay away from his ex! then again, he never did see the face of the meat he was cutting up... and you weren't one to be one-upped by the likes of jimin.

"he's not a mark," he pleads, "not officially. he could join us! how many people has he already killed? how long did it take for you to realise? you only found him because he was too rash with this one."

jimin's eyes narrow. "all that tells me is that he grew cocky and let his guard down."

"the mark was cruel to me. he did it for me," taehyung implores, his eyes earnest. "he loves me. and i love him. put down the knife. initiate him."

you frown. initiate?

for a long time, jimin says nothing. he doesn't move.

he lifts the knife. taehyung's eyes widen.

he raises his hands in surrender. he huffs and crosses his arms, drumming his fingers against his arm as he cocks a hip. his skirt and knitted vest give him the impression of a private-school kid, although the short sleeves of the dress shirt seem a touch too tight to be unaltered. he wears a shiny pair of tall, heeled mary janes, but you hadn't heard him until the knife was at your throat. odd.

"fine," he drawls, eyeing you with a slight curl to his upper lip. "you have two minutes to convince me. you're so lucky i like you, tae. wh—i mean, why do you even care? you said he wasn't your type."

"well," he searches carefully for the right words, "things change. and he fucks me the way i like it. you can't tell that from a glance."

jimin's gaze strays briefly downwards, over the shine of blood and flexing muscle. you're still hard, and when his gaze flicks up to meet yours, your lips twitch up into a smirk. you adjust your undone jeans and cross your arms.

eventually, jimin steps closer, reaching out curiously to prod at the bite mark. ruby red oozes, and he watches closely as your eyes flutter briefly shut. his tongue glides over his glossy lower lip. "hm... but he's still a killer. i don't know what makes him more useful to me alive."

it's as if a lightbulb flashes over taehyung's head.

he leans forward, resting a hand on your thigh. he tilts his head against your hip. "maybe you can... try him. see from my perspective."

"i'm not getting on my knees," jimin scowls immediately, "not for a sinner."

"but you don't mind it when i do?"

jimin opens his mouth. he closes it. he throws his hands in the air, knife waving around carelessly. "we're not the same! i'm already doing you a kindness by letting him live this long. i should be flaying him right now for tainting your body with his filth. you're supposed to be pure. unsullied."

"pure?" you repeat, scoffing. you can only stay quiet for so long. "oh, you lot are crazy-crazy. worse than me."

his eyes narrow and his knuckles whiten on the knife handle. taehyung shoves himself between you, gripping your hand in his own. "no! stop it, both of you! if you kill each other, who's gonna take care of me? i'm still hard."

he's the perfect height for you. you prop your chin on his shoulder with a lazy grin, wrapping your arms loosely around his waist. you play with his cock, making his breath stutter. "you're right as always, sweetheart... how cruel is he for cockblocking you? you deserve everything in the world and more..."

jimin's fingers twitch. taehyung bucks shallowly against you, but you keep him firmly in place as you stroke his cock, already sensitive. you kiss his neck. you haven't taken your eyes off of jimin.

he presses his thighs together as taehyung lets out a soft whimper.

"come on, sweet thing," you croon into his ear, cupping his chest and grazing his nipple. "don't you want my cock?"

gulping, he tries not to show how affected he is by the hardness pressing against his ass. "a-ah, um..."

"what was that?" you flick your wrist roughly and taehyung's eyes shoot open. blood fills his mouth from a bitten cut in his cheek.

nervously, he lifts his eyes to jimin's. his gaze is fixed on your hand and the way it engulfs taehyung's cock, flicking over his slit and grazing the veins with your nails. "i want – i w-want..."

"say it, tae."

the words come not from your lips, but jimin's. two fingers slip into taehyung's ass and he jolts with a sweet moan as you curl them.

"i want your cock," he rushes out in one breath. "fuck, i want it so bad."

"even more than your boyfriend's?" your words are sly, coated in a thick layer of faux innocence. "why?"

taehyung doesn't bother answering. you know the answer – so does jimin. he turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands, bringing you down for a desperate, hungry kiss. you thrust your fingers into his hole and he jerks, clamping down around you. you swallow his moans, pumping your fingers teasingly.

"i wonder," you drawl, kissing a trail up taehyung's neck, "if he likes watching. maybe that's why he doesn't want to date you. he wants to sit back and watch as other men ruin your pretty little body – after all, it's hard to enjoy the faces you make when preoccupied with doing all the real work."

the sharp intake of breath and the way he clenches around you tells you what you want to hear. he looks up at you with those dark, dark eyes, his breath quick and shallow, and leans into it when you sit him down on the bed with a creak. swiftly, he turns over, arching his back and wiggling his ass. he gazes back at you with huge eyes as you remove your pants. he's almost shy – though the twitching cock leaking down his thigh is anything but. red and angry, it demands attention.

you glance at jimin. the knife's still in his hand, but the thought of it seems secondary to the sight of taehyung on his hands and knees. you can hardly blame him.

from the edge of the bed, you grab the bottle of lube taehyung had brought with him. you slather a generous amount onto your cock and push a few fingers into taehyung with the remnants, exhaling softly as he pushes his hips back against your knuckles.

"my perfect boy." you scissor your fingers, then slide them out. "c'mon – don't be shy. show your dear jimin how well i stretch you out."

he glances your way sharply. you're already staring at him, grinning in the airheaded, cocky, handsome way that all popular boys seem to know intrinsically. the soft lips, the blood, the way you manoeuvre taehyung's body around yours as if he's a prop to make you look better... every jock knows that rising in the ranks means he needs to talk louder than the next guy, take up more space than the next guy, have prettier girls on his arms than the next guy. they say confidence is key, but that's only good at pool parties where nobody wants to really call anyone's bluff.

you're the only one who does it right. you're the only one with a cock to match that body.

taehyung exhales shakily as he reaches back and parts his asscheeks, fingers digging harder than necessary into the plump meat. he hides his burning face in the sheets as jimin steps closer, and his breath quickens as you tap your cock against his ass, teasing his hole with your tip.

"cute, isn't he? surprisingly sweet, too. thought he'd be more of a brat when i first saw him," you hum, casually stuffing your cock into him in one smooth movement. taehyung yelps and lets out a quivery little moan, his slick walls clenching around your thick cock. he sounds like he's trying not to cry – you sigh patiently and pet his hair before your hands return to their rightful places on his hips to pull him onto you.

his body jolts with each thrust, his muffled cries breathy and whiny. his ass ripples with the slap of your hips. on a particularly rough thrust which has him seeing stars, he whimpers out a "daddy" that has jimin's breath hitching audibly.

"good, baby," you husk, palms gliding down his body appreciatively. you slap his ass – so hard your palm stings – and he chokes, already-wobbly knees giving out beneath him. he catches himself just in time but the angle has your cock driving deeper inside him, oscillating wildly from kissing his prostate to fucking his brain out his ears.

you grab a fistful of his hair and loom over him, your lips brushing his earlobe. his spine arches when you tug roughly, his eyes rolling to show their whites as your cock throbs inside him, each thrust wet and slick. "tell him how you feel, whore," you murmur, soft but loud enough for your voice to carry. he gasps sharply at the title and his aching cock leaks like a faucet into a puddle of his own precome. he shakes his head, embarrassment hot in his core.

you tilt your head. "maybe i'll even let you suck him off."

"it f-feels good," he cries immediately. the quick, precise slapping of skin on skin echoes in the room. "i love your cock! i love tay-taking cock, love being fucked by big cocks – oh god! – 'n' yours is the biggest! love getting stretched wide on your dick, getting fucked 'til it hurts—! i-i never wanna come off, mm, i love being your cockslut – wanna be your bitch, your toy, all yours—" you bury yourself balls-deep in his guts and his mouth falls open, thick white come spurting from his tip; it's almost humiliating how you can make him finish without a single brush against his dick. he smiles, broad and wobbly. "ohhh..."

you peck his cheek, pressing against his back low and heavy like an animal. you grip his jaw. "coming already? don't go passing out on me," you chide, tilting his head in jimin's direction. "look at him. look. there we go. see how hard he is? he must like how obedient you get with me – with your daddy."

heat floods his body to the marrow. you've never used that title on yourself before – it's always been taehyung's thing, something you don't mind only because it's him. the raking burn of pleasure hurts, blooming from his cock all the way up his spine and out to his fingers and toes.

possession. it spins in taehyung's jumbled mind. you fuck him like you want to bruise your name inside him, forcing him to think of you and only you even when jimin sits on that chair in front of him, a perfectly manicured hand wrapped around his leaking length, just begging to be touched.

briefly, taehyung wonders how you might fuck jimin. he's giving you his infamous bedroom eyes, but there's an acrid darkness that taints his gaze. jealousy? inadequacy? scorn? taehyung's thighs are hot and sticky.

maybe you'd be rougher with him, tie him up and fold him in half with his legs over your shoulders. even as he distantly obeys your whispered order to open his mouth, and even as jimin slides his velvety cock between his lips, he can't stop imagining you behind jimin, manhandling him and forcing him to ride you to get off, even though jimin's such a pillow princess.

you grip taehyung's hips, sweat shining on your skin. you spread his ass and thrust deeper, smirking when he jerks forward, choking down the rest of jimin's dick and ripping a pleasured curse from his throat.

taehyung's limbs feel like jelly. he braces against jimin's hip, hooking his thumb under the hem of jimin's skirt to pin it back. as he sinks down on his cock, he chances a glance up.

rid of his little sweater vest and unbuttoned down to the navel, jimin does very little to chase his high. he meets taehyung's eyes and tilts his head slightly – he's almost perfectly still, and the only thing he does is gather his skirt in a fist. your quick, snapping pace sets taehyung's, and it's only by the blown pupils and pink-tinged cheeks that taehyung knows he's doing well.

"so," you begin, and your voice is remarkably steady. "did you come here intending to kill me?"

"please, i barely know who you are. there are others—" his breath catches, and he closes his eyes to steady himself "—others who're more deserving of atonement than you. which isn't to say i thought you a paragon of virtue – you're a handsome guy on a sports team, and sin comes to your type like moths to a flame. i knew i'd come to collect eventually, but you surprised me. congrats – not many can."

"did you watch?" you ask, patting taehyung's ass almost fondly. "he did so well with the – what did you call him? your mark? did you see how beautiful he looked, nearly orgasmic as he cut him open and warmed his hands with his blood? you must enjoy it, too – seeing the life fade from your victims' eyes. otherwise, you would've culled me the moment i took your kill."

his eyes narrow. "you're sick."

you laugh. "y'know, you and your little 'cult' aren't slick. i saw how pretty girls and guys don't shy away from the forest or the nasty parts of town because what they can do far outweighs the shard of glass a cokehead waves around. i thought it was a creative writing exercise gone crazy, something to explain the unusual disappearances around here. it was good for me, though. nobody'll raise a fuss if one more douchebag goes missing."

"i should kill you now."

"but then sweet little taehyung would be upset – you heard him." you pout. "besides, you must've liked something about me or you would've gotten rid of me as soon as i ravaged your favourite boytoy. do you have a thing for corruption? is that why you stayed, watched him come as soon as he tasted my blood? if you like, i'll let him bite the other side."

he pulls taehyung's throat down on his cock by his hair. taehyung eagerly laps up every throbbing inch he receives, nails digging into jimin's ass. he jolts and gags slightly as hot come pours down his throat without warning – his eyes flutter shut as his throat bobs, lips pressed against jimin's base.

"oh, i like you," you purr, something of a song lilting your voice. "are you as angry when you take cock, i wonder?"

"try it, i dare you."

you turn your attention to taehyung, who sits jimin's cock in his mouth like a good boy. he suckles softly, dazed and faraway. his walls are soft and hot, each gummy ridge stroking and clamping around you to pull you in as deep as possible when you finally, finally come, forcing him over the precipice as well for the nth time that night.

you pet his hair and he leans into it, moaning as you gently pull out, letting him sink into the mattress. thick come drips down his inner thigh, pooling in the dips of the bed. softly, you groan, gathering yourself and lavishing kisses upon kisses over his neck and shoulder. "what do you think, baby? should i fuck the cultist freak?"

taehyung pops off wetly, licking his lips. his chest heaves. it's hard to scoop his brain up off the floor, but the thought of the two people hottest people he knows putting on a show, all for him? "p-please..."

you raise your eyes, and meet jimin's glare with a smirk. "you heard him. don't wanna disappoint, do we?"

"you think you deserve to fuck me? after everything you've done? you don't even kill for a reason," he scoffs. "you're no better than an animal."

"what is it with you and prettyboy here thinking i'm less than human? you cower behind your righteous moral justifications when you take a life and hold me to the same standards, but animals don't have morals. i can only be one, baby, so choose."

jimin glowers.

"you've got me in a box," he admits eventually, and his expression twists as your smile turns gloating. "shut up. you can fuck me – just this once."

"those are dangerous gambling words," you tease, but lay back against the headboard, one hand behind your head and the other wrapping around the base of your cock. your absence above him makes taehyung blink – hard – before he shuffles after you like a sleepy puppy and buries his face in your shoulder.

his thighs still twitch every now and again, and he lifts his unfocussed gaze to meet jimin's. it clears, just enough, for a fat, satisfied grin to spread across his face and he shifts to spread his shaky legs, showing off the warm glazed mess between his thighs like a piece of art.

jimin's cock throbs. taehyung grins lazily, knowingly, eyes half-lidded and hungry. he slides your slick cock between the vee of his fingers and flicks his wrist. a pearl of precome beads along your slit and follows the line of a vein, gathering eventually along taehyung's slender finger.

unwise, a voice whispers in his head, regal and maternal, yet youthful.

with a sigh too breathy to be accidental, taehyung splays his fingers over his lips and tilts his head back, taking one finger at a time against his scarlet tongue to clean it. his lashes graze his cheeks. his eyes are black corridors of velvet, and he gives jimin's invisible leash a tug with a curl of his pretty fingers.

it was never that taehyung made it too hard to say no. he made it far too easy to say yes.

[lovebugism]

What about Eddie with shy!reader who still gets shy & flustered when he compliments/praises her even after being together for months now 🥺

hi love! this is such a sweet lil scenario! thanks sm for your request!! — the one where eddie is super good at making you feel pretty (but only because you make it so easy)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“Does this look okay?” you ask for the hundredth time. Maybe millionth.

Eddie doesn’t shrug you off, though. He never does — not even when you’ve repeated the same question to him a thousand times.

The boy eyes your outfit like he’s really analyzing it, just like you wanted him to. In its fourth iteration, it looks only slightly different than the one before it, but he’ll take any opportunity to look at you that comes his way.

Most of the time, you can’t stand it when he stares at you for too long. Now he can do it all he wants because you’re asking him to. He feels a little like the luckiest guy on the planet.

“The skirt’s really pretty,” Eddie affirms with a nod. He’d argue that you’ve looked pretty in everything you’ve shown him, but he knows that’s not the answer you’re looking for. “I think I like it better than the jeans, actually.”

Even though you could wear almost anything and drive him insane, nothing beats seeing you in skirts. Something about your legs has always worked him wild — maybe because you keep them covered so often. 

It isn’t every day he gets to see you in these shorter bottoms. Those are only reserved for real special occasions. And, for some strange reason, you’ve decided that’s what Steve’s party is.

You look over your shoulder at the boy sprawled out on the edge of your bed. His wild hair and all black get-up looks much more jarring than usual against your baby pink comforter.

He’s dreadfully out of place in your girlish bedroom. You never want him to leave.

“You think so?” you wonder aloud, toying nervously with the hem of your white skater skirt. It’s not super short, stopping just below mid-thigh, but you’re nervous that it might be anyway.

Eddie scoffs like the answer’s obvious. “Totally. You look killer, babe. I’m gonna have to walk behind you all night to keep everyone from staring at you.”

Your nose scrunches at the crude compliment. Sometimes you wonder if Eddie thinks you’re prettier than you really are — like one of those funky carnival mirrors, but with the opposite effect. 

He’s under some sort of spell, you figure. He must be. 

You don’t deserve to be loved on as much as he loves on you.

“I’m being serious, Eds,” you argue halfheartedly as you turn back to the mirror. You tug at the bottom of your snug crop top when a sliver of your stomach starts to show.

The bed squeaks under his weight when he rises from his lounged position. He laughs and it sounds like sunshine. “I am being serious. You look amazing.”

“You always think I look amazing,” you murmur, flashing him a weak glare from beneath your lashes through the mirror. You’re not as annoyed as you seem. Embarrassed and a little undeserving, sure — but not annoyed.

“How’s that my fault?” Eddie scoffs with a chuckle. His chunky sneakers thud, thud, thud against your carpeted floor as he walks over to you. “If you didn’t look so pretty all the time, I wouldn’t have to compliment you, so… Checkmate.”

“Stop it…” you protest, mousy and only half-joking.

Eddie’s almost certain that none of his words ever get through to you. Every time he tells you something nice, you think he’s joking. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never been serious about anything in his life — other than you, of course — or if you don’t think you’re worthy of praise.

Maybe it’s a healthy mixture of both. 

It breaks his heart all the same.

Your back meets his chest when he stands behind you. His deep, musky cologne engulfs you like a fuzzy blanket. His ringed fingers are warm as they splay along your hips.

Even when he’s barely touching you, he makes you feel so held. 

“I mean it,” Eddie assures. His voice is soft, quiet, and serious — a stern sort of coo. His button-eyed gaze pierces your own as he stares at you in the mirror. He squeezes softly at your sides. “You look really pretty, babe. I think you should go with this one.”

Grateful that the attention is less on you and more on your outfit, you get less sheepish. “You don’t think it’s too much for a party?”

“No,” he answers with a curt shake of his wild head. “’S perfect. Honestly.”

You huff and lean back against him — not relaxed, exactly, just wanting to feel more of him. Eddie’s chin rests on your shoulder as your arms cross over your stomach. You look almost like you’re hugging yourself.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” you wonder, so quietly it sounds like a bunch of mumbles.

Eddie’s practically developed super-hearing after being with you for so long. 

He scoffs in response. “They’re gonna love you,” he promises, brows raised beneath his frizzy bangs. A pink smile tugs at his mouth. “Like, seriously. They’re gonna be obsessed with you. Henderson, especially. Him and Robin are gonna talk your ear off the whole night.”

You’re smiling before you realize it.

You love that he can imagine you so perfectly meshing with all the people he cares about. Your heart swells at the thought. You love fitting into his world.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods with a scrunched nose. “And then I’m gonna have to share you with them and… You know what? Maybe this is a terrible idea.”

You exhale sharply through your nose in place of a laugh. You purse your lips to the side when you feel like you’re smiling too big. It takes over your whole mouth anyway.

Eddie watches your gaze duck towards the floor where his dirty sneakers stand alongside your shiny Mary Janes. He smiles at you like he’s just heard his favorite song on the radio — like he’s watching happiness incarnate and holding her in his hands.

“There it is,” he singsongs quietly. “I’ve been waiting to see you smile all night.”

Your face heats like a stove eye. You think you might actually burn him if he touched your cheeks just now.

“Stop,” you whine as if he’s hurt you in some way. You writhe in his arms to escape his grip, but he only holds you tighter.

“Sorry, babe,” Eddie apologizes, mostly insincere. He tucks his face into your shoulder and mumbles his words there. “You can’t escape me.”

He sprinkles tiny kisses on your neck. You raise your shoulders, not because you want him to stop, but because the softness of his touch tickles you there. You’d rather feel his lips against your own, anyway.

“You’re such a sap,” you tease as your head turns to peer up at him. The words leave your mouth so softly you might as well be telling him ‘I love you.’ In some ways, you are.

“I mean it, though,” he confesses. He seals his promise with a barely-there peck to the tip of your nose. His lips just barely brush your skin before he’s pulling away again. “You look pretty. Beautiful, even.”

You trap your smile between your teeth as you twist in his hold. Your arms stay pressed between your bodies while his arms embrace you wholly. “Beautiful, huh?” you echo with a sarcastic lilt.

“Uh-huh. Beautiful with a capital B.”

Despite how desperately you want to look away from his intent gaze — so full of love that they’re twinkling with it — you force yourself to keep his stare. “Well, I think you’re Beautiful with a capital B, too, Eds…”

Eddie beams at you, taking your compliment in stride. You wish you could do that, too.

“Thank you, baby,” he hums before smacking a kiss to your waiting mouth. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint and strawberry chapstick.

It’s over far quicker than you’d like it to be. He doesn’t seem as grieved by it as you do.

“Alright, babe. Let’s go,” he announces with a boyish grin when he parts from you. You smile as he heads out of your bedroom, picking up the purse on your desk as he goes. He knew you’d forget it otherwise. 

His voice comes muffled from the hallway, “Your chariot awaits!” 

[love-that-we-were-in]

indelible scars, pivotal marks

pairing: luke castellan x implied apollo!reader

summary: you might be the only person who actually knows luke castellan. you don't think anyone else is willing to try.

a/n: what if i told you i got yelled at a lot after writing this. enjoy! oh this is also my first x reader in the 5 years i've been writing who cheered. have fun !

Luke is fourteen the first time he can remember sleeping through the night. He’s barely been at Camp Half-Blood for three hours, skin still splotched purple and blue, Thalia’s yells echoing in his skull. There’s no silence, a steady hum of nature that’s leveled by the voices of people he doesn’t know, and he knows he shouldn’t sleep. They’ve lost Thalia, left her just beyond the borders of an unknown place, and it’s a risk to welcome the flimsy pillow they gave him. He does it anyway, eyes closing to the sound of Annabeth’s soft breaths. 

The respite lasts one night.

By morning, he’s recounted the last five years more than he ever wanted to. Annabeth clings to him then, a known comfort. She knows the broad strokes of the story, could recount them herself, but there’s gaps from before her time, and there’s things Thalia made him swear not to tell. If she notices, she doesn’t comment, just keeps her fingers close to her side. He knows that’s where she keeps her dagger - he wonders if Chiron can tell as well.

Chiron brings them to Thalia, explains what happened and how lucky it is. Luke looks at the tree, the first time Thalia has stood taller than him since they met - something she always swore she would do one day - and leans back against it as Annabeth sobs into his shoulder. 

Mr D sends Annabeth to the Athena cabin before lunch. Luke doesn’t need to be told to make his way to Cabin 11. He knows who his father is. His backpack is left at the base of a bed in the far corner of the room, a group of boys gathered around the area turning to watch him the second he walks in. They move away but they don’t stop their stares.

Sleep doesn’t come as easily to him that night.

*

You meet Luke Castellan when you’re fifteen, standing on the edge of the lake as a golden sun rises in the horizon. It’s your first morning at camp, your first morning admiring the sunrise in months, and you think you could find a home here. Within the hour, you’re sure the calm won’t be the same – too many kids in the same space, swords and satyrs and strawberries guiding the day along – but for now there’s sunlight. 

“Breakfast isn’t for two more hours,” someone says from behind you. It should be scarier than it is, put you on high alert with the way he creeps into the space without a sound. “Just in case someone forgot to mention that.”

He’s pretty. Strong chin, dark eyes. On most people you’ve met, that’s where pretty ends. Not him. There’s this way he stands in your periphery; comfortable in his worn camp t-shirt, like he was made to live in it, to have it define him for an eternity. Very few people are pretty in a way that speaks of forever.

“I like to watch the sunrise.” 

He hums. “I’m Luke.”

He waits, steps away, until you offer him a seat beside you on the grass. It was something you were told once, an eclectic art teacher draped in shawls and chunky jewelry, how the sun is only as beautiful as it is when shared with another. As Luke sits next to you, you enjoy the quiet you’re positive isn’t built to last.

*

Luke becomes a counselor that summer. Everyone saw it coming, the way he’s known to everyone and not just the Hermes kids. Whispers of a legacy, of a potential legend in the making, followed him already, two years at camp creating grand ideas for his future – counselor status just helps to further them. It’s not that big of a deal normally. It’s potentially defining when you’re the best swordsman in almost three hundred years.

You find him on his way back from the Big House that evening, heading in no particular direction but with a clear idea of where he doesn’t want to be. It’s something you’ve learnt to read in the last few weeks, the way Luke fluctuates. How he dips in and out of personas as if it’s possible to switch them out. It comes with renown, you suppose. 

“Counselor Castellan, is it?” 

He smiles something bitter. “So they tell me.”

Without hesitation, you take hold of his hand. It’s warmer than yours and you feel the difference in your bloodstream. Luke doesn’t look at you, doesn’t comment, and you lead him away from the cabins and down to the lake. 

There’s maybe an hour until sunset. You’re almost attuned to it now, mornings spent watching it with rapt attention. Luke normally joins you, sword dropped between you. Some mornings, the thud of metal onto stone is the only reason you know he’s arrived, still so silent in his arrival that you wonder if it’s on purpose. 

“Does it make you anxious?” You ask when the silence stretches on for too long, when Luke stares unblinkingly at the horizon for longer than he should. He blinks, irises shifting from a glassy bronze and back to muted brown as the film clears. “Did they even ask if it was something you wanted?” 

He scoffs and you wonder if this is where everything changes. Luke always has things he wants to say, balancing on the tip of his tongue until he figures out how to swallow them down and burn them. It’s like you can see it play out in real time, his jaw shifting, arm tensing.

“Mr D told me it was a great honor. Chiron told me it was long overdue.” 

“You weren’t given a chance to say no.”

It’s a pattern you’ve noticed, not just within camp but with all the Gods. Clarisse was sent a spear with no note, but everyone knew who had sent it. Annabeth’s hat was exactly the same. Gifts. All gifts. No receipts or return addresses provided. Life at camp was something to be grateful for, always, considering the alternative most of you had already been forced to live. To comment on it would make you an enemy of those too powerful to consider.

Looking at the tense set of Luke’s shoulders, you kind of want to say it anyway.

“I’m about to have all the glory Camp Half-Blood could offer me,” Luke says and the sun begins to dip below the surface of the lake. His palm is warm in yours again. “Why would I complain?”

*

There’s a flurry of new arrivals no one anticipated the next summer They come in pairs, mostly, with the odd trio. Always one unclaimed within the group. Always one who gets marched to Cabin 11 in the middle of the night, sometimes after hours of questioning.

You know the nights that it’s happened, taking in the way Luke’s movements are less sharp, the way he breathes more shallowly. A conservation of energy. It doesn’t affect you much until it does, the sharp sting of Luke’s sword on your arm as he loses his footing, turns too suddenly at the sound of your footsteps. 

“This is insane,” you say as you press your shirt into the cut. It’s not bad, something that will heal quickly and fade into nothingness, but Luke locks his gaze on the red dotting your skin as if he doesn’t understand how it got there. “They can’t keep waking you up in the middle of the night for this.”

“The only other place they can go is the med bay and none of them have been beaten up badly enough to be worth waking an Apollo kid.”

“I’ve seen some of the kids when they’ve gotten here, Luke,” you mutter, shirt hem dropping as the wound stops bleeding. You glance up at him. “They could do with being patched up.” 

He sinks down to the floor. You stay on your feet. “This is what I signed up for when I took the position.”

There’s this way Luke’s voice gets sometimes, sharp and low and just a little spiteful. A build-up of years with little mercy granted. That’s how it is now, speaking through clenched teeth, completely biting back the vitriol and pretending there’s no heat to his words. 

He’s always been pretty in the sunrise, from the day you met, but you think he might be prettiest right now – lying to himself more than he can lie to you in the moments before there’s any sunlight at all. When you would let darkness spill into itself, Luke forces light to filter in. If you caught him at the darkest hour, you wonder if that would remain.

Taking in the way he digs his nail into the fabric of his pants, you doubt even he would know how to stop himself then. 

*

You aren’t chosen for Luke’s quest. He finds you after the ceremony, face pulled taut and bag thrown over his shoulder already. There’s no regret in his eyes, no determination either. You stand straighter when you hear him approach, grateful that he cared enough not to take you by surprise for once. 

“Don’t be mad at me.” 

“Why would I be mad?” You say. It’s disingenuous to your own ears, the way it pitches, so you fold your arms across your chest. “Chris and Ethan will be great questmates. A band of brothers.”

Luke swallows. “Is that really what you think this is? That I wanted to make my quest a guys trip?”

“I don’t think anything of it, Luke.” 

In the middle of the day, you can see him clearest. See the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood the way everyone else does. In broad daylight, there’s few things more noticeable on Luke Castellan. The slope of his nose, the straightness of his back, the comfortable weight of his sword on his hip – almost a tether to who he proclaims himself to be. It’s your least favorite version of him.

“I would’ve chosen you. In a heartbeat, I would’ve chosen you,” he says, brown eyes shifting from dim to desperate in moments. A plea to be heard. You know you’re the only one to ever truly listen when he speaks.

“Doesn’t really seem that way.”

“I just needed a reason to come back when it’s over.”

It stills the air around you. The words tangle themselves together in your brain, drown out the archers in the distance, the birds overhead. They echo and twist and they maintain their tone, the low pitch Luke uses when he’s decided to say something he doesn’t want to be heard. They bury themselves in the corner with the other times he’s used it, forever ingrained, and you don’t know what to make of them. How to define them at all.

He waits, gaze firm, until you nod slightly. You keep your chin low, determined to give little satisfaction to the situation. To Hermes giving Luke a reused quest, to the possibility of losing him because you aren’t there. It curdles deep in your gut, refusing to remain unknown.

There’s a moment where Luke hesitates, his hand twitching slightly, arm moving minutely higher from where it hangs down by his waist. Instead, his fist clenches and he exhales long and low. 

“Promise to be here when I get back?” 

“I’ll be really annoyed if you’re not the one knocking on my cabin door.”

He turns back to face you after he joins Chris and Ethan at the border. They’re all capable, with a history of working together. They’ll succeed, return to praise and glory and everything they deserve to have. The sun beats down on Luke as he nods goodbye and you wonder if it shines on anyone else at all.

*

The scar becomes a part of him. 

It fades into his skin with time, going from raised and rotten to a streak of pale across his cheek. You overhear some of the Ares kids praising it as symbolic of his win, a prize of sorts, and some of the Aphrodite kids saying it makes him more appealing, makes him look stronger. You’re not sure what you think of it, tracing it with gentle fingers as it heals. 

It becomes a habit, running a knuckle down Luke’s cheek each morning. Feeling where the skin tied itself back together. He never comments. You want to ask if he minds, that you’ll stop if it’s too much. The first few times you did it, in the days right after his return, he had flinched, features pinching together. Your hand had dropped, all too aware of the matted skin, how it probably still ached but Luke had taken your hand and placed it back where it had been. 

His scar becomes a statement, a badge of skill that everyone at camp can recognise. There had been little debate on the truth of his swordsmanship before but now it hardly existed, undeniable proof the first thing people noticed when introduced to him. 

Most people don’t bother to ask Luke about it. Percy Jackson isn’t most people.

“You got attacked by a dragon?” 

It’s the first time in years that anyone has joined you and Luke at the lake this early. Annabeth used to, on the rare occasions the worst of her nightmares returned. It’s different with Percy, like being close to the water rewires him completely. It makes sense days later when you watch him push open the door to the empty Cabin 3.

“Last year,” Luke hums, one hand resting softly in yours and the other keeping a loose grip on the sword handle in his lap. Percy had wanted to see him in action after hearing the stories, so you’d both obliged. “I made a wrong call and I paid for it.”

“At least it looks pretty cool.” 

The way Percy says it is different to everyone else. It’s not ingrained with this odd lust, whether for adventure or the story or Luke himself. It’s more muted, a fact of life. He’s not saying it to make anyone feel better – he’s saying it to disregard. A scar is just a scar to Percy Jackson, as if he’s known too many to care.

“I guess it kind of is,” Luke says and the three of you listen to the morning begin.

[cindol]

BILLS BILLS BILLS !💸

tw— reader a pretty princess, reader is 26 and ino is 22, ino is rich somehow just by being nanami’s assistant don’t ask me!!,

synopsis— ino is the perfect boy for a girl like y/n.

congrats on 600 naj! @honeybleed . 90’s collab event

y/n’s worst trait was how forgiving she could be, even to the most heinous acts to her, her boyfriend now ex boyfriend took great advantage of that. It was sweet at first, him taking her to restaurants no matter how cheap they were but then it turned bitter sweet. Turning from him asking her for extra cash and even getting the audacity to even steal her credit card and use her car on his own whim. Once the breakup soon happened she had to ask the question, ‘where are all good men?’ This question even was on her mind as she was at the newest popular club with her girls.

When ranting to shoko and utahime on the Group FaceTime they took her to the new Blue Eagel club saying how there was a lot of eye candy at this joint. Y/n sipped the glass of pink Whitney she had as shoko and utahime had their usual Hennessy. Shoko smiled seeing the corners of y/n’s lips turned off.”whole lotta’ eye candy right? Get you outta that bummed out mood?” Y/n couldn’t help but make a chuckle come out her throat.”Mm… whole lot of male eye candy..”looking around the club she could see some now. a small group of tall of six men, there was about one that stuck out to her. She could’ve sworn she could see him staring at her from her small table. She was broken out her stare from how shoko and utahime made tipsy ‘ooo’ sound effects.

She rolled her eyes smiling at the two.”looks like our babe found her some skinny eye candy?” Utahime teased and it made y/n even scoff with a chuckle hidden in.”oh please.. I just got out a sticky ass breakup, what would I look like lusting over another scrawny man?” Shoko and utahime just raised their eyebrows up and down with a cat like smile.”ain’t that your type?” Shoko said in a teasing tone making y/n have a barely visible blush on her cheek.”Oh hush.. go on somewhere if y’all are just gonna tease me.” That was the invite for the two tipsy girls to make their way off to the dance floor.

Just as they left the man came closer to her table and she got a good look of him. He wasn’t very dolled up like the guys he came with. He was sporting just a normal black dress shirt, some grey slacks but had some generic lazy brown hair. He now stood right in front of her with a cheeky smile.”hey, don’t know how my buddies even do this kinda thing but.. saw ya staring at me across the room.” As soon as he said those words he wanted to cringe and turn pink when you rolled your eyes smiling.”room? We’re in a club. Don’t you mean across the dance floor?”

He played it off chuckling and scratching the back of his head.”I’m bad at catch lines what can I say? Can’t knock down a guy for trying.” Y/n liked his wit, she could tell he was obviously just a nervous boy but still very smooth with his comebacks. She took a sip of her pink Whitney.”mhm.. take a seat yes?” He listened to her taking a seat from across her at the small round table. Now that he was taking a close at her she was a gorgeous girl, with a beautiful dark straight haired brunette lace sat on her head perfectly when he looked at her face she had some light makeup on but her lips popped out with them lined and glossed up and even her outfit was pretty, with her wearing a light pink halter top and a pink mini skirt and chunky light pink chunky platform heels that matched her brown skin perfect. Everything about this girl was pretty to him

She noticed how he was zoning out just staring at her and snapped her fingers.”aye, eyes up here sir!” That made him blink and chuckle.”sorry bout that, can’t help but stare at a beautiful girl y’know?” That made her a bit bashful as she smiled at his cheesy lines. He could tell he was winning her over slowly.”instead of this awkward tension let me know something about the girl who was staring me down just from the dance floor.” She made a light chuckle tapping her fingers on the tables surface.”well, I just got out of weird breakup last night and now I’m here. That’s a small fact.” Ino could control the small damn he let out at that.”Ah shit, sorry that’s just a big bombshell.” She giggled at his reaction.”No no, my ex boyfriend was a bit of dick anyways.. He was always borrowing my car, money and nearly maxing my card out.”

That made ino’s brows raise.”what a way to treat a girl you love huh?” She hummed in response.”what can ya do though? Not much good boys in this town really..” Ino made a huff sound at that, the next thing he said he couldn’t even control out his mouth.”I would never do that to you.” It made y/n giggle to have a boy she barely even knew say this just 9 minutes into the conversation.”you barely know me boy, and yet you think you know what’s best for me hm?” She jokes a little which takes ino aback, everything she said made him fluster and think about the stupid words he said. He attempted to play off his words, still showing his boyish charm and overall confidence despite his blushing.”well I don’t know you well enough since I just met you well about some minutes ago but with how you stared at me across that floor and your body language maybe we can figure something out y’know?”

Before she could make another witty comment he continued.”You may look like you have more experience and a more rich taste but trust me, I could be that man for you. I could do the bill paying, the nice spa treatment and resorts. Just give me one chance.” That made y/n’s legs clench a bit, she still had some excuse up her sleeve.”you don’t even know my name.”

“Takuma ino, what’s yours?” He said it so quickly like he wasn’t taking no for a answer or any excuse. Y/n gave in seeing how determined this boy was.”l/n y/n.”

🎀 ᘏᘏ 🎀

In the 6 months y/n had gotten to know ino he kept his promise and word about treating her right. He definitely paid her bills and treated her to the best restaurants and clubs. It amazed her how he could just have this much money from being a assistant apparently. Throughout these months she started to date ino he showed a lot of chivalry for his age, there were some instances where his romance showed out.

He was very serious about paying her bills and expenses like she thought. Truthfully she thought it would just be some fun little three months she would be dating him till she was 4 months in and saw the effect. Even knowing how financially stable ino was she still hesitated asking him to pay for things, it was just her mentality when growing up poor. Ino had this mentality himself when he was younger, that’s how he picked her up on her habbit of always turning lights off and yelling at him across the room to make sure to turn the bathroom light off once he’s done in her bathroom, she even did this in his house without noticing.

When she was scolding him once again about turning the shower water and lights off more often he just hushed her with a finger on her lips.”babe babe, I can take care of all that dumb bill shit.” It stunned her a bit how he hushed her and he chuckled noticing.”I’m your rich new boyfriend did you forget?”

Another instance was him amazing her when taking her to a fresh new restaurant. It was foreign to her a little, as she looked at the fancy menu and the other customers around she felt a bit out of place even in the mini pink dress she had on. Ino could feel how uncomfortable she was, he had gone through the same feelings she did. Across the small table he put his hand on hers rubbing the back of her hand.”hey, enjoy yourself y’know? You deserve the best treatment. Can’t let ya leave out before you try the oxtails this place has.”

Ino was definitely trying to get her comfortable in his lifestyle and it was working slowly. Y/n didn’t even notice how she was wearing more tennis girl wear and going to a country club with him to meet some of his colleagues and friends.

He was showing he could be the boy to pay her bills and everything and more, before she even knew it.