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#cause i feel like i've used it in like every set lol

tremendum · 6 months

Text

Setting the Mood ; Mr. Miller vii

[not my gif] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman) rating: explicit. [18+. mdni] word count: 10k summary: ❝Joel's warming up to you in the way that feral cats warm up to a box with blankets in winter - cautiously, with a rigid spine and many false alarms.❞ warnings: power outage, one mention of cobwebs lol, smut - oral (f!receiving), nipple play, teasing, overstimulation, anal fingering (brief sorry), face sitting, pussy slapping!!!, tit slapping (once), begging, choking (light), fingering, rough sex, praise, dacryphilia, degradation, threats of using sex toys, Joel is less mean than normal, pussy drunk Joel!, squirting, brief mentions of guns/canon typical trauma and violence. also fairly fluffy. emotionally constipated joel and reader <3 notes: thank u all for ur patience & here's the next part! and Joel is a MUNCHHH in this one lol. special thanks to the anon who recently sent me such kind words about this series, as well as the other anon who gave me the inspiration & all the suggestions for this fic!!! this one's for u guys <3 [this is part seven of the Mr. Miller series.] [masterlist]

[important - this is the last fic that will be using my taglist. moving on, I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!] ★

"'s gettin' dark out there." Joel broods, eyebrow furrowed as he stares out the window into the dreary wink of evening, a dark gray clouding the sky as sheets of rain slam onto the pavement and pelt onto the gardens lining the block. "stormy."

you can't help but quirk your brow as you take in his worried form, the way he peels back the curtains like a wartime wife awaiting a letter or a figure appearing in the driveway. you have to fight back a laugh, instead putting on a straight face as you lean towards him, capturing his gaze.

"she's handled worse." is all you say, giving him a shrug - one that's met with a glare. "I know." he retorts, voice soured; a clench of a jaw before he turns back out, brooding, sighing, gritting his teeth. okay then.

you shift yourself, plopping heavily onto the couch - you're still not used to being in this house, even in its simple glory. Joel's boots, muddy by the door, Ellie's drawings littering the walls like little trophies Joel silently boasts about - none of them have frames, though you decide in a better world, they probably would. empty mugs of half-drank coffee on the counter next to the sink, a discarded hand knife on the dining table.

it's almost a complete mirror of your current house - with a tickling thrill, you'd realized this faintly the first time Joel'd thrown you onto the ground in his foyer months ago. he's since grown gentler with the way he handles you, at least, when he wants to.

even now - his tolerance, vastly expansive compared to months ago when a breath in his direction would cause a snarl within a second. now, he even initiates conversations - not often, but enough for you to feel like, at some point, things did change with him. Joel's warming up to you in the way that feral cats warm up to a box with blankets in winter - cautiously, with a rigid spine and many false alarms.

you don't particularly mind, either - Ellie and Dina have been helping you with the winter garden greenhouses a lot, and even Joel has stopped by on his way back from patrols to check in, lingering with glares or stares depending on his mood. he even came over to help you try and fix your porch steps leading to the backyard - free of charge, though you sent him home with some of the biscuits you'd made earlier that day.

you still get on each other's nerves - snide remarks, passes at the other's intelligence or capability. Joel criticizes you nearly every chance he gets, but you've come to decide it's a defense mechanism and not entirely in his full control. you, similarly, tease him every moment you can for his dramatics, but suddenly clam up and scamper away at any semblance of feelings or emotion. he always lets you come back though, without any mention of it.

"are you seriously worried about her?" you ask, sighing gently. you see the uptick in his brow when he looks at you, but you quickly follow up - "because we can go find her." you add, softer.

his jaw loosens slightly and he sighs heavy. "no, 's fine. I know she's at Dina's. just bein' dramatic."

you shoot him a look with your brows raised - no shit, Joel - but the withering look he gives you shuts your trap before you can go and run your mouth.

so you let him relax in his own way - pacing in near silence for several minutes before he stops, makes an internal decision to pour you and him each a finger of some amber whisky, and then drains it all in one go. you opt to sip yours.

the wind is what has you in a disturbed state - it howls louder in the basin of this valley than it ever has before in your life; screaming down the streets, blowing through the rush of firs that line the outskirts of downtown. and now, it uses its immense force to slam weeping drops of precipitation into the gardens hard enough to form bits of cold hail - a threat which, had it not been twenty years into the end of humanity, would likely still put gardeners to their beds with a curse to Demeter.

but now, circumstances are a bit more dire. losing crops, especially at this time of year, could be fatal.

"y'done with that?" his voice pulls you from your thoughts, looking up to see him standing above where you perch on the couch, gesturing to the towel in your lap. you blink, nodding, "-oh. yes, I am, thanks."

you use one last handful to scrunch up your wet hair, handing him the towel expectantly - but he stays rooted just in front of you, eyes staring unblinkingly at you. a sense of warmth floods through you, starting in your face and spreading over your chest and abdomen. his eyes are softer than they usually are; you lift a brow, his dark gaze unmoving. "something on my face, Miller?" you ask, lifting a brow. it's snappy - you don't necessarily intend it to be, but you can never tell with him.

he blinks, grabbing the towel from your hands which he'd provided for you when you'd arrived, sending you a grave look. "don't you start with me." he snaps back, turning to walk off towards the laundry room. the room, you think with foolish butterflies, where your jacket hangs up with its orange, janky stitching over the right side to dry. in some ways, a mark of Joel Miller. you smile down to yourself, staring at the spot he'd just stood.

you swallow your thoughts. you were here for a reason - not to get distracted, but to make a cake for Ellie. Joel had asked you a few days ago to help him bake a cake - for no apparent reason, you don't think her birthday is anytime soon - you'd agreed because, aside from the fact that there's little you wouldn't do for the girl, you haven't baked one in a long time and the lavender you'd grown last summer and dried is begging to be used in a cake batter.

"we need to get started soon!" you call out, shifting slightly to try and find his concealed body somewhere in the house. a faint call of his gruff voice responds to you, but you can barely hear through the onslaught of rain outside; suddenly, and with a careless flicker, the lights all shut off.

the whirring of heating stops, too, until everything is dark and silent.

you stare with shock, blinking in the dark - the house is silhouetted by the darkening sky, plagued already by thunderclouds. fuck.

"Joel?" you call out, rising on your feet to find him - you remember him mentioning in one of the first rounds of patrol with him - before anything, back when he really was just Tommy's brother - that he'd been some sort of handyman pre-apocalypse and so how the fuck has he just tripped the fusebox-

you feel him before you see him, unfortunately.

Joel, for all the time you've spent intimately knowing what his body feels like, shocks you every time by his sheer strength, the size of his shoulders and the broadness of his chest - especially when you slam into him in the dark.

"fuck," you both chorus at the same time, you stumbling back and him likely rubbing his shoulder. you groan as you hit a thumbtack stuck in the wall with your head, rubbing the spot sorely in the dark.

"the power's out." he states, irritation laced through his words. you roll your eyes, knowing it's unlikely he'll even see them in this light anyways.

"hadn't noticed."

your voice is flat and the silence that follows turns your face hot, taking a breath as you rock on your heels. "well I didn't do it." he states obviously, causing your brow to lift slightly until you look out to see through the muggy windows against the downpour that the whole block is out of power. damn weather.

"found a flashlight." he clicks it on, the light faint and dying as he brushes a few cobwebs from his hand - you realize the flashlight must have been from before the outbreak, with the original owners. but then the light is illuminating in your face; your eyes squint and you bat it away from you with a hiss, glaring at the man in front of you.

"what are you, a vampire?" he's holding in a laugh, you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, "you tried to blind me, that was a perfectly acceptable reaction. besides, I'm sure the batteries in that thing are a second away from corroding. don't put that near me."

he sighs, setting it beside him on some half-wall and you cross your arms. "suppose a guy like you probably doesn't have many candles, do you?" you ask, rocking on the balls of your feet - you really don't wish to spend the evening alone in your freezing house - nor in one that is completely dark.

"do I seem like I'd have any candles?" he asks, equally as exasperated as you. you let out a frustrated groan, leaning against a wall and jumping when you poke your hip into a table you hadn't expected to be there. you ruminate for less than a second before perking up, gasping in a sharp way that has his hand finding your elbow in alarm.

you ignore the flip of your heart at the gesture, tilting your head instead. "I have some. at mine." you say, shifting on your feet. it looks borderline dangerous to go outside right now - as you look out, it must occur to Joel that he's still holding your elbow because he jerks as if to remove it, but instead slides his hand up to hold your shoulder. it makes your heart skip a beat and you scarcely move a muscle.

Joel huffs a long-suffered sigh, before nodding. "let me get my boots."

getting to your house was less of a disaster than it should have been; Joel had the foresight to stuff a change of clothing into a bag after a brief argument about him not owning any umbrellas ('you don't have a fucking umbrella?' 'well pardon me for not havin' a Wal-Mart to stock up at during a fucking apocalypse.') and had held the lid of a trash bin above your heads as you ran, avoiding as much pelting hail as possible, to your front porch. you knew he was irritated - with the weather, with the fact that Ellie wasn't home, maybe even that you didn't get to make the cake - enough so that he wouldn't even make eye contact with you as you fumbled, fingers frozen and wet, for your key.

to your embarrassment, it's too stuck in the keyhole and your door wouldn't budge. it'd grown sticky and misshapen after the heat and sudden cold of winter, the frame wholly unfit to keep a functioning front door on its hinges.

"for god's sakes, give me them." he snapped, pushing into the frame and snatching the keychain from you, tinkering until he was able to slam into the doorframe with a grunt and burst it open.

"we needa fix that." he observes, ridding himself of his boots as you slink into the dark house after him, your face hot at his automatic assumption that he would help you fix your doorframe. he hadn't been particularly happy about fixing the steps for you, but he'd done it without being asked.

once you're rid of your wet coat and boots, you grab Joel's arm in the cold, dark space of your entry way and start to lead the two of you rather quickly up to your bathroom. "where the hell do you keep these things?" he grumbles until you've fumbles your way into the master bath, feeling around in the dark under the cabinets and avoiding stray screws sticking out near the drainpipes; it occurs to you that perhaps you should saw them off. maybe you could bribe Joel into doing it for you when he comes round to fix the doorframe.

seconds later you spin, holding up thick candles triumphantly, smirking as you shove three of them into his surprised arms. the lighting in your house is interrupted by the flash of lightning, flickering brightness over the dark porcelain tiles. "good thing we like to share, right Miller?" you smirk, grabbing the rest of the candles, eyeing the Epsom salt in a mason jar in the fading light, mentally noting to use that next time you take a bath.

he grunts at your words and you grin, shrugging. "what's mine is yours, right?" you ask sweetly.

he gives you a look as you make your way to the main bedroom to grope around for a lighter or matches - you can feel his irritation starting to wane away, slowly trickling like the beginning of a stream. "when did I ever say somethin' like that?"

you shrug with one shoulder, sending him a dark grin, "well you sure must've thought it that night when you invited yourself in to my bathroom."

it's quiet aside from the storm - your stomach broils in anticipation, heat and some kind of arousal tickling at your guts. there's nothing you love more than irritating him.

you tilt your head, desperately wanting to add more, but not in the particular mood to start a real fight.

Joel, at your words, doesn't get mad - instead he just stares on at you, much too silent, brooding.

his eyes swirl seductively, as if reliving that night in his head. you sure are - his stare, the way his eyes had trailed over your body, the soap slipping over your pert tits and just begging him to join you. in your mind, you leave out the blood and the wound from your stomach, the yelling from Joel and... well, everything that happened after that.

his eyes trail over your body, getting stuck on the curves of your hips and breasts, before meeting you again. when he opens his mouth, the words are not what you'd expected.

"this is too many candles for one woman to have in her bathroom." he grunts, shooting you a stern look that seems nearly sinister in the dark moonlight. the rain pours relentlessly on the roof and onto the windows, streaks in the reflection sliding down his broad chest.

bending over to reach the matchbook on your dresser, you toss him a little grin, "never said they were just for me. believe it or not, I tend to enjoy setting the mood."

his brows raise, setting the candles on the surfaces around him - two on the nightstand, one on the bench at the foot of the bed. you light each of them gently.

"set the mood." his voice is flat, twinging slightly with a hard jealousy that nearly has you floating.

"that's right." you nod, lighting the candles with a gentle smirk. he hums, crossing his arms as you cross to his side, lighting the candles and avoiding his eyes, suddenly very aware of the central piece of furniture in the room - your bed - and the lack of any chairs or couches.

"did you bring a lotta men into this room t'set the mood?" he asks suddenly, sending a wave of arousal through you. you hide your smirk as you turn back to him, illuminated by the flicker of candlelight. the implication of his words - did you - like he knows that you're only sleeping with him now. that he likes it that way.

you nod, "only the nice ones." your voice is nearly a purr; his eyes are dark pools, widening in the abyss of desire that threatens to swallow you both whole. his hands find purchase on your hips as you tilt your head.

"Ian?" he counters - both of you know the answer - but you don't mind leaning in to that curling, angry monster of jealousy that hides itself as indifference.

"maybe." you retort, leaning closer to him, tilting your head to keep eye contact. "it's always so much better when it seems romantic. they're not as selfish. less rough-" you see his eyes flicker when your hand coming to trail over his broad chest. "let me cum as much as I want."

of course, this was a fib. there were scarce numbers of people you let into your bed as is - even fewer who ever made you cum at all. Joel surely knows this - but his hands tighten around you all the same. "s'that right?" he asks, head tilting down to stare deep into you. you swallow, nodding with a grin. "it was much more civilized. and they weren't afraid to ask me to drinks or to come have dinner."

his smirk drops and, for a moment, a pang of guilt hits you; you hadn't meant to bring that up, in fact the prospect of going on a date with Joel scares you more than most things in the world - but he moves on quite quick.

"how many times?" he says instead, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. your confusion must show on your visage; Joel tilts his head, staring at you sternly, expectantly. "how many times did he make you cum?"

you blink, trying your best to continue your little white lie, but instead, your voice shakes out, "th-three." you admit. the smirk that curls under his stubble sends a flicker of dread through your gut - he's seeing straight through you.

you've cum three times with only one man - he's standing right in front of you, and he certainly knows it.

but he likes to play the game. so he nods, "okay, baby. three. I can beat three." he says simply, thumbs starting to rub slow circles into the skin exposed above your waistband. your cheeks heat, "wh-what?" you ask dumbly, watching the twitch of a grin that flickers across his skin in the dewy glow of the candlelight.

he shrugs, "been dreamin' about tasting that pretty little cunt all week."

your eyes widen - a hot coil of arousal swirls in your core as you stare up at him, wishing you'd swigged that whisky that lies over at Joel's in the dark like he had, if only for the courage.

because mutely, you've realized this is the first time anything has been initiated between you without an argument - and by Joel, nonetheless. he seems almost bashful when you look back at him.

"why'd you wait this long, then?" you ask, trying to sound coy but instead sounding very aroused, out of breath.

he lifts a coy brow. "waitin' for you to set the mood, I guess."

you stare at him for a moment.

his eyes flicker in some foreign kind of shyness, and then it occurs to you; you nearly burst out in laughter. "-was that a joke?"

your heart skips a beat when Joel lets out a small smile.

it's warm, syrupy - full of light. you nearly forget why you're laughing. "maybe. don't matter."

he seems so soft, so shy - as if embarrassed that he's admitting how bad he's wanted you all week. like you haven't been the same way.

but you can't seem to let it go - "a joke, from crabby old Mr. Miller?"

but you knew it'd come, using his name like that.

his hand is strong when he grabs your jaw, gentle but stern, and fighting his own smile - the smile lines around his eyes glowing and beautiful. you wish you got to see them more.

"doll, I thought we've talked about bein' respectful." he lifts a brow and you nod, swallowing your laughs quickly as his hand squeezes on your cheeks. "now, we've made it look real nice in here, haven't we?"

you take a moment before realizing he's waiting for an answer - you stand taller, nodding, "yes, sir." you agree, fighting the growing heat within you.

he nods, "'s right. so I'll treat you real nice, just like the boys you talk about." he sneers, weakening your knees. he moves you both slowly toward the mattress, tilting his head, "do you want that?"

does he even have to ask?

"yes, please, I want it." you agree, the desire to have him between your thighs growing unbearable. "we need'ya to come three times. you're going to count for me, aren't you?"

you wish more than anything you could defy such saccharine, sweet condescension from the man in front of you - but you've always been weak for him and his cruel mouth. you nod, staring up at his dark eyes, letting him push you onto the mattress gently. you faintly wish you'd taken the time to make your bead neatly this morning - but the thought is pulled from you as you note Joel's sudden hesitation. you tilt your head, about to ask if he's okay, when he abruptly speaks.

"you're so fuckin' pretty, darlin'." he says suddenly, looking at you with that exact stare from earlier on his couch; your heart flips as you stare up at him, swallowing. his hands come to your shoulders, moving until he's standing flush against the edge of the mattress, your thighs spread open for him to caress your neck gently. your heart pounds at the stark honesty of his words.

"beautiful." he whispers, feather-light touches over your neck, your chest shuddering and breaths short, staring in silence. "d'you know that?"

he's being uncharacteristically soft, and an inkling in your mind wonders if it's all a show - never would Joel Miller willingly be kind in such a manner. so giving, so... loving.

that panic that often finds you in the more tender moments flares up. you swallow thickly, "are you gonna get to it, or just stand there and stare at me?" you snap, the panic rising at his words.

his slow movements upon you stop, his eyes meeting yours sharply. something changes in him, a shift that is foreign and also familiar; as if snapping out of some trance and back into his original state.

"I'll do whatever the hell I want to." he snaps, "and you're gonna take it because I'm choosing to be nice to you." his voice is unforgiving - the cold tone with which you're used to. where you're safe, unafraid of what lies beneath tender caresses or words. "you hear me?"

you swallow down heat, a pool leaking into your panties - you're unsure if it's the way he was softly caressing you or the roughness of his words - probably both. "yes, Joel."

he lifts a brow, correcting you. "sir."

you swallow, nodding. "yes, sir." he leans over, kissing the crown of your head gently. "that's good. now I don't want to hear another fucking word out of you unless you're counting for me." he stares down out you, skin glowing under the scruff of his facial hair light up by the glow of the candles. he nods at your silence, a small smirk. "always liked you better when you're fucked so stupid you can't get a word out, anyways."

you don't dare speak, but you shoot him a withering glare, one that has him chuckling. "y'always act like such a brat, but you always end up doing what I tell you, don't you?"

you stare at him, your heartbeat in your throat, sat below him with your neck craned up. he raises his brows, hand coming to caress your jaw, "yeah, you do." he nods, "pussy can't get enough, huh?"

he's speaking in rhetorical, but you still want to slap him across the cheek.

you press your thighs closer but any kind of relief is prevented by his own legs as he stands between them. he leans forward, then, one hand pushing your jaw back until you're forced to look up to the ceiling; his other, snaking around your hips to thumb at the hem of your top.

his breath is hot as it hits your earlobe. "s'okay, I can't get enough of this pussy, either." he whispers, teeth nipping at your soft skin.

you sharply exhale as his hands tug on your top, releasing the looser buttons until it's held by only two of them, near your collarbones. he hums lowly, fingers rising to undo them himself. your skin is a wasteland of goosebumps, anxiously waiting for his touch.

he groans when you let the top slide off of you, your bare chest glowing alight by the candles. his eyes swallow you whole, amiring every part of you; your face burns warm, even as his hand trails one light finger down, over the swell of your left breast and brushing against your perked nipple.

"knew you weren't wearin' a bra." he grunts, his teeth scraping over your throat, "saw it the moment y'walked through my door. sat all pretty on my couch, teasin' me in this top." he growls, hands sliding over your shoulders to grope at your breasts.

you let out a sudden sigh - you hadn't noticed the baited breath that'd been held in your lungs the moment Joel'd pushed you onto the bed - you feel about to burst with need, your eyes pleading up at him. "sounds like you were just lookin' for it." you snap, eyes narrowing as you grow unwilling to play such games with Joel.

he wastes no precious moment; the smack is delivered light and playful to your right breast, stinging in pleasure as you gasp in a breath. his hand soothes over it even as he sneers in your face, leaning into your space, "did I tell you you could speak?"

you glare defiantly, "I thought we'd established by now that you always let me get what I want. you might even want it more than I do."

his hand finds its old home against your throat; holding you towards him, not restricting your airway but claiming you anyways. you feel another gush of arousal at the move, his eyes glaring into you. "oh, you'll get what you want, sweetheart." he says, voice holding no kindness, but an ominous amount of sincerity. "gonna be real nice to ya. all you're gonna do is sit here and look pretty. can you count to three?" he asks, voice rude. you glare back at him, "obviously."

he smirks, "we'll see."

and then he starts.

you aren't sure what you expected, but Joel wasn't lying when he said he was going to treat you nice. caresses over your skin, growing clammier by the minute- his clothes, still on and still wet from the downpour, sticking to his broad shoulders and expanse of his chest. his lips pepper over your neck, your jawline, teasing the corners of your mouth and releasing a cacophony of butterflies before dipping back down to your chest.

his hands are so large, gentle and intentional as they slide over the warmth of your skin. "pretty girl." he mutters, leaning so that one knee corners you, pushing you backwards until you're laying back on the mattress. you shutter a gasp as his thumbs and forefingers find your nipples, thumbing over them and sending currents of pleasure through you.

your whimpers and soft gasps are swallowed up by the sound of the storm against the roof, the cold house warming up by the second. he watches with lidded eyelids as his fingers twist your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain from you, pleasure blossoming through your body. you squirm, but he soon grows impatient, standing back and grabbing onto your ankles, tugging you towards the edge of the bed.

"keepin' all these slutty candles around, huh? how long you've been wanting to use these with me?" he asks gently, his fingers fumbling with your waistband. you help him, shoving them down your legs along with your panties, tossing them to his left.

"the candles aren't the ones that are slutty." you gasp as he pulls you closer to his hips, lifting you slightly of the mattress. his hard cock, separated from your yearning cunt by his denim, presses deliciously into you. he actually laughs at this; a shake of his head and a flutter of his eyelashes. "y'got that right."

he doesn't tease you like you'd expected - no, instead one finger circles your slit, gathering the sopping slick that leaks from you before gently sliding into your desperate heat.

you mewl loudly, eyes scrunching shut in pleasure. his finger is thick, warm; curling slightly as he slowly thrusts it into you. he hums lowly, one hand lowering you to the mattress then sliding up your skin to palm at your tits - they're stained with a few lovebites, brazen and still lined with excess of Joel's spit. it makes you shiver in pleasure. "that's it, baby." he growls lowly, "tight, real tight for me." sweat lines your brow as a low coil grows in your abdomen.

you nearly speak out of sheer habit several times, jolting when he hits your sweet spot repeatedly, hand flying to his hair and holding tight; he groans at that, deep and sweet. your eyes fall to his bulge and your hands move to palm him eagerly; he hisses in pleasure but the fingers not inside you catch your hands.

"not right now, sweetheart. not gon' be selfish, right? 's all about you."

when he adds a second finger, you're already squirming, regretting your doubt that he'd tease you. he's excruciatingly slow, gentle - his hand slides up to hold you by the throat, pushing you against your mattress as he starts to curl his fingers, thrusting harder.

you moan deeply as he finds your spot; your clit aches, neglected and throbbing, and your hand almost moves to relieve yourself before you second guess yourself and remain with your hands on his bicep.

you sigh, eyes rolling back as he fucks his fingers into you, wishing more than anything that his mouth was on you. or his cock in you.

his hand is a steady warmth against your throat and you know he can likely feel all the failed words and moans as they die out in your throat. he grins, fucking you steady with two fingers, "is there somethin' you wanna say, baby?" he asks, feigning genuine concern.

you groan out in frustration, that hot simmer growing as pleasure streaks through you. you glare at him, surely an amusing sight with the tears of frustration in your eyes. he tuts, pouting lightly. "c'mon, you can say it."

you swallow thickly at his permission, his hand peeling away from your throat momentarily to caress your jawline with his thumb. "use- use your mouth. please," you gasp, desperate as you move your hips against his fingers. he hums, "what, y'can't cum like this?" he asks, his fingers starting to pick up their pace. you grip his forearm and neck, gasping as your back arches from the mattress.

his fingers drag over your slick channels, the noise of your pleasure echoing as you nod, face crumpling in ecstasy. "fuck," you whimper, tugging on the nape of his neck.

he smiles, a dark thing in the dim light. "bet you can. let's see it, sweetheart."

you groan as the pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit; explosions of light appear behind your eyelids as he adds a third finger, his thumb rubbing circles around your sensitive bud.

his hand leaves your throat to press against your stomach; "y'feel that, darlin'?"

the pressure nearly pushes you over the edge, your thighs shaking as you grab for the bedsheets, hands leaving Joel in the shock of your nearing orgasm.

the noises echo in your ears as his pace picks up impressively; your knees shake as they start to close, your muscles seizing in pleasure. your whine is higher than normal as you squeeze around his fingers, white hot pleasure spreading.

you cum with your head tossed back, legs closing tightly as one of his hands tries to pry them open, fingers fucking you through your high.

you pulse, riding your high with stuttered breaths, fingers twisted into the sheets as he pumps his own into you languidly.

you remember wryly what Joel had asked of you, and you croak through a dry throat, "o-one."

you feel a huff of breath against your cheek before he hums. "that's good, baby." he murmurs, watching your cunt twitch, your arousal leaking out of you around his fingers.

you moan lowly as his fingers leave you, rising to his own lips to taste you; his eyes stay on yours as he palms himself lightly. you eagerly swallow, shifting your hips towards where he stands. yes, you need him in you-

he shakes his head at you as throws your legs away from him - you watch in shock as he starts to move. he pulls himself onto the mattress, laying upon your pillows, looking at you expectantly. "c'mere, baby." he mutters.

you blink at him, seeing his expression and slowly crawling to straddle him. your clit bumps against the denim of his crotch as you slowly rolls your hips over his, his straining cock delicious against you.

his hands find your hips and force your movements to halt with a strong grip. you stare at him, feeling embarrassed and confused, unsure what he wants.

he shoots you a look when you try to press yourself against him again, his fingers digging into your hips- "if y'think I'm fucking you tonight, you've clearly misunderstood."

your face must drain of blood as you stare at him, heartbeat pounding in your chest as you squirm. he moves down slightly, nodding upwards towards the top of your bedframe. "c'mere. and hold onto the edge if you can't handle it."

with a shaky breath and butterflies in your chest, you let him guide you upwards, until you're hovering over his face.

you let out a breath of desire, already throbbing in need; he stares up at you, "thought you needed my mouth on you?" he sneers. "play with your tits, baby, and ride my face." your fingers rise to your breasts, teasing your nipples gently as you whimper.

"now." he growls, hands pulling your hips down onto his face.

you gasp in shock, forehead and hands hitting the wall behind the bedframe as you jolt to stare at him. his tongue drives a fat lick through your soaked cunt, tasting your spend as your hips buck. your clit brushes against his nose- fuck, his nose; strong and slanted, beautiful as you press against it once again. pleasure shoots through you, curling your toes as you press against him.

all you can feel is Joel - your hands return to your breasts, if anything so that you have something to hold on to as ecstasy courses through you. his tongue circles your entrance lightly before sliding into you. you groan out, head falling back as you grind against his face; his groan reverberates in your cunt as a jolt of satisfaction causes your legs to weaken. "feels so good," you whimper, breathlessly; you don't even care that Joel told you not to speak, all you can think of is his tongue on you. the heat of your second crest starts to bubble over already; you let out a long moan.

you feel one of his thick fingers slide over the globe of you ass, gathering your slick before prodding gently at the tight ring of muscle below your cunt.

you gasp in shock, desire flooding you as need spurs you on, "fuck- please, sir, yes." you gasp, hoping the honorific will inspire him to give you what you really want.

he does. his finger breaches your hole slowly as you keen forward, gripping onto the headboard. he moans into your pussy as gushes of pleasure gather from the sensation and you whimper lowly, the feeling of his nose against your clit mixing deliciously as he slides his finger deeper into your ass.

if there's a better thing than having Joel's mouth on your cunt, it's that he can't speak like this; you start to move your hips, riding over his nose and fucking back onto his digit as he groans lowly.

"fuck- fuck." you groan, legs quivering, threatening to give out. he hums, leaning to chase your pussy as you move up, starting to move his finger inside your tight channel, his eyes staring up at you; you lock eyes as you thumb a nipple and your eyes roll back at the wide-blown pupils that meet you.

his hands, large and strong, pull you back against him, cementing you as he laps at your pussy, fucking his finger into you quicker and bringing you so close to your orgasm that you fall back slightly; your hand stabilizes yourself on his clothed chest; rolling your hips, the new angle sets your cunt into a wild frenzy of clenching, feeling incredibly close and chest stuttering as you near your high.

his finger leaves you suddenly as he pulls you towards him again - you barely have time to whimper at the loss of feeling before his tongue is flicking over your clit again, sending streaks of hot pleasure through you.

he's delving into you once again, his nose rubbing against you, your hips sliding over his face and finally pushing you over the edge.

your yelp of pleasure tails into a moan as you roll your hips, cumming on his face as you ride it out once again, legs shaking impossibly. you're muttering swears mixed in with his name as you ride out your second orgasm, shaking in desire.

"two," you whimper, sweat breaking on your forehead as one of his hands slides over your thigh, raking blunt nails over your skin. but he continues, your cunt sensitive as you jolt away from him as you catch your breath; you slide off of his chest to the mattress, your whole body tremoring with pleasure.

his face is flushed, chin glistening with your juices as he sits up, muttering, "don't you move."

you stop your movements, staring with hot cheeks and a swollen cunt as he turns, hands finding one of your pillows.

he leans forward to prop your head upon it; you gape at him in confusion, still pleased at the relief of strain in your neck but knowing you'll cum one more time before he's satisfied.

your body already yearns for it - you realize with a hot flash of arousal his intentions as he slinks backwards then, sliding to his knees.

your legs, despite yourself, spread for him. he smirks, "look at you, sweetheart, so willing for me."

you bite your lip, "just make me cum again," you say breathlessly, finding your strength again.

he raises his brows, "you sure you can handle it?" he asks, his palm sliding to cup your puffy cunt, the stimulation making you gasp. and then he slaps you, landing a harsh pressure on your clit that has you yelping, knees closing.

his other hand parts your legs, smacking you repeatedly until you yelp out, "yes!"

he stops his ministrations, instead rubbing your mess of juices all around you, causing you to sigh a gentle moan. he presses a kiss to your inner knee as he hums.

"I want eyes on me, sweetheart. can you do that?"

your eyes flick down to him as he settles between your quivering legs with a grin. a gentle kiss above your mound that has your eyes fluttering. "yes," you say breathlessly.

he rewards you with his lips against your cunt once again; it's immediately sending you over in stimulation, your legs tightening around his head before you gasp at the feeling, his tongue flattening over your swollen clit and plunging again into your entrance.

it's not long - your body is buzzing with electric desire, throbbing and jolting every time Joel's hands spread your legs open wider; your ankles curl and press into his back as his tongue alternates between flicking your clit and stroking as far into you as he can.

he's groaning into you, using his fingers to spread you further open for him; eating you out like it's his favorite meal. you're not sure if you'll stay conscious after your next high - you feel it creeping towards you and you whimper to Joel, starting to feel too sensitive.

"Joel- it's-" you whimper, pulling back and starting to crawl away on your hands, your legs tremoring with pleasure, moving up the mattress. he growls, hands grabbing you and pulling you back to him.

"not done with you yet." he murmurs, lips attaching back to your cunt. you buck your hips at the pleasure of overstimulation, hips moving away.

his hand grabs your ass, pulling you once again towards him, "stop fuckin' squirming. thought you wanted to get to three."

"I do," you whimper, gasping as his tongue traces around your pussy lips, tasting you and groaning into you. his face glistens with your juices and it's everything you can do to keep staring at him; he glares at you, "then don't complain."

his tongue licks a stripe up you again, swirling and sucking on your clit, and within moments you're nearing your high.

then suddenly everything - your fingers twist painfully as your body goes rigid, hitting your orgasm with a scream, your legs shutting around him and muscles spasming.

"that's right, sweetheart, ride it out." he mutters into you as you shutter, unable to form words but babbling his name incessantly as you push yourself up the mattress, away from the stimulation again as pain and pleasure swirl around your body.

fuck, you almost- you felt something different about that last one. he pulls himself until he's leaning over you, "think you're forgetting somethin'." he teases, his hands running up until they palm your tits.

you groan, hands shaking as they push against the mattress, the warmth of his body delicious. your eyes are fluttered shut, "two." you realize your miscalculation as it leaves your mouth -"n-no-" your eyes widen at your slip-up and you shake your head, embarrassed; your mind too consumed by Joel to fully function.

you wish he would just fuck you - his cock is unbelievably hard straining against his jeans and you urge to take him in any way you can. you'd let him have anything.

Joel sneers at you, amused by your flustered state. "d'they teach kids to count in these fuckin' FEDRA schools anymore?" he growls, slapping your pussy once more and making you yelp.

if you'd been paying more attention to his words, you'd have snarled that you learned how to count in public school, before the outbreak - and that he's a fucking idiot; you can't, however, as you're slapped on your sensitive clit once again.

fuck - a streak of euphoria through you at the jolt has your back arching.

"shut up, Joel." you whimper, "can you just- please, can you fuck me?" you ask, brows knitting together. he sighs, pulling back to stare at you with a stern stare. "just a little bit?" you beg, a ravenous force spurring in your blood. you need him.

"god damn it." he snaps, "I'm bein' so good to you, and all you can do is bitch and moan about my cock. got you so fuckin' obsessed, don't I?"

you groan in frustration, half of your body screaming to let yourself rest and half of you searing with desire and frustration. his words fluster you; even more so as he leans forward, hand spreading you apart to roll his clothed hips against your bare ones gently.

you let out a mewl, hips jerking back at the directness of the denim on your clit, the sharp sensitivity hitching in your throat. you ache and clench around nothing, your cunt begging to be filled by him. "please, Joel. I'll do anything." you insist smally, eyes fluttering shut. his lips ghost over your hairline and then peck your cheek in a shocking show of kindness.

"you can take it?" he murmurs against your lips. hope sparks in your heart and your bare ankles wrap around his his, pressing him against you, "yes, yes." you promise, nodding eagerly. he hums in thought.

"I'll fuck you with my fingers, then."

you gasp, hips jolting when his fingers spread your sopping lips, his eyes intent on your face as he circles your entrance. the tip of a finger notches against you and you flutter around him; your hands grasp onto his forearm and shoulder, staring up with a gasp. you're aching - you need him, any of him.

"Jesus, look at'you." he groans, muttering as his head dips to watch your pussy suck his fingers in with ease. he slowly pushes until he's knuckle-deep, groaning, "greedy little thing."

but his eyes stare and he doesn't move; you take it upon yourself to rock your hips, gasping at the pleasure you find as you take him even deeper.

he looks desperate, with his eyes wide, curls wet, mussed, and peppered on his head. "baby, I've gotta taste you." he grunts, suddenly sliding back down to lay between your legs; you mewl in shock as his mouth attaches to your clit in moments.

his fingers, then, start to thrust. gentle, at first, but you're so stimulated you shake your head, "can't-I can't." you whimper.

he shakes his head, the action notching his nose once again against your clit and sending shots of euphoria through you. you feel numb and on fire, eyes rolling back.

"you can, and you will." he mutters into your pussy, tongue sliding across the sopping plane of you as his fingers pick up their pace; your thighs clench shut around his head and squeeze - you can't help it - and he moans a genuine sound of pleasure at the feeling.

"you were so ready to when it was my cock. maybe I should use some of your toys you love tellin' strangers at bars about so much." he grunts, "make this little pussy cream even more."

your face burns as your eyes snap to him; a shiver of interest is soon overcome with the knowledge that you couldn't handle that; you glare at his words, anyways. that was one time, to him. when you were drunk. sure, not the best first impression, but- look where it got you.

you shake your head as you writhe below him, his lips returning to your sensitive mound to suck harshly as his fingers start to pump harder into you. he decides for himself with a hum, pulling away slightly, "no, you taste too fuckin' good. gonna stay here all night."

you believe him.

he tears you apart, tongue lapping you up, twisting his fingers, curling them as he slides them into you; the noise of your cunt wetly taking Joel's fingers and mouth make your eyes roll back.

he's everywhere - your fingers twist once again into the bedsheets, your toes curling as all of your muscles tense.

his fingers leave you suddenly, the feeling leaving you to suck a gasp into your lungs as he trails his hand over the valley of your breasts and into your mouth; you suck your juices off of his fingers eagerly, your mouth falling open in a yelp when he nips gently at your clit.

you jerk away, knowing you're sharply close to your next orgasm, your body tremoring and tears forming in your eyes.

the overwhelming pleasure is building immensely and you squirm away from him with a gasp hands coming to cover your pussy as it spasms, aching and leaking arousal.

"J-Joel- I can't," you wail.

he tuts, "c'mon, taste fuckin' amazing. love this little pussy." his arms snake around your hips, dragging you back and smacking your own hands away from your core. you sigh at the gentle swirl of his tongue through your swollen folds, hands carding into his hair and gripping tight. he mutters it quietly, "jus' one more, sweetheart, you can do it."

you whimper, a tear streaming down your cheek and onto your neck, "I can't, it feels so good, I can't-" you whimper, a direct contradiction to the shaking quiver of your thighs as you roll your hips, savoring the feel of Joel's thick tongue against you.

he hums lowly at your hip's movements and it makes you scream; the vibration and the nudge of his nose on your clit too much-

it hits you all at once.

you can't see anything; your hand flies to the sheets as one hand pushes Joel hard away, euphoria slamming into you harder than you ever have.

you feel the pads of his fingers, swirling over your clit as your hips buck wildly. you're sobbing, a state of bliss you've never felt before. your orgasm lasts much longer than you'd expected, euphoria rolling in waves that keep coming to shore.

when you come to, pussy still clenching in residual flutters, you have to suck in a deep breath.

through your tears, you see Joel's face; the bottom half is soaked in your juices, even the mattress is damp from your high - oh. you didn't know you could do that.

he presses a kiss to your thigh - you jolt, whimpering lightly. he shushes you, hands finding your hips as you shake, trying to come down from that high. "four." he mutters, smirking as you groan, your head falling back. "fuck." you hiss, throat raw.

"that wasn't so hard, was it sweetheart?" he snarks, still not moving from between your thighs, though you're sure they're dead weight on top of his shoulders. says him.

"fuck you, Joel-" but your words stop short and you gasp, hands flying as you feel Joel's tongue lick up the side of your cunt; "I can't Joel-" you sob, shaking your head, "'s too much."

you're so overstimulated you feel like you're floating - but after your shock you realize he's avoiding the sensitive areas, gently swirling his tongue in your wetness. tasting you just for the sake of it. he just shushes you once again- "hey, hey," he soothes, hand petting your hip gently, "just tastin' it. gotta clean you up." you shouldn't, but you feel a hot flood of arousal just at his words. your hands relax in his hair as he slowly moves his mouth around you, avoiding your oversensitive clit mercifully.

"you just rest. did real good, sweetheart. was so fuckin' sexy." you can't rest, though your body slumps and your eyes shut - his tongue runs lazy, thick circles around your pussy, gentle. you can tell - it's not for you, and maybe it never really was; Joel's loving it, and he's not planning on stopping anytime soon.

and you stay like that - eyes closed, catching your breath and calming your tears, as Joel's hands run soothing shapes over your side and thighs, his mouth not leaving you for a second.

it was minutes, could have been almost an hour, and you slowly fell from your teetering edge of unraveling; instead, a slow burn was once again ignited in your stomach as Joel lapped away at you, eating you out gently and devotedly.

occasionally there was a groan or a moan from him, gentle - or a mutter into you about how good you tasted. you'd move your hips gently when something fluttered deliciously and you chased that feeling, thinking of all Joel's words tonight which have made you flush - and most of them praise.

he's like a man starved.

and by the time you start to climb that hill again, your muscles aching but pussy fluttering in desire, you're burning up. you cry again, gently.

he brings you to orgasm a fifth time with a moan into your pussy and your hand gripping his own for dear life.

he laps everything that spills from your weeping cunt as you let out a scream of his name, swallowed by the noise of the outside thunder. you shake and tremor, blissed beyond anything you've felt, tired and spent.

he holds himself to you and you have to twist, crawling away from the devilish mouth that calls your name, his hands gentle as he lets you go; finally having mercy on your destroyed body.

you feel like you're floating, unable to stop shaking.

it's then that he chooses to strip down to his boxers; you watch him with shock as he does so, unsure if he's going to propose you take his cock now - you don't know if you could.

instead, he drops a kiss to your forehead. "I'll be back."

he's in there long enough for you to deduce that he's decided to take care of himself on his own, in the shower - a decision that disappoints you but also seems very thoughtful. there's that flicker of selflessness you see sometimes in Joel - the things he tries to hide.

you hear the faucet running in the bathroom and when he comes back, there's a washcloth and a cup of water for you.

he doesn't wipe between your legs until you're done shaking - and after, you sit there, your hand curled around his bicep, while he soothes over a few strands of your hair.

"gonna need new candles." you mutter, nodding to where they all sit, dripped down to within an inch, wax splattered atop your table and over the side of the foot chest.

"I'll get you a million candles 'f you let me taste you like that again." his chest rumbles as he speaks. a flicker of butterflies once again appear in your chest and you shrug, "I know I said I like when it isn't rough..." you trail off, face burning, "-but none of them ever did... any of that. and I really liked that."

besides, you both knew the moment it left your mouth that your words weren't true - in honesty, Joel has done nothing but rough you up and you always crawl back for more. you wouldn't have it any other way.

he scoffs, "good thing you're mine now." he mutters, "taste like fuckin' heaven. could watch you squirm all day." he drops a kiss to your temple and your eyes bore down at your lap; his words hold a semblance of possessiveness - not unfamiliar to this thing that you have with him, but now much more meaningful to you. why is your heart fluttering so fast, a grin growing on your face?

he clears his throat after a moment, shifting to sit up. in the process, your arm falls from his and you turn to look at him.

"do you remember last time I was in here?" he asks suddenly and you have to snort. "was dying of infection, yes I remember."

he sends you a look. "you were not dyin'. don't be dramatic." he counters, eyes narrowed.

you grin, rolling your eyes, "you were the one who was acting like it was such a big deal." you defend with a shake of your head. he sighs, "well I-" he stops short and it occurs to you that he's having trouble getting words out.

you look into his eyes gently, and he's searching yours. you're not sure what he's looking for. "shit," he mumbles, looking slightly lost - you've seen him like this, before - once.

"I'm tryin' to be less...mean. when it counts." he says intently, looking at you. "y'know, after we talked, and I..."

he trails off but you wait patiently for him to find his words.

he finds them eventually. "-well, that time I was here, when I helped you with your bandage..." he stutters his way through it and takes a deep breath. "I said something, that night." he starts again, running his hand over his face.

"you tend to say a lot of things when we're together." you supplement, your heartrate picking up. you're starting to feel your fight or flight kick in.

he rolls his eyes. "yeah, well. I said... that you were probably hopin' I would want t'make you my girl." oh. yes, you remember that. "-and I said that it was pathetic you'd think that." he says, not looking at you.

you too look away; yes, he's said many cruel things to you - that one, in particular, has haunted you many nights after waking up from dreams of warmth and sunshine and Joel's hand in yours.

"one of your best lines yet." you say, unsure what else to do. your gut twists in rejection at just the memory - then, it'd been in the heat of an argument and you'd just used it as kindling to fuel your fire, but it has since become a more prevalent proof every time you start to think too much about the what ifs.

Joel isn't amused by your words. "I'm just saying, if you did ever want somethin' like that - not that you would, but...it wouldn't be pathetic." he finally finishes. "it was a stupid thing to say." he mumbles quickly, still looking away - through the dim glow of the dying candles, you can see the red on his cheeks.

you feel hot, the implications of his words. he wouldn't mind if you wanted him to be yours. if you wanted to be his. your stomach flips.

grazing your hand over his back, you brush your lips to his shoulder. "you didn't mean it. we say a lot of things we don't mean. both of us." you answer softly, your lips caressing his bare shoulder. you feel the goosebumps under you across his skin at the touch and fight a small smile.

“remember when I tried to hit you?” you ask, thinking back to that disastrous dinner and the delicious aftermath on his foyer floor.

he smirks, finding the courage to look down at you. “think ‘bout it a lot.”

you hit his shoulder playfully, shaking your head with your own wry grin. of course he does.

he looks at you faintly, a hint of a smile flickering over his face. "we've been through a lot of shit together." he murmurs. he eyes the dresser across from you, lit up by a candle; you don't know how, but somehow he pinpoints exactly where you've hidden your gun, in your sock drawer. and he probably knows exactly why it's hidden.

"-don’t get me wrong, I like this thing we got goin’ for us, with the teasing and fighting - but I just want you to know I trust you. and I care about you." he says just as gently, his face flustered. your face heats at his words, a gust of affection blowing through you at his bashfulness.

you smile, leaning in to him; your hands snake around his neck as you gently pull his face to you. he finds more words, "sometimes you're a pain in my ass-" he raises a brow before you can snap back at him- "-but nothing you could do is... pathetic. 'specially not thinking something like that."

his eyes are large and hold none of the desire that they did thirty minutes ago; instead they hold something much deeper, more vulnerable. you don't feel scared by it.

you smile, "I trust you, Joel." his eyes stare into yours unafraid. "thank you. I care about you too."

and you're not ready to say everything else to him - no, not yet, even though your heart's known it for a while and so have you, somewhere in the back of your mind.

you do want something like that. you want exactly that.

"-and," he starts, "since this was your idea of something more civilized," he sends you a look through the corner of his eye; you know this isn't the worst of your sins committed with Joel, but you recognize his sentiment with a smirk, thinking back to your earlier words. you hide your growing smile as he adds:

"-maybe we could get drinks sometime."

taglist closed - this is the last fic that will be using my taglist. moving on, I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!]

@elissaaa @satansgoatt @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @silencesscreams @silkiers @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspams @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @buckyhoney @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @notsosecretspy @okyeeaaahhhh @thirdoffive @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @cutesyscreenname @wannab-urs @soooooyesbutactually-no @redhotkitchen @omlwhatamidoinghere @joelapologist2001 @leeeesahhh @bitchyikes @bigboiseason123 @furseal1986 @mumma-moonchild @kamcrazy123 @pseudonymist @xyz32 @xlengueterax @suzmagine @sushiwriterhere @yourwinchesterbros @littlesuckyducky @worhols @hearthrooob @thatgingefromtheinternet @grhowls @letterstopedrito @those-late-night-feels @trashmuseum @holeforjoel @charismatic-writer @nervous-plant @sushiumex @undrthelights @tarcinblue @fleursdecherise @alltheseperfectimperfections @whorror-s @thecasualnope @scarletthefierce

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grandeoatmilklatte · 2 months

Text

Snakes and Secrets 🐍 (Tom Riddle x Female Reader)

A/N: So yeah, this is very different from my usual work LOL. I've been wanting to branch out and write something besides Ominis all the time, so I settled on his descendant instead!

If you've read my work before and this looks familiar, that's cause this is essentially a redoing of my Ominis fic Love and Secrets, but with Tom instead.

Shoutout to @marketfreshfics for being my Tom Riddle simping bestie lately 😘

Warnings: nsfw || mdni || characters are aged up 18+ and in 7th year || p in v || BJ || degrading || use of parseltongue ||

A frustrated groan fell from Tom’s mouth as he leaned against the wall he stood in front of, crossing his arms across his chest in annoyance. A moment later, he heard the soft shuffling of your footsteps coming towards him, turning towards the sound. “You’re late!” he spat at you when you approached.

You scoffed. “I’m TWO minutes late. You know, we don’t all have that Tom Riddle charm that allows us to just stroll around the castle at all hours of the night! Some of us have to actually make sure the coast is clear first before we go sneaking around.”

Tom rolled his eyes at you before pushing you up against the wall, catching you by surprise. You let out a soft squeal, but your sound was immediately silenced by his lips crashing into yours. You kissed him back with equal passion, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. His lips then moved down to your neck, biting down on your skin. A moan falling from your lips as he did so.

“Are you planning to fuck me in the middle of this hallway, or did you have something else in mind?” you questioned breathlessly.

Tom pulled his mouth away from your neck. “Oh, doll, I’d love nothing more than to take you in the middle of this hallway, but not tonight. I have another location for us to dirty up instead. Follow me.” He said before turning to lead the way.

You followed Tom down the increasingly dark corridor until he led you into a bathroom. You recognized this bathroom as a girls bathroom that went unused most of the time. “The girl’s bathroom? Classy, Riddle. I would have preferred the Restricted Section like last time.”

Tom chuckled darkly. “Beggars can’t be choosers can they, doll? And if I remember correctly, you were begging for me to ruin you earlier tonight. You didn’t seem to care about the location then, did you?.” He shot you a smirk, which annoyed you, but at the same time left you with a tingly feeling between your legs.

“Now, get on the sink.” Tom commanded, his voice echoing through the empty bathroom. Never being one to disobey him, you positioned yourself on the sink, spreading your legs to accommodate him. Tom wasted no time, immediately slipping himself between them and shoving his hands up your skirt to rip your stockings and underwear down and off onto the floor, his own pants and underwear joining a second later. He then spat into his hand and pumped himself for a moment before slamming his cock into you.

Tom was never one to be gentle, setting a rough pace immediately. Your moans bounced off the walls of the bathroom as he fucked you, and you could feel the bruises already forming on your skin between his tight grip on your thighs, and the way your body was being bumped against the cold ceramic of the sink. But you didn’t care. The pain was worth it for the ecstasy he provided you every time he fucked you. You adjusted your body, leaning back further on the sink and bringing your legs up higher, wrapping them around Tom’s back so he could sink deeper into you, the action earning yourself a hiss from him. As he continued to ravish your body, another hiss fell from his lips, followed by a longer string of hissing sounds. You knew these sounds to be Tom speaking parseltongue.

Tom had a habit of involuntarily speaking the ancient snake language whenever your encounters were particularly intense. He never translated what he was saying, but knowing Tom, it likely was something sexual and degrading. Although you had no clue what was being hissed at you, you found the act incredibly sexy, letting out a moan of his name in response.

“You filthy whore! I can feel the way your cunt tightens around me when I talk to you like this. You don’t even understand me yet the sound of it drives you wild. You’re pathetic, you know that? Another pathetic whore for me to play with and yet…I can’t get enough of you. You feel incredible!”

This second set of incomprehensible hissing sent you racing towards your peak as you orgasmed around him with another cry of his name. Tom hated admitting to it, but feeling your release always brought him right to the edge himself. He thrusted into you several more times, letting you ride out your release before speaking in English this time.

“Get on your knees so I can fuck that pretty mouth.”

You hopped off the sink, dropping to your knees immediately before your shaking legs had the chance to give out. Tom grabbed a fistful of your hair and began to roughly fuck your mouth, each thrust from him hitting the back of your throat. Tears began to form in your eyes as you willed away your gag reflex, your mouth not quite as used to him yet as the rest of your body was. Tom looked down at you, his glistening green eyes locking with your tear stricken ones. The sight of you so spent sent Tom plummeting over the edge, hissing one last time as he released down your throat.

“Such a good little whore, taking my seed in that whore mouth and swallowing every drop. That’s right, doll. Take all of it! OPEN UP FOR ME!”

As Tom loudly hissed his last words, one of the sinks a few feet from where you were situated began to rattle, opening up to reveal a dark passageway that seemed to lead underground underneath the bathroom.

Tom began to laugh maniacally as you fell backwards, ending up on your butt as you stared at the opening terrified. You looked over at Tom, unable to comprehend what was so funny.

“Riddle, what in Merlin’s name just happened? Did you just open a tunnel under Hogwarts with…parseltongue?!”

“Oh, it’s nothing, doll. Just a little secret left behind by Salazar Slytherin. A chamber holding something incredible.” His eyes seemed to light up as he spoke, giving you the impression that he was very familiar with whatever was down there.

“But you needn’t worry your pretty little head over it.” He turned and shot you a smile, a smile that left you a bit uneasy before turning back towards the opening. He began to hiss once again, seemingly commanding the opening to close as the sink began to return to its original form.

“No friend, she’s not dinner. Her blood is pure. But don’t worry, I’ll be back shortly with something for you to eat. Rest for now, we’ll have plenty to do soon.”

He turned back to you, offering his hand to lift you to your feet as you exited the bathroom. He walked you back to the Slytherin common room, bidding you good night so he could resume his sneaking about the castle.

“Same time tomorrow, but the restricted section this time.” It wasn’t a question, but a command, one you couldn't deny, no matter how uneasy tonight left you. You smiled at him, feeling comfort in the fact that there weren’t any terrifying chambers waiting in the library as far as you knew. He left you with a quick kiss goodnight before walking away, disappearing into the dark corridors, leaving you to wonder what could possibly reside in that chamber.

#tom riddle smut #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle

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foreingersgod · 2 months

Text

Is it Casual now? . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: you thought you and caitlin were endgame, but now things are starting to feel a bit different

A/N: will be shifting the “ending” of the song so that we can all enjoy a happy ending lol

My friends call me a loser

'Cause I'm still hanging around

“YN come on we’ve had these plans set for weeks now” your roommate complained from her spot on your couch.

life had been so hectic recently and you barely had anytime to hang out with your girls. so when you heard caitlin was going to be out of town for the week and you had work off, you thought to set plans with your roommates to have a movie night and dinner at your place.

“seriously, you’re just gonna ditch us off?” another one of your roommates chimed, slightly irritated. you were scrambling around your apartment, throwing things into your overnight bag for when you arrived at caitlin’s place. “caitlin shoots you one quick text that she’s back in town earlier than expected and you’re immediately at her beck and call?”

you rolled your eyes. you knew what they thought of caitlin, that she was a player and only wanted you for one thing. but to you, it felt different, like she genuinely wanted you there at her side

I've heard so many rumors

That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

“she just wants you for a quick fuck, YN”

you’ve heard it all before. and you were very aware of how bad it looked from the outside. caitlin would only reach out late at night, never took you out, never bought you gifts, or offered to come over to your place. no wonder everyone thought you were just a booty call, every possible flag was blazing red.

and you often had your fair share of skepticism when caitlin called you up at 2 am with a “sorry i hadn’t called all week, you down to come over?”. but you always felt so worshipped when you were with her, completely blinded by the attention and false promises.

I thought you thought of me better

Someone you couldn't lose

she fucking stood you up. again.

you were sat at a bar, swirling the contents of your lip stick stained class. the classy black dress you wore suddenly felt suffocating and your eyes welled with tears. you couldn’t stop staring at the blaring 9:30 on your phone, thinking back to your conversation with cait the night before.

cait <3 : yea baby i can do 8:30, how does that bar down town sound?

you : that sounds really nice, see you then :)

it was your fault really, you kept hoping she would change. that maybe one of these dates would actually mean something to her, but after sitting in a bar alone waiting for an hour for her arrival, you were starting to lose your optimism.

sick of waiting, you paid your tab and left, not even thinking of texting caitlin back.

You said, "We're not together"

So now when we kiss, I have anger issues

“i missed you last weekend, cait” you muttered, pushing her face away from the crook of your neck, letting your head fall back against the pillow.

she had sent yet another text to you a few hours ago, asking if she could makeup for standing you up. of course, you gave in immediately.

she had sweet talked you so nicely when you arrived at her apartment. whispering in your ear, leaving trails of kisses down you neck and abdomen, taking your clothes off so gently. but the thought of her possibly abandoning you again lingered in the back of your mind.

“i know, i already said im sorry,” she attempted to seduce you with a kiss to the cheek “am i not showing it well enough?” now a kiss to the jawline.

she knew what she was doing, trying to act all innocent with flattery and kisses. if you weren’t so sick of the back and forth between the two of you, you would have let it convince you.

“cait, please. i want to talk about this”

“what is there to talk about?” her voice, once inviting was now laced with anger and irritation.

“don’t get defensive with me” you sat up, pushing her off your vulnerable body “i’m just trying to tell you that what you’re doing is hurting my feelings”

she looked at you expressionless, fingers rubbing at her temples.

“i want to spend time with you and it hurts when you ignore me and stand me up and-”

“yea, well we’re not together so…” she cut you off sharply.

it felt like a punch to the gut, hearing her say that. yea it was true, you weren’t together, but you don’t just act like the person you’re fucking isn’t worth anything to you.

“wow” you didn’t even know what to say. your eyes stung and you chest heaved with humiliation. did she truly think this wasn’t “together”?

You said, "Baby, no attachment"

“YN i really don’t know what you want me to say…i thought we both agreed that this was a casual thing?” she tried to tell you as you angrily picked up your discarded clothes from her bedroom floor.

“i don’t care what we SAID, caitlin” you stopped, buttoning up your shirt, looking her in the eyes “it’s what we keep DOING.”

“what are you talking about?”

“i know we said this was just a casual thing, but- but things started to change. we…ugh i don’t even know how to say it, but it just feels so different when we’re together. more than a casual hookup.”

she’s looking at you confused, pleading for an explanation.

“like when we hooked up that time after Iowa’s big game, you were knee deep in the passenger seat and eating me out? is that casual?”

she scoffed and rolled her eyes, but you egged on.

“or when your mom invited me to her house on Long Beach last summer? what about that, is that causal now?” your face felt hot as you raised your voice to her. you had surprised your self with these accusations.

“I hate that I let this drag on so long, caitlin, and now I hate myself”

all she did was stare, studying the features of your face. every crinkle in your nose, the way your lips quivered with anger, and every twitch of your right eyebrow was now forever embedded in her mind. she knew you were right, deep down, knew that she had fucked up so bad and that you only hated yourself because of her. she knew that her inability to commit had caused you pain and her avoidance issues had gotten out of hand.

“i’m sorry” she admitted, “i’m so fucking sorry that it hurts”

“caitlin, why? am i truly just a quick fuck to you?”

your question nearly knocked the wind out of her. she stood off the bed and meandered over to where you stood at the door, your pants still undone and your items thrown haphazardly into your overnight bag.

“no,” she breathed “you’re so much more than that”

it’s like you couldn’t speak, unable to do much else other than stare at her quizzically.

“i know i’ve treated you like shit. that i’ve fucked up far beyond fixing”

“so why don’t you show it? why sit here and tell me that it’s ok to ignore me and stand me up because we’re just ‘not together’? i don’t get it cait”

her hands ran over her face in frustration, she hated the confrontation. having to tell you all of this was sending her into a spiral. things were fine before tonight, she was able to do want she wanted and ignore all her feelings. and it all came crashing down the second she had gotten you into her bed, instantly faced with reality. tonight was it. she needed to be honest with you.

“i didn’t think i could love someone as much as i love you” she blurted out, which was followed by a deafening scoff from you.

“i’m serious,” she retorted “obviously i haven’t shown that, i’ve done nothing but be cruel to you. but the moment i met you, i knew you would have some sort of hold on me. and it scared me, YN”

you tried to interrupt, to take another stab at her childish behavior, but she kept going.

“i was so scared that i’d lose you, that you’d see through me and all my issues and eventually realize that i’m not worth having a real relationship with. so i tried to keep my distance from you, tried not to see you so it didn’t absolutely tear my heart apart, but i couldn’t help myself. i needed to have you, just a little bit, so i what it felt like to be loved by you. i just couldn’t risk ruining you, taking away a genuine life that you truly deserve all because i’m fucked up and avoid everything. and hooking up with you, to be completely transparent, has only made it worse because…because now i’ve seen what i actually lost”

“you,” there weren’t any words to express how you felt right now “you don’t need to avoid me, cait, you won’t ruin me. i know what i want in a relationship. it’s you, i want you”

“i’m just scared you’ll finally see past this whole thing and see that you don’t actually want me like that”

“i know you. i know that past this,” you waved your hands, gesturing between the two of you “there’s a different caitlin clark. one who doesn’t undermine herself and recognizes that she’s deserves real love just like how i deserve it. one that can address her commitment issues before they get out of hand like this did. one that won’t stand me up, that won’t shoot me down because she has ‘practice’. i know that the real you is perfectly capable of change.”

“i’m scared.” was all she managed “but i want to do better for you, i don’t think i can be without you, please let me fix this”

it came out as a desperate whisper, almost incomprehensible, but you heard her loud and clear.

“it’s going to take some time…but i’m willing to work on this.”

“i swear to god, YN, i’m going to be so much better. i’m done with the hookups and the late night texts. i just want you. all of you”

your hand found her cheek, pulling her towards you gently to place an intimate kiss on her lips.

“i believe you”

#Spotify #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wcbb #wcbb x reader #casual #chappell roan

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dojunie · 4 months

Text

MISDIAL; LJN [CH5] VOICEMAIL REDUX

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

very slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this chapter; kys mention in joking manner

chapter wc: ...13K

a/n: i couldn't decide between posting this monster whole or cutting it into two parts, but two parts kind of makes the pacing weird, so here she is in all her glory! been editing this so long that i've gotten sick of looking at it so im just going to release it into the world now LOL, pls pls pls give me feedback on this chapter, im not 100% satisfied w it but i cant tell if its because it sucks or i've just been rereading it too much 🥸

current tl: @hibernatinghamster / @jenoxygen / @eaglesnotravens / @donutswithjaminthemiddle / @jvjsssnaa / @huangrenhyucks / @luvenshiti / @shiningdery / @jaeminsbebu / @aliceinwhateverland / @bebsky / @gem-gem / @jkjkseo / @jenosbliss / @pewpewpwe00 / @ti–red / @philanarose / @softbbyg0rl / @aaasteroidsky / @carelessshootanonymous / @en-boyz / @jlsavyy / @roseymerrie / @bangchanisemo / @skuezk / @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples / @ourbeautifulaffair / @jeonnyread / @jvjsssnaa / @episkeyjeno / @bockhyun / @jenojammin / @zarastrawberry / @peachie-bear / @itadaramaterasu / @alymii / @cuteejeno / @episkeyjeno / @nohunlee / @ooojisoo / @luv4jeno / @jydivrs / @pinkysinnerbaby / @jenojenoyes / @maeyoung / @axmdocs / @nctzennikki09

FORGET WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT NEVER BEING ABLE TO GET MAD AT SOMI, BECAUSE THIS TIME, YOU’RE REALLY GOING TO KILL HER.

At this exact moment in time, the Aegon Showcase is set to begin in about fifteen minutes. You’ve got half of a chocolate muffin stuffed into your mouth (courtesy of Somi sneaking a few snacks from the audience lounge, since the dancers technically weren’t supposed to be eating any of the guest refreshments), and you were about halfway through swallowing this chunk of bread when Somi said something that made you nearly choke.

For context: six and a half days have passed since you’ve last spoken to Jeno.

And you haven’t been counting, either. It just so happens that it is surprisingly easy to recall every passing minute when each one feels like it’s been put there specifically to test you.

The afternoon after the Balcony Incident, for example— a few fresh hours after you left Lee Jeno behind on that overlook with the full intention of never looking him in the eyes ever again. After a late breakfast with Somi you’d told her you weren’t feeling too well, that you’d be leaving a little earlier than planned (which, even though you’d said your pain was of the intestinal variety, wasn’t untrue; you didn’t feel well, if the widening pit in your stomach caused by that morning was anything to go by) and departed her penthouse a little after one.

You’d foolishly hoped that Jeno and his entourage would have plans literally anywhere other than Mark’s place for once, wanting to do nothing but silently mope around the apartment for a few hours once you'd gotten home, but you’d been naive.

You’d been so, so naive.

“Oh!” you’d heard. Renjun. Brown hair, big dark eyes peeking at you around the doorframe as you cradled your now-aching nose bridge. You opened the front door and crashed face first into something solid. “Hey, you. Perfect timing. Do you wanna come grocery shopping with us? Jaemin’s cooking tonight!”

“We’ll even let you ride in the cart,” Chenle chimed in from further into the hallway, grinning wickedly, but you couldn’t focus on either of them because they were both half-hidden behind what you’d smashed into with your haste to get inside. No gray flannel this time, but the same unreadable expression on his face as he, much like he did at the party last night, instinctively grabbed you to keep you from falling on your ass.

(Or his expression was unreadable. Until his eyes trained on something about your face that he didn’t like and his dark eyebrows furrowed with something akin to concern. Then you remembered you’d been crying all morning and surely looked like some sort of dried-out blowfish, eyelids puffy and swollen, so you averted your eyes and jumped out of his grip like he’d stung you.)

“Busy,” you told them quickly, “Sorry. Not today.”

Renjun pouted. Chenle squinted at you, obviously doubtful. And when Jeno finally moved out of the way, you didn’t even thank him for keeping you upright. You just kept your attention on the ground and beelined into the apartment.

Little did you know, that one word would become your mantra. Busy, busy, busy. But it wasn’t like you were completely lying, because you were busy. The Aegon showcase was in a week which meant you had practice every free hour with Somi and the others, and the last thing you needed was to get distracted by circling Jeno like some kind of sad, miserable shark. The good thing about being out of the house so often was that most of the week passed with no more Jeno-related incidents.

Thursday night ended up being the first time you’d seen him with your own eyes since you face-planted into him the previous Saturday.

You’d returned home at 10PM, sweaty and exhausted from a last minute choreo change that had, apparently, also wiped clean the memory of what Thursday nights meant in the Mark Lee household. Movie night. The tiredness you felt was so all-encompassing that upon the discovery of all seven of them sitting around the couch staring at you as you entered, there wasn’t even enough energy to feel awkward. Even then, you must not have looked as ghastly as you felt because Jaemin smiled at you like nothing was amiss, gesturing towards the dining table and the mountain of brown bags atop it.

“You’re late, Rockstar. Take-out’s gone cold.”

Jeno was sitting right next to him. Your muscles were like jelly. All of your bones hurt. Your brain felt like it was operating on nothing but fumes. (And this is what you blamed for your cowardice— the fact that you couldn’t even hold your head up to look in his direction in fear of catching his eye.)

After everyone had gone home and you had free reign of the kitchen once again, Mark hit you with a few more questions about the Aegon Comp; seemingly insignificant inquiries like how the parking situation was (which you didn’t understand the importance of, since he said he’d probably ride his bike there), and if he could sit wherever he wanted (which again, confused you, because the ticke you’d gotten him was one of the best in house). But in your state of fatigue you didn’t think to question it. All you wanted to do was eat something and go to bed, and that’s exactly what you did.

(If you’d had your wits about you maybe you’d have put two and two together. Maybe Somi’s words wouldn’t have caught you with the surprise they did. But as it stands…)

As it stands it’s Friday afternoon, the day of the Aegon Showcase, and half a chocolate muffin is stuffed into your face (technically now stuffed into your airway) as you come to the realization that your friend might secretly be trying to ruin your life.

“You really need to stop eating your food so fast,” Jiara murmurs, clapping you on the back with a little more force than necessary. “No one is going to take it from you. Smaller bites will go a long way.”

You gasp a breath when the chunk finally unsticks. Then, “You saw who in the audience lounge?”

Somi is nonplussed by your horror.

“I saw your brother out there trying to throw a skittle over a lighting fixture and still catch it in his mouth. When I was leaving with our food I think I heard a bunch of people cheer so I’d bet he managed to do it, which, when you think about how high these ceilings are, is actually pretty impressive—”

You fight the urge to grab her by her shoulders and shake her. “I’m not asking about the goddamn skittles!” you hiss. “Somi, you said you saw ‘them’ when you went out there. Them as in plural. Who is them?”

She makes a face like you should already know who. “Who else? Mark and the rest of his crew. And Donghyuck asked to bring a few more, so I guess those are who the other guys out there are. Why are you acting like you didn’t already know this? You were sitting right next to me when Donghyuck was practically begging to come!”

Your life flashes before your eyes.

Jeno’s car. The rain, pounding against the windows. Catching him looking at you in the mirror after Somi told them about the showcase, how it felt like the world outside faded away a little as some little message passed between you— when you felt like he was telling you something without saying a single word.

Then you remember it. In your distant, distant periphery, even though she’d been sitting not even a millimeter to your left when these alleged plans were discussed.

‘Yeah! I mean, I reserved like, a bajillion seats in advance because I knew I’d want to invite everyone who would even consider coming— I’ll definitely get the best row for you guys!’

“However,” she says after a beat, voice finally starting to show the tiniest bit of caution. You realize that your face has begun to contort on its own. “I am starting… to get vibes. That I maybe should have run that by you first? Would now be a bad time to let you know that I told them about the afterparty, too?”

Utter disbelief. The only reason you don’t leap on her once you fully comprehend what she’s said is because Gawon, who’d been watching this entire exchange with quiet brown eyes, puts a hand on your shoulder. She must be able to tell that you’re about to start freaking out, because her therapist-voice is fully activated when she clears her throat.

“Can I ask what's so surprising about this?” she asks carefully. “When we were telling Aegon about how many tickets we each wanted, you said you only needed one. For your brother, right?”

You thought of the ticket, the little envelope you’d held under your pillow for weeks as you fought with the idea of actually giving it to Mark. In the end, a few days ago, when you handed it to him and told him he could come watch you perform if he wanted to, he smiled so big that you felt bad for waiting so long in the first place. But you’d then quickly explained the caveat: that he was not to tell any of the others about it, because there was only one ticket and you didn’t want them hassling you about getting more. And Mark agreed.

Which is why you’d dared to assume that tonight would be safe.

“Yes,” you mutter. “The ticket was for him.”

“Which means you’re not surprised he’s here. So are his friends the problem?”

“The problem?”

You pause. That word makes it seem like their appearance here is actually detrimental to you in some way, like they’re just here to hassle or bully you or something, but that’s not really it at all. Your annoyance at them being here is rooted in the exact opposite. They’re not going to joke around and take it easy, or pat you on the back and tell you that you did well, like how they would if they’d come to watch one of their friends dance. They’re going to swarm you and coo and treat you like a five year old that just stumbled through their first ballet recital.

And as if that isn't bad enough, you realize with a start that you've actually got more to worry about than just being embarrassed by their innate need to baby you.

They, you remember yet again. Plural.

You quickly fix your doomsday-esque expression. "Uh. No, no problem, just... I'm over-exaggerating, forget it, Somi, when you said they, how many are we talking exactly?"

"Seven," she says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you fight to keep your shoulders from sagging. "The three from the car, your brother, and three others I don't really know as well, but who're all just as cute."

Seven. Which means Lee Jeno will be in the audience as well. You should've already known that, fully aware that wherever Mark goes Jeno will follow, but you'd been so startled by the change in attendance that you'd momentarily forgotten that you were pointedly avoiding one of that seven.

Great.

A click echoes over the announcement system. You recognize the voice that follows as the organizer of the showcase, the cheerful woman from the promotional video, happily informing all the performers to head to their greenrooms for final warm-ups before the show.

Well. Even if you wanted to mope for longer about your predicament, your mind switches lanes to the task at hand. Somi and Gawon both titter excitedly at the update, but make sure to quickly give their final reassurances about not worrying too much about the people in the audience and using that energy to give your all on stage. They’re right of course, and you probably would have come to this conclusion on your own once you swallowed your knee-jerk reaction to gripe about everything involving your brother and his friends, but you can’t say that their enthusiasm doesn't do the heavy lifting of bringing you back to earth.

You've got a competition to rock, after all. You could worry about everything else after.

Adrenaline made the hour-long showcase go by in what seemed like fifteen seconds.

Just like that, a short chapter of your life closed with a bang; seven minutes on the stage, deafening cheers, Jiara and Guyeon pulling everyone into one big sweaty hug as soon as you were all out of the spotlight— then you blink and you’re in Gawon’s car with the windows down blasting down Gangnam on the way to Somi’s house, the girls in the seats around you singing along to the radio at the top of their lungs. The sun is setting, you’re heading to your celebratory afterparty, and what should be a picture-perfect moment is completely ruined by the fact that your mind has been in shambles for the last hour and a half. Why?

Because as you inch closer and closer to Somi’s penthouse, all you can think about is the fact that Lee Jeno is sitting up there biding his time before he can stomp your heart into a million more microscopic pieces.

What you didn’t mention about the moments after the performance was that, after rushing through changing out of your performance outfit to find your friends and get the hell out of there, you stumbled out of the greenroom to find a person. A person who was frowning out in the corridor like some sort of mopey ghost, Jeno in all his annoyingly perfect glory, caught mid-pace.

Upon seeing him your body rebooted, a hundred different emotions flashing through your system from the shock of him appearing in front of you at that moment. The only thing you had time to notice before his words ruined the rest of your afternoon was how… fidgety he was; Running his hand through his hair, rocking from foot to foot, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest. You’d always taken note of how still Jeno could be sometimes, not moving an inch for seemingly hours at a time, which was the main reason his current inability to stay still even caught your eye— but it was quickly overtaken by the utter despair you felt not soon after he caught sight of you and opened his mouth.

“Can we talk?” he’d asked. And he’d sounded so unsure of himself that you almost instantly crumbled to the puppy-dog eyes, before reality grabbed you by the neck and you remembered that talking to him was actually the last thing you wanted to be doing right now.

“Busy,” you’d forced out. “My friends are waiting for me outside.”

But he must’ve seen this coming because he looked nonplussed as you took a step back, his own feet matching yours stride for stride, hands coming out almost as if to calm you like one might a spooked horse.

“It won’t take longer than a few minutes,” he tried, “Five minutes, just five. I just— I really, really want to clarify a few things from Saturday. What I said on the balcony.”

He said it like there was a chance you might’ve forgotten what happened, which almost made you laugh in disbelief. Like it was possible to forget that shitshow, your first love telling you that he was kind of interested in you once upon a time, but did nothing about it because your brother came first. Though, once you fully realized that he meant he wanted to talk about that right now, the moment lost its humor.

Now? Here? You glanced up and down the hallway. Your friends weren’t around, nor were his, but you were hardly alone.

“I wasn’t being entirely—”

“You're going to the party, aren’t you?” You cut Jeno off. Very unlike you when it came to him, and with the way he blinked you had a feeling he knew that too.

“The party?”

“Somi said she invited you guys.”

“I— I wasn't sure you wanted me to come.”

“Somi invited you, Lee. Is that any way to treat your hostess? We can—” You swallowed. “Come by, and we can find a minute to talk then, but for now I really—”

“Have to go,” he finished with a small wince. “Got it.”

And once he’d metaphorically let you go, taking a step back to slip his hands in his pockets, you’d all but run away; finding Guyeon and Gawon waiting for you like they said they’d be, ready to leave and head to Alice’s house to pretty-up for the party in her gigantic flat. You were trying your best to keep up the energy when you got into the car with them, laughing along to their jokes and dancing along to the music, but you couldn’t stop thinking of what type of curbstomp Jeno was about to release on the suffering remains of your sixteen year-old feelings.

Even up until the final touches of your make-up, you were commiserating. What the hell could he possibly want to clarify?

Was he going to tell you to stop being weird around him and the others, because your mood was fucking up their vibe? To stop avoiding him so obviously, that it was as noticeable for everyone as it felt for you, that it was making it awkward for him?

Or could he mean that he was going to tell you he’d… misspoken? That he’d never really liked you the way you liked him, and didn’t want you to misunderstand— by interested in you he meant in the way all guys were interested in all girls, some lowly, surface level thing that he quickly got over when he realized his friendship with your brother could be jeopardized by it?

The last thought had stung a little more than the others, and you’d accidentally frowned so hard about it that it creased your still-setting concealer and had to wipe it all off.

After angrily redoing your base you’d forced it from your mind and got dressed, stealing a simple henley dress from Gawon’s closet upon realizing that you were not in the mood for sexy-cute like Somi had said the dress code was. Instead you opted for ‘hey, you can see my legs and that's good enough,’ and huffed your old leather jacket on top of it; the latter was sure to piss her off but she still owed you from the Mosquito Boy Incident, so she could kick rocks about it for all you cared.

You had a feeling that no matter what you wore, tonight wasn’t going to be very sexy-cute at all.

The party is just getting into the swing of things when you make it upstairs. It’s like the explosion of a birthday surprise when you and the girls walk through the door. This party is technically a celebration, and you guess a lot of these people must’ve been in the Aegon audience without you knowing it, because you’re getting congratulations and kudos and pats on the back like you’ve just won an olympic medal.

But your pride is short lived, tainted by a bolt of nerves when you think you spot someone that looks like Donghyuck in your periphery. Where Hyuck is, Jeno will be.

It turns out to only be a very tall girl with a pixie cut who winks at you when you whirl your head to her, but the stress of it doesn't ebb away. God. Is the whole night going to be like this? Walking on pins and needles until he finds you?

“You know, new girl,” A voice starts at your side, startling you further, “Your ice breaker back at that my party could’ve been that you’re a kick-ass dancer, instead of that bullshit with the mosquitos.”

Wooyoung. Your friends are suddenly nowhere to be seen when your turn to him, clearly having fucked off into the mass the second alcohol became available, so it’s just the both of you hovering over by this snack table. Though this is only the second or third time you’ve interacted with him past a greeting (you see him sometimes on campus, and he always waves at you like you’re best friends when you pass each other), you’re actually rather soothed by his presence.

“You wanted to know juicy secrets, not secret hobbies. If you asked me for an ice breaker and I told you I could dance, you would’ve kicked me out of that house.”

He laughs, a snickering sound, before eyeing two jello-shots a girl walks by with in her hands.

“Do a shot with me?” he pouts. “My friends are running late and I’m still painfully sober.”

A shot?

...Hm. A shot. Inebriation. You’re not one to like straight liquor because the burn in your throat is often more than you think the gag is worth. But if you’re looking to relax sooner rather than later… the pain might not be without its merit.

Liquid courage. Something you could definitely use right now, as skittish as you’re being. Maybe he’s onto something.

“Just one?” you pique, turning to survey the options. “Thought you were more hardcore than that, VP.”

One jello-shot quickly turns into four with Wooyoung involved, and your mouth is sweet with the taste of artificial dye by the time you actually spot Donghyuck, over by Somi’s balcony doors chatting up some pretty girl you recognize from your physical education class. The volleyball player. Xiaoting or something close, and you almost snort at the sight because she seems way out of his league. But he has a way with words that you guess you could be attractive when he wields it with flirtation in mind, instead of the intent to piss off like he always does with you.

The Smirnoff burning in your stomach must already be settling in because you only mildly bristle when you see him. Like you thought earlier: Hyuck is here, which means Jeno is here. And… and the Smirnoff must’ve already hit your brain, actually, because all of a sudden you’re feeling agitated and confrontational.

You don’t want to spend all night worrying about when he’s going to find you and drop the bomb. So what if he doesn’t like you! So what if he probably wants to forget the moment that happened out on that balcony never occurred at all? You lived your life without yearning over Jeno for years before you moved back here, so it won’t even be that hard to go cold-turkey when he says what he needs to and inevitably squashes the remainder of your heart in his fist. It’s fine. You’ll live.

You just need to rip it off like a bandaid first. And to do that?

“Hey, Woo, I think I need to go and look for somebody. You’re still down for that dance battle later?”

“I don’t play around with my challenges,” he says, grinning much too wide, “I’ll find you later, and then it’s on. Knock em’ dead, new girl.”

As bold as you suddenly are, you actually don’t want to go and interrupt whatever Donghyuck has going on just to ask him where Jeno is. So you’re on your own for a little, scanning the walls for him and the stupid clavicles poking out of his button-up, hair all windswept and eyes so dark. It’s nearly a minute of searching before you see something familiar— but it’s not exactly what you’re looking for.

Close enough, though.

It seems like Na Jaemin has actually spotted you first, since he’s already heading towards you when you spot his head of pink darting through the crowd. You don’t fuss when he musses your hair and gasps over the competition, applauding you in that sickeningly earnest way he always has, since you’re used to his preening and compliments. Not to say you’re not appreciative. It always makes your face hot when he coos over you like this. But you’ve got a mission in mind, and fretting at him over the pouting and cheek-squeezing will get you nowhere.

“Yes, thank you, I did hear you cheering over everyone else at the end, no I wasn’t hiding my swag from you on purpose, thank you, you can stop pretending to cry now. Where is Jeno?”

The idea of you looking for Lee Jeno on purpose must startle him, because there’s a second after his clear offense at you brushing him off where he registers what you’re asking for and actually looks a little concerned. “Jeno? No-Jam? Why? Did he say something to you?”

“What? No, I just need to talk to him about something. Thought he’d be hanging around you.”

Imperceptibly, Jaemin lightens.

“Oh. He’s downstairs hefting handles out of Somi’s car, because blondie forgot half the drinks in her trunk. He got volunteered by Chenle as Mr. Muscles and left with her like five minutes ago, so he should be back any minute.”

Damn it. Forlornly, you glance at the door, but there's nothing. No movement. Nada. There goes all your building bravado.

“But before he returns, young lady, should we talk about how that red tinge to your lips better be from the non-alcoholic jello-shots?”

Ah. Whoops. Not only no movement, but now you’ve gotten yourself trapped in the sights of Na Jaemin, who likes to pretend to be staunch on things like laws and teenage innocence and waiting to do things until the government says you’re allowed to. You constantly forget that you’re not yet the drinking age, because no college student handing out drinks at a party ever gives a fuck about the fact that you’re legally not quite legal yet. No other college student besides the one standing in front of you.

“You’ll stunt your growth if you drink before you’re supposed to!”

To this you glance at the cup he’s holding, clearly half full of something, and nearly go to laugh and ask him what his excuse is since he’s barely 21 himself, but then you think of something funnier. Without really thinking about it you snatch the cup from his hand and hork it down. Your eyes are locked with his the entire time so you get to see his surprise grow into shock, then expand into disbelief as you chug, and chug, and chug.

There’s a lot of… some peach flavored crap in here, burning like murder all the way down, to the point that you’re more bewildered than smug when the cup is finally drained because, “Fuck, Na, what is that shit? Are you trying to black out?”

“Language!” he hisses, genuinely startled for the first time you’ve seen in a long time, which makes you laugh, “And of course not because that wasn’t mine, you little brat! I was holding that for Somi!"

“Oh,” you reply, only mildly shifted by this news. Sorry, Som. Now you know it must be peach Schnapps. She loves Schnapps. “What, so you’re not drinking tonight at all? Are you DD?”

“No! I’m not drinking, and I’m offended that you don’t already know I hate the taste of alcohol. Mark, who may I remind you is in this room and would’ve just shit himself if he’d seen what you just did, is playing designated driver tonight! He’s…”

And as he glances towards the kitchen you follow his gaze. You’re expecting to see your brother, most likely laughing over something his friends are saying, maybe even trying to dance-battle someone if he's having a particularly good time. Instead you see your brother chatting up Jeon Soyeon.

Jeon… Soyeon. Nabi Bar, Jeon Soyeon. Who you haven’t spoken to or even seen since that awful night in Gangnam.

And you nearly gasp in terror at the sight.

Jaemin doesn't finish his sentence, and you dart your eyes to him when you realize this. He doesn’t look very pleased by what he’s seeing either, though you’re guessing for an entirely different reason than the one that’s just made you go cold.

“What?” you ask a little too quickly. The front door opens, which should be your cue to look for who’s just come in, but you can’t tear your eyes from the sight of Soyeon and Mark. What the fuck? What the fuck? “Do they know each other?”

“Know each other?” Jaemin scoffs. “Hard to quantify.”

It would be very, very bad for you if they knew each other. Very bad. If not already clear, Mark still had no clue you weren’t where you said you were on the night of Nabi Bar. If she happened to mention your involvement in that shity, shitty idea, you had no doubt that Mark would go all holier-than-thou on you in front of all these people, and that you’d probably have to dive off of the balcony to escape the reaming.

He doesn’t look particularly comfortable, near pressed up against kitchen island because Soyeon is so close to him, hand rubbing at the back of his neck in that way you’re well aware means he’s getting flustered; but you see him laugh at something she says in the next second, and it doesn’t seem like his fake laugh. Mark’s fake laugh is terrible, and even from a distance you can spot it like the flashing lights on an ambulance, a beacon of distress just the same. So he’s laughing for real, at something… Soyeon is saying?

But you hardly recall her being very funny.

“What does that mean, hard to quantify? Do they have history?”

“Something like that,” he murmurs. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Anyway, I think Jeno is—”

“You never look at anyone with any kind of attitude, and just now you rolled your eyes at her.”

“I didn’t roll my eyes. I blinked. For a long time. Something in my eye. Dusty in here.”

“Somi has this place deep cleaned twice a week.”

He stares at you like he’s begging you to drop it. You stare back, unwilling. “You know, Na, the longer you stall, the more time that all this illegal alcohol in my blood has to make me more bold and reckless and unruly. If I don’t get an answer from you I might just go over there and ask her myself. How do they know each other?”

You’re bluffing, of course— there’s no way you’re about to go over there just to see what they’re talking about when you could safely squeeze that information out of Jaemin instead. In reality, you were only pressing because you wanted to know if they were close enough for Soyeon to know you and Mark were related. If not? Then perfect! You’d forget it all and be on your merry way, reverting back to your original plan of finding Jeno, because there’d be no chance Soyeon could spill the beans.

But if Soyeon does know? You might have to leave this party a little earlier than scheduled.

“You want the whole, grown-up truth?” Jaemin finally relents.

“Might I remind you for the hundredth time that I’m only a year younger than you?”

“A year and a half,” he acquiesces with a sigh, “And Jeon Soyeon may or may not have slept with your brother to get him to do their midterm project last year.”

It comes out like he’s reading the headline from a newspaper and you made the mistake of swallowing right before he opens his mouth, choking violently on your own spit. He pats you on the back as you hack and cough before continuing.

“None of us are really sure about exactly what really happened because Mark kind of shut down after, wouldn’t tell us anything. But it was pretty clear he liked her before. She’s kinda his type, you know?”

Edgy, pretty, and fucking evil, yeah, after having to chase a few of them away in high school you’re well aware of his type! This was not what you wanted to know about when you asked if they were close! What the hell?

“He told us they’d gone all the way right before she asked him to do their entire music production project because she was too busy caring for her sick little sister. He, being the bleeding heart he is, pretty much refused to listen to us about how convenient the timing was; he even got mad when Chenle did some sleuthing and found out that Soyeon’s parents facebook, which was filled to the brim of photos of their family, didn’t have any trace of another kid in their midst besides her. Wouldn’t believe us until after the project was turned in, when he tried to meet up with her for weeks and she ghosted him every time.”

He frowns. “At the end of it, he wasn’t… It wasn’t good. He was pretty crushed.”

Now you regret chugging his drink for fun. Even before it you’d been feeling further than chill, pleasant and buzzing from your shots, well prepared for whatever hell was to arise with Jeno. Now you felt loose; too loose, fingertips tingling at your sides because of this news, heart pounding in your chest, body so warm from the alcohol that you felt like Jaemin would hiss if he’d laid a finger on your skin.

To play games with you, that’s one thing. But Soyeon has laid her hands on your brother?

“And, knowing all of that,” you say slowly, clearly, “You’re still letting him sit there and talk to her?”

“I want to kick her away,” Jaemin says flatly. “I’d be lying if I said I trust that girl as far as I can throw her. But it’s not really up to us to get involved.”

“Who is us?”

“His friends? I mean he was pretty clear when it happened that he did not want to talk about it—”

You bark a laugh, but there’s no humor to it at all. “So he can pout and gripe about the sanctity of discussing your problems with people, the embarrassing, the horrifying, but when it comes to him he gets to keep secrets? Forget how hypocritical that is, you guys are listening?”

Jaemin, finally, seems to catch the heat in your words. “Uh. He told… I mean, before you get all up in arms, she may be over there apologizing for all we know. Maybe she’s repenting.”

You both stare at her as she tips her head back in laughter, the salacious flirty kind where you’re more focused on being attractive than actually enjoying the joke, before she puts her hand on his chest in a, ‘Wow, you’re so funny, take me now,’ kind of way, leaning in to say something to him that she clearly doesn’t want anyone else to hear. Every hair on your body stands up when Mark doesn’t push her away.

He’s not seriously buying her shit again, is he?

“Jaemin, are you willing to bet your life on that?”

“What?”

“Everything you just said about Soyeon. You know that for fact?”

“Well, no, Mark didn’t actually tell us about it so I can never be sure, but… but with what we could gather, it was pretty cut and dry. Chenle actually also found out she had a boyfriend at the same time she did all that stuff with Mark. We just couldn’t bear to tell him that after the fact, so we never… Hey, where—”

You’re sober enough to make it through the throng of people without stumbling, but not sober enough to fully anticipate what you’re really about to do. The goal is just to separate them, somehow, to get that harlot away from your brother, and then you’ll go and deal with Jeno. If people greet you as you pass you don’t hear or see it; all you can grasp is her, touching him, laughing with him, cheating, lying, people-using—

“Mark,” you nearly hiss, “I need to talk to you. Now.”

Mark jumps a foot in the air when you grab him but Soyeon, for some reason, doesn’t look surprised to see you in the slightest. She does, however, raise a sharp blonde eyebrow at your tone.

“What,” Mark splutters, “Right now?”

“Yeah,” Soyeon sighs, continuing to trail her eyes up and down Mark’s face instead of looking at you, “The grown-ups are talking, sweetheart. Can’t you give us a second?”

Mark turns back to the sensual softness of her voice like a moth to a flame, and you want to smack him. “No. Not a second now, not a second later, not a second tomorrow or forever. Now, Mark.”

And that was where you made the mistake that turned this whole night sour. Only when Soyeon realizes it’s her you have a problem with, catching on from the agitation in your tone that you’re not just here to bother Mark for fun, does she slide her unreadable gaze to you.

“You know I haven’t seen you in a while, Little Lee.”

“For the better,” you mutter. “Seriously—”

“I was so surprised when Yuqi told me you two were related.”

She’s talking to Mark but looking at you, eyes squinted a little, like someone analyzing a germ under a microscope. So she does know. Great. “I couldn’t believe that this girl was the same little star you used to tell me about when I met her. She’s grown up a lot, you know? Doesn’t take after you at all, Markie.”

“Soyeon,” you say again, “Let him go.”

“Why? So you can keep throwing your tantrum? Every time you open your mouth it gets harder and harder to see the resemblance. When you’re so…”

She doesn’t need to say it, and it’s honestly probably better that she didn’t, because you would’ve leapt at her if she’d gone as far as she’d been intending to dig with that comment. You’re aware you don’t resemble Mark, physically or otherwise— in accomplishment, in talent, in patience, in perfect unmarred reputation. You’re well fucking aware.

“Soyeon,” Mark finally says, thankfully lurching a little in your direction like her evil witch's spell is finally wearing off, “I don’t think there’s any need for that, what the hell is going on? Do you two know each other?”

Soyeon opens her eyes comically wide. “You don’t know?”

And you feel Mark stop. What the hell are you doing, you want to scream. Why are you even pausing for this bullshit? Come on! But he doesn’t. He stands there and he stares at her, as if searching her face for any sign of truth, and Soyeon takes this as her cue.

“Little star is a big girl now! Her own fake ID, clinging along with her baby bottle to any club the adults want to go to, even catching her own ride home with any wasted guy that smiles in her direction! Don’t you live together? What a handful she must be if she can sneak out under your nose, Markie.”

The blood rushing in your ears makes it hard to tell if it’s only you that’s losing your hearing or if the rest of the people hanging around in the kitchen really have quieted to watch the rising altercation, but you don’t dare move your eyes from the girl to check. The baby bottle comment, outing your fake ID, all of that is rage inducing on its own— but it’s a cold, stomach twisting madness that grabs you when you latch on to the last part of what she’s just said. Catching your own ride home?

Was she referring to Yoobin?

Your fingers unfurl from Mark’s jacket.

“What do you mean, catch my own ride?”

Soyeon laughs. Under normal circumstances, it would be a pretty sound. “Did you think we didn’t see you leave? Blowing up our phones like there was some big emergency— We sent that guy out there to keep you the company you wanted so much, God, we got tired of babysitting you. You stopped calling and neither of you came back inside. What, cause your brother is here you’re going to try and soften it up now, huh? Tell us all you didn’t go home with that drunkard, when you love to tell people you’re no stranger to a bar?”

Yoobin, who grabbed you, touched you, tried to drive you home in his wasted state with clear intentions on what he wanted in return.

Yoobin, who Soyeon and Yuqi and their friends had sent, knowing you were panicked, knowing he made you uncomfortable, knowing you were looking for them.

Soyeon who stopped hearing from you and laughed it off. Soyeon who stopped hearing from you for days and didn’t bat an eye, knowing what she’d left you alone with.

Soyeon, who’s straight, pretty nose cracks under your fist in the same way Yoobin’s did, except this time you don’t run away when she screams and collapses and you realize what you’ve done. Except this time you hit her again— or you try to at least, lunging for her with your eyes ablaze, unsure what you’ll do when you get there but 100% sure it’ll hurt worse than a bloody fucking nose— but don’t quite get there, because someone has lifted you off the ground, two iron-bar arms wrapped like vices around your ribs, the worlds tightest back hug.

In your right mind you might’ve placed the sandalwood and the bergamot, or recognized the rolled up sleeves of his oversized button up, ivory and forest green, but as it stood—

As it stood, as you shouted and thrashed and fought, you only made out one thing.

Mark Lee, your own brother, helping Jeon Soyeon to her feet, two hands firm on her arms to hold her up; his surprised voice the last thing you hear before Lee Jeno hauls you out of that house.

“Wow, Soyeon. Is that true?”

(”Rockstar is going to wallop that girl,” Donghyuck mutters, staring at you like they all are from behind the pillar separating the kitchen from the living room, alerted to the worsening confrontation by a sheepish Jaemin.

“No she won’t," Jaemin tries, clearly feeling guilty, "She knows better than that.”

“She’s gone still. And I’ve never, ever seen her eyes that wide before.”

“That’s control. It’s restraint. She’s not going to hit her.”

Renjun, then, “If you really believe that then why do you look so nervous?”

“Her fist is balled up,” Jisung comments quietly.

“It’s restraint!”

“You weren’t there the day that she knocked the socks off of Park Gyubin, right? When he tried lifting her friend’s skirt up in the cafeteria?”

“She…” Jaemin glances at Donghyuck, “She’s tried to fight men before?”

“Tried to? I thought she was going to kill him. Y/N hit him so hard he had to get his retainer refitted. She’s got a right hook like her brothers. I bruise when she hits me, you know.”

Renjun again, “Why do you sound so proud of that?”

“She… Well, no, look, look! She let go of Mark. They have to be deescalating, she—”

“Does deescalating usually involve getting closer to the object of your anger?” Jisung asks.

“She—”

“Here it comes,” Chenle announces excitedly.

And then Jeno is across the room.)

Jeno realizes before you do that you’re not going back home tonight.

His apartment looks the same. Obviously. It’s only been three weeks since you were last here. Like before, Jeno doesn’t bother with the lights, kicking his shoes off in the entryway the same way, except this time you have two shoes of your own to place next to them instead of the sad and lonely single. Three weeks ago, but it feels like it’s only been a day or two since you did this whole song and dance; following him to the bathroom, sitting on the counter as he stoops under to rummage through his first-aid bin, gritting your teeth when he rubs your knuckles with the antiseptic, smiling weakly when he apologizes for the sting.

You’d cried in his car.

When Jeno carried you out of Somi’s apartment you thought the stinging in your eyes was just discombobulated rage. But when he set you down on your feet in the elevator and you began to come down from the adrenaline high, the burning just intensified as you understood what just happened. You’d only been able to keep the tears at bay until he told you to put your seatbelt on in his passenger seat and it all became too real.

Though you’re not sober enough right now for it to feel like a problem yet, you know you’ll want to kill yourself tomorrow for allowing yourself to devolve in front of him like that no matter the circumstance. In the moment, you weren’t even entirely sure what you were crying about. Was it the craze of fury wearing off after punching Soyeon, and the jitters it left behind? Or the fact that even when Jeno was tugging you towards the elevator up there, you’d stood and waited for Mark to follow for nearly an entire minute, just for him to never come out?

You’d like to chalk it up to adrenaline and inebriation, but deep down you knew exactly what it was that had your eyes brimming with those tears.

He’d chosen Soyeon. The girl who’d lied to him, cheated with him, fucked him over for a grade and left you for dead on the streets of Gangnam, and he’d stayed in that house with her instead of coming out to check on you. And you weren’t really one to catastrophize, but how couldn’t that signal the definitive end of Mark putting up with your shit? The nail in the coffin of his patience with you?

You knew things had been rough lately with you moving in, the thread of butting heads over little things like curfews and the people you hung out with, but you hadn’t thought your relationship had deteriorated to the point that he’d ever… that he’d ever choose someone else. You’re his sister. No matter how mad he is, he’s supposed to choose you.

But he didn't. And in Lee Jeno’s passenger seat, like a giant baby, you cried about it.

In proper Y/N fashion the only thing that had chuffed you into sucking it all up and swallowing it into the depths of your soul never to be seen again, was Jeno’s building appearing on the horizon. The threat of him asking you if you’re alright and actually having to confront those feelings was terrifying enough to jar you out of your self pity.

But he hadn’t asked you about your red eyes. He hadn’t said anything, actually. He just tugged you out of the car and into the elevator. Herded you into his apartment. And tipped his head towards his bathroom just like before, except this time he was smiling. In the soft, polite kind of way that let you know he was well aware of what just transpired in his car, but was simply... letting it be.

(And you always knew Jeno was rather observant. But man, the thought behind that smile could’ve made you burst into tears all over again.)

On the counter, holding out your hand for the steps that would never come, you blinked back to the present when Jeno stopped at the healing salve. You’d been waiting for him to bust out the gauze again, already lamenting the next week of your life with the itchy fabric tight around your wrist, but all Jeno does is raise an eyebrow at you when you don’t hop off of the sink after he puts the kit away.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks.

You blink down at your hand, shiny with the balm, and then back up at him. “The rest of it.”

“The wrap? I didn’t think you needed it.”

“But that’s what you did last time I was here.”

“Because the last time you were here you didn’t know how to punch someone properly. It looked like you got her the right way this time. When I was tugging at that wrist in the elevator just now you hardly seemed to notice, when you could barely close your fist a few weeks ago.”

…Oh. Only as he mentions it do you roll your hand around in its socket, flexing your fingers under the bathroom light. Your knuckles look like shit, the newly forming bruises and angry skin, but it doesn’t actually ache like it did that night with Yoobin.

Well you’ll be damned. So straightening your wrist really does work.

“Oh,” you mumble. “I guess I don’t. Wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“Of course you weren’t. Probably thinking about what you wanted to eat, right?”

“What I— What?”

What you wanted to eat? When did you discuss that you were hungry?

“Heard your stomach grumbling in the car, so I’m assuming you haven’t eaten since before the competition. There’s a pizza place down the street that I think you’d like, a jajangmyeon shop too, but their delivery takes ages. It’s up to you.”

You stare at him, clearly not following. Jeno is relaying this to you like tonight was planned, as if it was always in the cards for you to be hanging out at his place tonight like a couple of pals, leaning against the door with his arms crossed, the perfect picture of normalcy. He thinks you’re going to be here long enough to eat? He’s not planning to have you shipped out of here in the next half hour?

But then you realize that there isn’t really another place for you to be shipped to. Mark’s apartment is… not really an option. The idea of going back there tonight almost makes your stomach roll, actually.

But if you don’t go back, that doesn’t leave much in the realm of locations to hide out at. Somi’s brother is coming home tonight, she’d squealed as much this morning, and considering how rare it is that he’s not busy in other countries you abhor the idea of intruding on their reunification. You don’t have many other friends here that you’re close enough with to just show up at their place at 10PM unannounced, not that you’d want to given that your little spat with Soyeon is probably all over everyones instagram stories right now, and is surely the only thing they’ll want to talk about.

You don’t have very many options right now. And Jeno probably knew that from the moment he decided to bring you here.

“Thinking pretty hard over there,” Jeno hums, “for what is supposed to be a two choice question. Unless you don’t want either?”

“Pizza is… fine.”

“Just fine, or actually good? I can check to see if there’s any—”

“It’s good, Lee.”

He smiles like he’s got you in the bag, and then stands up straight. “I’ll order it then.”

You nod emptily and make moves to follow him out of the bathroom, right on his tail, which is why you nearly crash into him when he whirls back around to stop you. “Oh. Almost forgot.”

“What? Forgot what?"

But you only grow more confused when Jeno speeds off towards his room without replying. There’s a creak and a shuffle, doors opening and closing before Jeno returns with a bundle of fabric bunched up in his arms.

“Can’t imagine it’ll be very comfortable to hang out in that dress all night.”

He holds out the mass; what appears to be a heather gray hoodie and black sweatpants that, even bunched up like this, still look miles too long for you. He sees you eyeing it and you fear he’s going to do something awful, like politely offer to go and get you something else as if he hasn’t already done a hundred other things for you tonight, so you quickly oblige. Once you relieve him of the pile he laughs, tells you he’s going to put the order in for the pizza, and closes the door on the way out.

You stand there unmoving for much too long, the heap of fabric clutched to your chest.

There’s so much to unpack. Being here again. The fact that he was supposed to break your heart today instead of doing all of... this. How casual he’s being about it all. The brother-slash-bestfriend shaped elephant in the room. The clothes.

But, for the sake of not collapsing under the weight of all of that turmoil, you decide to just focus on the latter; the most immediate and least heart wrenching of the bunch. His clothes. You’re going to wear his clothes.

Yet another of your old dreams coming to fruition in this apartment. Lucky you.

Jeno is laying across the long part of the couch when you exit the bathroom, footsteps making no noise because you’re padding along on top of the ankle hems. He’s dressed differently too; gone is the jeans and the ivory button up, in its place a black long sleeve and navy blue sweatpants just like yours, except his actually fit. He’s texting furiously on his phone when you round the corner, eyebrows furrowed with something like irritation before he sees your looming figure in the corner of his eye and looks up.

"I put an X-Men movie into the DVD player," he announces, squinting back down to his screen, "Couldn't think of a better time than now to finally get into it, since you'll be here to explain all the things I don't understand..."

But he trails off as he stares at his phone, eyebrows furrowing at something before he frowns and stands up. The look is gone when you shuffle towards the couch and he looks up again, smiling at you like you like nothing is wrong, before he says, "I need to make a call though. Start the movie, yeah? I'll be back before things get interesting."

You stare at him. Probably shouldn't miss the opening scene if you really want to 'get into it', you nearly say. But you've been on this earth for long enough to recognize when someone wants a little privacy.

You want to ask if it's Mark. If he's the one Jeno had been messaging back so agitatedly just now. But the fear of it not being him, Jeno instead just trying to sort something out with like, a truant project partner or something, makes you stuff it down again. It'll just make you look even more pitiful.

"Sure. Most of the intro is fan service anyway."

He opens his mouth like he's about to say something else but then his phone starts to ring and he only smiles tightly at you instead. Then he's gone down the corridor, into his bedroom, and when the ringtone finally stops you can barely hear his voice much less make out what he's saying. Hm.

A different day and you might've snuck off after him to eavesdrop just to see for yourself. But after tonight?

You simply watch him go, and then tumble onto his couch with the exhaustion of someone who's just run up and down the building a dozen times.

You don't even have the strength to reach over for the TV remote; you just lay there and revel in the softness of the cushions, and at how tired you suddenly feel. Rehearsal all morning, giving it your all on stage, the energy-leeching atmosphere of a house party, the alcohol sagging through your veins. Not to mention the emotional confusion. Crying always takes it out of you.

So it's no wonder that you forgo turning the movie on to just take a moment to breathe in the pleasantly dark living room, closing your eyes for what you intended to be a brief second, just to gather the last bits of your patience and sanity for the night ahead... only to fall victim to what happens to most people when they say they're just resting their eyes.

You fall asleep.

At least for a little while, you do. A brief, dreamless, blissful unconsciousness.

It’s so blissful in fact, that when you’re startled back to life by a knock at the front door a few minutes later— blinking the haze out of your eyes and seeing Jeno’s ceiling instead of your own, understanding with a sinking hopelessness that you’re not waking from a nightmare, that all of tonight has really happened— the dread is almost crushing when it all comes back.

But there isn't even any time to mourn. Because you realize that if someone's just knocked on the door, like the good homeowner he is, Jeno will be out here any second now to open it. He'll come out here and he'll see you and you'll be sucked right back into that nightmare, pretending like everything is fine when you both know that tonight was supposed to go so, so differently. Sitting next to each other and eating next to each other and attempting small talk for the sake of keeping things civil until you can escape this place in ten hours.

The idea almost gives you hives. You can't do it. You can't. There has to be another way. What if you make something up? A sore throat? A sudden headache?

But there's no time to think of anything fancy because in the next second Jeno's bedroom door clicks open down the hall, and panic flies up in your throat.

So you do the only think you can fathom. Before he can come around the corner and see you freaking out, you fling yourself back over and pretend to still be dead asleep.

As foolish as you immediately feel, it must work at least a little bit; you hear him come into the living room, hesitate, and then continue on past the couch on lighter steps as if worried about making too much noise. You even steady your breathing when he’s opening the door for the pizza guy— smooth inhale, smooth exhale, spaced just far enough to replicate what someone sounds like when they’ve been out for a while.

Shit. Will this actually work?

When he closes the door and the room falls to silence your heart picks up a little bit. What is he doing? Is he staring at you, trying to see if you’re faking?

Is he wondering if he should wake you up to eat? Oh, God! What if—

“Are you up?” he whispers. And you almost choke trying to swallow down the instinctual response that rises in your throat.

With surprisingly great effort, you do nothing. Say nothing. You don’t even stir. You just pray to whatever God is out there that Jeno will take the hint, eat his pizza at the kitchen island, leave you out here and go to bed. You get excited when you hear his steps again and think he’s going to pass the couch straight, but of course a second later you feel the couch dip somewhere off behind your back and you nearly curse.

“Guess not,” Jeno mumbles. "I forgot that you knock out so easily."

A few more seconds of what feels like an endless quiet, only his shuffling making sound; through your squeezed-shut eyes you see the light of the TV flicker like he’s just changed the channel, and with it you hear what must be the intro to a gameshow or something— excited chatter, ringing bells, audience cheers. But the volume is turned down so low that it feels like the show is playing in another room. Is he keeping the volume low because of you?

Is he… going to stay out here?

“So you won’t mind if I think out loud,” he says suddenly, and your eyes nearly fly open in surprise. What?

But he sounds serious. “Like a test run, almost. For what I wanted to talk about earlier at Aegon. Since I still don’t really know what the hell I’m going to say even after losing sleep over it all week, and I know you’ll try to stop me if you’re awake. I should just try it now, right?”

Try it... now?

Your fake deep-breathing almost hitches in panic when you realize what he’s getting at. Sweet God, please, no. What he wanted to talk about earlier? He wants to get into that now?

“Jaemin scolded me for springing it on you like that after your showcase, by the way. I didn’t realize that I might’ve cornered you until later and I’m sorry about that. I just really, really wanted to talk. Because I didn’t before, and everything got all…” he sighs, heavily. “I’m thankful that you told me to get lost earlier, because I think I can explain it better, like this. I can start from the beginning. I know how thorough you are about things like this.”

You hear the beep of a digital watch somewhere in his house as your face scrunches up in confusion. It's officially midnight, if the watch is making noise to denote the hour, but the realization of the time only comes second to the slow bewilderment slipping through your gloom.

From the beginning? The beginning of what? What the hell does any of that have to do with firmly rejecting you?

“Before we met, because of the way Mark talked about you, I had this idea in my head that you’d be some sort of perfect, flawless angel. That you’d be a little version of him; neat and proper and just a little bit naive, too nice for your own good. A rule follower.”

He laughs at this, a genuine laugh at the memory, and your frown deepens in embarrassment. “Then I actually laid my own eyes on you for the first time, and I realized I couldn’t have been more off.”

You remember it clearly, the first time you’d made a fool out of yourself in front of him and the rest of Mark’s friends. Fourteen years old, running inside the house after walking home from class with your own crew; you’d completely forgotten that you were supposed to bring your skateboard and a change of clothes to school because you all planned to ride around the park that day, the first warm afternoon after a mushy spring, and they said if you didn’t come back out in sixty seconds or less they’d leave you in the dust. So you stormed into the house, past the living room with all of them in it without even a glance or greeting since you hadn’t realized it wasn’t just your brother in there, hurled off your uniform in favor of your outfit staples at the time— an oversized tee that you stole from Mark, hand-me-down cargo shorts that also came from your brother’s closet, and your most cherished possessions: a Yankees baseball cap and your beat-up blue Nikes.

But you couldn’t find your skateboard and the clock was running out, so you howled down the staircase, “If you moved my skateboard again from where I put it I’m going to kill you in your sleep!” only for Mark to shout back up, “It’s a tripping hazard! It’s in the hallway closet! And aren’t you grounded right now? Where are you even going? Does mom know?”

You hadn’t replied. Just snatched the board from where he said he’d stashed it, barreled back down the stairs, and was fully preparing to toss your brother some half-assed explanation, but then you’d seen him. Seen them. Mark’s new school friends, all lounging on your living room couch, staring at you as if you’d come into the room with a bomb. Lee Jeno (who’s name you’d only later find out) appeared the most stunned by your tornado-like appearance.

You could only imagine what they were seeing. Some rowdy tomboy, technically on house arrest but running out to wreak havoc on the town regardless, threatening to kill people in their sleep for tidying up. Exaggerated, obviously, but you remember being mortified halfway to Sunday by how cute they all were and that this was their first introduction to you— and in that mortification, sprinting out of the house without telling your brother anything at all.

You’d gotten a good scolding for that later.

“And it’s going to sound kind of stupid,” Jeno continues, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think you heard the smile in his voice, “But because of that, I got this idea in my head that Mark must’ve only been seeing you through those rose-tinted glasses. The type every older brother has for every younger sister, the ones that make everything they do look cute and miraculous and perfect even if they’re clearly evil to everyone else. Not saying I thought you were secretly some sort of demon or anything either, ‘cause I know you’d roll your eyes at me right now if you could. Just that the girl I saw that day was nowhere near the delicate little thing he’d described. And I got... curious. I started wondering what you were actually like.”

Your face is getting hot again. You’ve never, ever heard him speak this much in one sitting, and the idea of him ever paying this much attention to you is mind boggling. But you don’t let yourself lean into whatever feeling of hope is whistling through your head.

So what if he made a game out of trying to separate your real traits from the things Mark got wrong about you six years ago? Sometimes you liked to make up season-long dramas about strangers you saw on campus. It doesn’t mean anything now.

You want to scrunch into a ball. You aren’t sure how much more of this monologue you can handle, even despite the consequences of rolling over and breaking the facade just to get him to stop. The heat in your face is spreading to your neck, your stomach, every inch of your skin, it’s making your stomach churn with discomfort.

“But then the next year you came to our school,” Jeno says with finality, like this is supposed to be some important distinction. “And it stopped being as casual of an interest. The months went by and at some point I stopped looking for you just to see if you were doing something Mark didn’t know about, and started looking for you just because I wanted to know what you were doing. We’d come over for movie night and while Hyuck and Jae argued for hours about what they did and didn’t want to watch, I’d be wondering if I’d get to see you. You probably won’t remember this, but one of those nights I even ordered an extra curry bowl just so I’d have an excuse to knock on your door to tell you about it. And I thought that was a normal thing to do.”

Jesus Christ. Do you remember? Of course you remember! You’d been reading at your desk with your headphones in, which meant Jeno had to come all the way into your room to get your attention— tapping the side of your earbud with two gentle fingers, laughing all crescent-eyed at you when you yelped in surprise. The sight of him in your room for the first time was like a grenade going off in your tweenaged mind; you’d had to calm down for nearly an entire minute before going downstairs to get your food.

“I thought it was just Mark rubbing off on me. He cared so much about you that I thought my sudden interest was simply overprotection by relation— that he was the reason why I couldn’t stop looking for you. ‘Cause in my mind it couldn't be anything else but brotherly. Mark was pretty clear about what he thought of the people that liked you so I knew it couldn’t be that; I wasn’t stupid enough to let myself be interested in you like that. Right?”

He laughs again, but it doesn’t sound nearly as sweet this time. “I’m rambling, huh?”

Yes, you are. You are.

“I’ll cut to the ending then,” he replies like he’s read your mind. “I realized I did in fact ‘like you like that’, at our graduation.”

And your eyes pop open. It’s completely involuntary, and if you’d been facing him you would have been screwed. But you’re still looking deep into the cushions of the black couch; wide eyes staring into a deep, dark, nothing.

“I hid behind that brotherly excuse for three years. My eyes followed you in the hallway because I wanted to make sure you were okay like Mark would’ve wanted me to. I offered to drive you home from school when he was busy because that’s what Mark would’ve asked me to do anyway. Everything I wanted to do I told myself I was doing because I was just a good friend. You know?” A beat passes before he hums to himself. “But I guess you don’t, actually. Because you liked me authentically, like you do with everything. The night of our graduation, the backyard barbecue your parents threw for us. You remember that, right?”

Duh. You’d bawled your eyes out on the front porch halfway through because only then did it fully sink in that they’d all be leaving you behind, these losers you swore you didn’t even like, before wiping your face and moodily rejoining the celebration.

“Jaemin and Donghyuck were having fun like it was their last day on earth. Even Mark didn’t seem too worried about the fact that we’d be leaving our whole lives behind in a few weeks when we drove off to SNU. I asked him if he was going to miss anything and he listed a dozen things, the friends of ours that were going to different colleges, his parents cooking, his backyard, his bedroom, his electric keyboard. And I remember feeling frozen when he didn’t mention you. In hindsight I know that it was probably because he’d still be coming back home every break, and you had a whole year of high school to finish so it wasn’t like you were going anywhere, but at the moment I felt like someone just yanked the blanket off of me. Three years of pretending and it only took one conversation for it to smash through all of that and hit me like a truck. If Mark isn’t worried about it, why the hell has the idea of leaving you here been haunting me for the last week and a half?”

Oh.

“It was then, I think. That I went, ‘Ah. So this hasn’t all been because of Mark, then,’ and everything I’d ever done under the guise of brotherly obligation popped into context all at once. And as if it wasn’t enough being in my own head, I was still in the middle of talking to Mark as I realized that not only did I like you more than I’d ever liked anyone— I was looking directly at the person who would surely strangle me to death if he ever found out that I liked you more than I’d ever liked anyone. So I pretended it never happened. I said ‘yeah, me too,’ the party ended, I went home, the summer went on, and before I knew it I was on campus and had a million other things to worry about. I saw how well you seemed to be doing when Mark would show me your Instagram posts, how much fun you were having, and I let that make me feel better about being such a coward. Over time, without you around, I convinced myself that things were better like this. That it never would have worked out anyway.”

There’s a moment of silence so utterly long that for a moment you genuinely think that this is going to be it. That he’s going to have said all of that and just… sighed, gotten up, and gone to sleep, leaving you alone to be in misery over what you’ve just heard until morning.

But that’s not it. He’s got a few more words for you. The worst of them all. A string of syllables at first, ones that instantly shatter every bit of emotional resistance you’ve built for yourself these last few days— and then a sentence that has your blood turning to ice in your veins when you realize what it means.

“But then you came back to Seoul,” Jeno started simply, “And a lot of things I thought I knew for sure don’t feel quite as concrete anymore.”

You inhaled.

You exhaled.

And tried to understand what the fuck that last part was supposed to mean.

But then before you could he continued on, his voice soft, casual, innocent. Too innocent. “Like how I used to be sure that you snored when you were sleeping,” he murmured. “Has it been so long that I've forgotten? Or are you not actually asleep, Rockstar?”

[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster!

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hearts4golbach · 3 months

Note

could you write something about reader and johnnie related to the line 'he love me but he fucks me like he hates my guts' from the song yummy? ty 💕💕

Tease.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

warnings: use of ma, baby, mama, love, babe, slut, cheating, rough sex, unprotected sex (please use protection lol), overstimulation, implied hair pulling.

third person.

Johnnie had never thought of you as anything more than his best friend. maybe he had thought about you late at night, biting his tongue so as not to wake up jake in the room over, but never past that. he had always shooed away the thought, anyway.

ever since his past girlfriend, he had refused to ever think of another person romantically. although, he had acknowledged from time to time how funny, kind, and beautiful you were. he admired you in a friend way, he told himself.

although, whenever you had posted a selfie laying in your bed in the cutest outfit he had ever seen, it made him rethink your relationship.

he thought about the way your face lit up brighter than the sun when you saw him and the way your hand would purposefully graze him every chance you got. how could he be so oblivious? he began to think as his feelings for you grew.

you never seemed to mention other guys until you did. it was late at night whenever you had walked into johnnies room and asked him for advice. you wanted to know how to respond to a flirty text some random guy on instagram had sent, you explained. You thought he was cute and lived just a city over. this infuriated johnnie, as his feelings had been brewing for about 3 months now.

it didn't help that he got to see you every day, not that he was complaining, but it was torture. he frequently thought of you in your booty shorts and oversized band t-shirt early in the morning, making breakfast. or the slutty dresses youd wear to parties every other weekend. dont even get him started on the rhinestone belts you incorporated into every outfit. you had one in every different color, and he believed it was the cutest thing, your little addiction to them. it became too much to bear, and he frequently considered pouring his heart out to you. but he never did. things were going well with the other guy, and all he wanted was for you to be happy.

first person.

"Why are we even hanging all of this up? everyone is gonna be too drunk to notice, anyway." i complained, my arms beginning to ache as i held the decorations of choice to the wall while johnnie pinned them.

he shrugged, his eyes trailing down my body as i stretched. "cause were cool."

"i guess," i sighed, "im so worried, the guy I've been talking to is coming tonight." truth was, i could give a fuck less about that guy. yeah, he was sweet, but he wasn't johnnie. he wasn't anywhere close to being as prefect as johnnie was.

i looked into his eyes, praying he would beg me to uninvite him and be his, but that didn't happen. "Don't be, you'll be good," he responded nonchalantly before turning away to go put up valuables in the house that could be broken.

i stared at him for a moment before turning around and tending to my own work.

"Do you think this dress is okay?" i asked frantically.

"y/n, people are about to start showing up, and you're still trying to get dressed -" johnnie began to scold as he turned around.

his face flushed as he admired me in the dress. his eyes hesitated, staring at the slit in the dress that revealed my thigh and how the cut of the dress complimented my cleavage. he stayed silent.

"...so?" i asked, putting my hands on my hips.

"yeah, its whatever. its good." he brushed me off, going to unlock the door.

i hated how much he acted like he didn't care. i rolled my eyes and walked back to my room to put my shoes on. even though it was my own house, i didn't want anyone looking at my feet, of course. i put on my comfiest pair of heels and went to grab the drinks from the kitchen. i organized them on the table, setting out the plastic cups. i felt an arm wrap around my waist as a presence moved next to me.

"hey, its good to see you." the guy from instagram whispered in my ear. i leaned into his touch, ignoring the growing ache in my heart. "you look stunning."

"Thank you," i smile, "it's good to see you, too." This was only the second time we had ever seen each other in person.

i heard johnnie laughing behind me, presumably speaking to jake. i glanced behind me to see him leaning on the counter. he looked at me at the exact same time. He held his breath as his eyes ran over every part of me before turning his attention back to jake.

i sighed, "you wanna go dance?" i asked, hoping he'd say yes and hoping johnnie would hate it.

his eyes shined with lust, "Of course."

i grabbed his hand and dragged him into the other room, making sure we were still in johnnies vision. the guys hands moved to my hips immediately, pulling me onto him. my eye twitched with anger. i hoped it would work. i hoped and prayed johnnie would give in and make me his, so i had a reason to end this situationship. distractions weren't working anymore.

i kept my eyes on johnnie as he turned to watch. his eyebrows scrunched together whenever he saw the way i was pressed into the guy. his hand gripped the cup tighter, his knuckles turning white. i held eye contact the whole time, my gaze never leaving his as our movements became more sexual.

johnnie turned back to jake, saying something before setting his cup down and walking over to me. "can i steal you for a second?"

"Sure, bro," the guy said, taking his hands off of me and letting me walk away with johnnie.

"what, johnnie?" i groan, "im just trying to have fun."

he pushed me into my room and shut the door behind us and locked it. "what the fuck do you think youre doing?"

"what do you mean?" my heart raced.

"You know exactly what you're doing." he whispered in my ear, his pale arms snaked around me and grabbed my hips. "You've been teasing me for so long."

he pulled me closer. i pressed my hands against his chest. "really? what makes you say that?" i taunted.

"Those tiny jean shorts you wear around the house. you never wear them out, so i know they're for me. and those studded belts you always wear that somehow make your body even sexier than it already is." his hands slid down my thighs and pulled up my dress. it bunched around my waist as he squeezed my ass. "you really think i dont notice all the slutty little things you do?"

i bit my lip, feeling his nails digging into my flesh. "i was hoping you did. ive wanted you for so long."

"me too, mama." he replied before crashing his lips onto mine.

the kiss was rough and needy. he pressed me against the wall, his hands dragging up my body to my tits. he squeezed and pawed at them, not bothering to be gentle. i let out a soft moan on his lips. i felt him grow harder through his jeans as he pressed into me. i began to pull off of his shirt, immediately returning to the kiss as it landed on the floor. he wrapped his hand around my neck, squeezing gently. our teeth occasionally clashed as we tried to take as much of each other as possible.

he lifted me up, wrapping my legs around his waist before bringing me to the bed. he tossed me down on my back before crawling on top of me. his mouth found the soft spot on my neck, biting and sucking until dark hickeys covered my neck and chest. he pulled the top of my dress down, revealing my bare chest.

he hummed, "god, you're so beautiful." he murmured before taking my nipple into his mouth. his tongue swirled over the bud, sucking gently. i moaned and arched my back, grinding onto his buldge.

"fuck, johnnie, let me have you." i pleaded, beginning to unbuckle his pants.

"Yes, ma'am." he complied, pulling his pants and boxers down around his ankles. his hard dick sprung out of his jeans.

i hissed, "shit."

johnnie slipped his middle and ring finger in my mouth. "Spit, baby." i did as he told, licking his fingers before spitting on them. my gaze never left his. i watched as lust overtook his eyes. "Good girl."

he rubbed my spit on his cock, wincing slightly as the friction. his slender fingers slipped through the lace strap of my underwear, pulling them down. i choked out curses as the cold air hit my pussy.

"god, youre fucking soaked." he smriked, "youre going to do so good for me, ma."

he gripped my hips, aligning his tip with my entrance before slowly sliding his cock inside of me. my mouth fell ajar as a soft moan escaped my lips. he bottomed out, giving me a moment to adjust to his size. my walls squeezed his cock, sending shivers through my body.

"fuck," he choked out, "are you okay?" he checked, running his hand over my cheek and pulling on my bottom lip.

i nodded quickly, wrapping my legs around his waist. his fingers intertwined with mine, putting one hand above my head. his other stayed on my hip, gripping so tightly i figured there'd be bruises in the morning. he began to thrust slowly, taking his time with me.

"I've wanted to feel you for so long," he muttered on my lips before kissing me softly. "god, youre so perfect. do you think you can take me, babe?"

i hesitated before nodding. "yes, oh my- please."

he moved his hand, so he had a firm hold on my hips. speeding up his pace, he whispered sweet nothings under his breath. "That's it, baby." his hand flew to my clit, rubbing circles.

my back arched slightly as i threw my head back. he took that to his advantage, his cock driving further into me. "Oh, shit." i moaned, placing my hand on his chest. "johnnie, i-i can't.."

"Yes, you can, love. i believe in you." his eyebrows furrowed. "im not done with you, yet."

i nodded, letting pleasure take over my body. moans and curses flowed out of my mouth. his pace was relentless. my mind was fuzzy, and i couldn't form any words besides his name. i moaned his name loud, forgetting other people could hear.

"you arent worried about your little boyfriend hearing you?" he chuckled in between pants, "youre such a slut, i love it."

"only you," i repeated, "only for you."

"That's my girl," he slammed my g-spot over and over as a knot began to form in my stomach. "youre mine."

i nodded eagerly, "'m gonna cum, baby."

"Me too, where do you want me?" he asked breathlessly. his thrusts became sloppy.

"inside. im on the pill," i moaned out, louder than i was expecting.

"i fucking love you." his raspy voice responded. "cum with me, mama."

his thumb met my clit again as my walls milked his cock, taking every last drop of his cum inside. my orgasm took over my body, making me go limp.

he kissed my forehead. "god, you're amazing," he flipped me over so i was bending over the bed, "give me one more."

all i could do was nod as i was still recovering from my previous orgasm. without warning, he was inside of me again, his quick pace never faltering.

my moans became high-pitched. the overstimulation was a mix of pain and pleasure. his fingers tangled in my hair, pushing my head down into the bed as he hit a different angle inside of me. his other hand gripped my ass as low whimpers slipped from his lips.

"fuck, i love you so much." his sweet words contradicting his actions. i tried to say it back, but it came out unintelligible. he stopped thrusting, balls deep inside of me. "use your words, baby."

"fuck, i love you." i grinded my ass into his hips, "i love you so much."

his cock began to drill into me again as i felt the knot in my stomach tighten again. "You close?" i moaned out in agreement. "Me too,"

my second orgasm hit me like a truck at the same time his did. johnnie collapsed onto the bed next to me. "we'll go shower when everyone leaves." he said breathlessly. i nodded in agreement. i laid my head on his chest and knocked the fuck out.

#fanfiction #fanfic #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie guilbert x reader #smut #johnnie guilbert smut #party #overstim kink #ayesha ericota

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ofswordsandpens · 4 months

Text

Finale Thoughts

The show stuck the ending far better than I thought it would and when compared to the preceding episodes it knocks it out of the park. That being said, I think because the bar was so low going in, that it makes this episode feel spectacular when really every episode should have done this well, at minimum.

Solo Lessons and Ares Battle

I'm so happy they included the one-on-one training sessions with Luke since its so essential to foreshadowing. I also liked the setting in the woods but why was it like autumn/fall in the flashback lol? However, I think that did unintentionally add a dreamlike quality to the scene which I did really like so whatever I'm here for it.

That being said I do wish these scenes were in episode 2/3 alongside the other chb stuff instead of being a flashback in the finale because it makes it just so on the nose that Luke's the traitor. However, the shot panning from Luke's extended sword to Percy's on the beach ate I can't lie.

Honestly it may have been interesting if they had established some of the solo lessons early on in episode 3 and then done periodic flashbacks to expand on them throughout the series. That way, its not so obvious that Luke's the traitor in the final hour and we also get cool transition shots and establishing that Percy is thinking about what he's learned from his lessons with Luke.

#Relieved that the Ares and Percy fight was not a single sword strike and then cut to black. Glad we had some action. Still think we should've pushed the limits much harder tho.

Oh but Percy's wave did go hard. They actually made the wave much bigger than what happened in the book and now I'm just sitting here wondering why we couldn't see some more of this instead of 10,000 cut to black scenes every time Percy uses his powers.

I wish we had gotten this Ares's reaction from the book when he lost: "The roar that followed made Hades’s earthquake look like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from Ares, leaving a wet circle of sand fifty feet wide." Show Ares's reaction seemed so anticlimactic in comparison.

And no curse???? huh??

I know Ares was like "we're enemies 4 life now" but the curse and dialogue from the book goes so unbelievably hard: “You have made an enemy, godling. You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Perseus Jackson. Beware.”

Why couldn't show Ares say that??

Olympus, Zeus, & Poseidon

[Insert aw, she's ugly John Mulaney Meme]

sorry Olympus could've should've been prettier.

Like Olympus in the book felt a lot more wondrous and lush and colorful. But in the show it seemed so dull. Idk if its cause the "war's happening" or whatever it was just bland. a wash of dull-looking cgi and then an instant cut to the Big Palace.

Lance Reddick's Zeus was amazing tho. He had that godly presence I've been waiting for.

And Toby Stephens's Poseidon? oh I loved it.

I especially loved their conversation in greek.

I still wish however they would have done effects on the gods' eyes. Like glowing with energy or something when they get emotional. I felt like I was waiting to see electricity burst from Zeus when he was yelling at Percy.

And so it turns out that the reason why they changed it to Percy missing the deadline in the show was to create a situation in which Poseidon surrenders a war for his son.

And listen, if this scene existed in a vacuum I'd be so here for it. I guess a part of me can't fathom the solstice being anything other than a hard deadline. I enjoy the scene without context, within context I have mixed feelings about it.

But the "do you dream?" convo between Percy and Poseidon. Oh my god no notes. I loved it.

Some more book dialogue that I wish made it: “You did well, Perseus. Do not misunderstand me. Whatever else you do, know that you are mine. You are a true son of the Sea God.”

Luke's Betrayal

Okay here's where we get some high highs and low lows.

Some things I sincerely liked:

The setting. Fireworks going off in the background. The lantern illuminating the side of Luke's face with the scar. So visually nice.

Luke actively trying to recruit Percy! I've always joked that if Luke was just a little smarter he would have tried to persuade Percy to join his side rather than immediately kill him. And I do like that the show went this direction.

While I do mourn the loss of the scorpion them battling via swords is a great subversion of the sword mentor/mentee dynamic they share. It makes the scene tense and fast pace.

And its all of the above that makes me wonder why we didn't have more of this throughout the show: talking while battling, visually appealing and dynamic settings, unique visuals, etc.

I love how triggered Luke was at Percy's mention of meeting Hermes. I still hate how much Hermes introduction bogged down the show but damn if it didn't lead to one singular funny moment.

Percy getting a hit in on Luke and then immediately apologizing

"I didn't think you'd give the shoes to Grover." Oh that was cold.

Walker and Charlie deserve their flowers and more they were fantastic and carried.

Now things I DIDN'T like:

I don't like how Percy pieced it together with the information he did have... which honestly isn't a lot in the show? If he was going to figure out that Luke was the traitor I would've have had Luke show more of his bitterness like he did in the book. Like the fact the show never even mentioned Luke's failed his quest loses the entire element of Percy succeeding an "impossible" quest and being celebrated while Luke only got a scar and a chip on his shoulder from his failed one.

Luke's scar shoulda been worse idc.

Percy should have been mortally wounded. That's where we run into an issue with there being no scorpion because yeah, a fatal sword injury probably would've been a bit much to depict. I also 10000% think that Luke is enough of a baby to get his daddy issues triggered and then try to off Percy for it even if his original intention was to recruit him.

Also the fact that you see Luke raise his sword for a damning blow and then the very next day you have Percy like "I don't think Luke was trying to kill me." and Chiron agreeing? asdlkfjsdlkf WRONG.

Also, sorry, I don't like that Annabeth was there.

But if you're gonna have Annabeth there, her reaction to Luke betraying her and trying to hurt Percy should've been way more severe than a solemn "I heard everything."

She shoulda been crying, questioning, yelling even if she had suspected him. It's one thing to suspect it, it's another to see the person you consider your family to actually prove it true.

(And this isn't on Leah! It's 100% on the directors cause what was the thought process here? Her brother figure betrays her and she's like :/)

And sure, in the book Annabeth isn't actually all that surprised by Luke's betrayal when Percy tells her about it... but we also never got to see her initial reaction to it. Percy was out for 2 days.

Just, if book Annabeth had been there, she would've been so emotional and that's okay!! let Leah show off her chops!

Sally

I mourn book Sally. I mourn her arc. I mourn the power of Sally unapologetically petrifying Gabe with Medusa's head.

One of the most iconic storylines from the book and it was sanitized in the show to the point that it lost all sense and meaning.

Honestly one of the biggest disappointments of the show for me.

Other

I love the fact that a flower is the searcher's license for satyrs its just so silly and sweet.

I love Annabeth sincerely hugging Percy but also using it for strategizing purposes it feels very on point for her.

Also her braids at the end!! so sweet!

I am very very bitter that Percy didn't see the fates. This + the changes made to Sally's characterization and arc... the show truly doesn't get it.

#pjo show crit #probably need to edit this its likely riddled with typos but

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nyoomerr · 7 months

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For a prompt:

If you could take one scene from svsss to 'fix-it' what would it be?

my favorite place for fix-its is as a jin-lan city divergence, just like half the population of this fandom, LOL. i've done fix-its there a couple times now, and i want to try my hand at a "the trial happens" fix-it fic sometime in the future, but there's no way i'd be fitting that into a drabble length ahaha 💦

so in the meantime, here's a shorter thing, set when lbh is trying to cure sqq of the sower's rash!

---

In Shen Qingqiu’s defense, he’s had a very, very stressful day.

Meeting Luo Binghe two years too early, getting accosted by a bunch of no-good Huan Hua upstarts, getting infected with the sower’s curse - there’s just been a lot, okay! By the time he’d made it here, cornered in a dingy alleyway with Luo Binghe looming over him, he’d already used up a large amount of his daily rationed tolerance for bullshit! His face had already started to crack!! He wanted a break!!!

He did not get a break. Instead he got Luo Binghe, suddenly larger than Shen Qingqiu himself, shoulders broad in a way that made his height look far more becoming on him than it had when he was 17 and on the edge of the abyss, a beanpole that had just recently grown tall enough to look Shen Qingqiu level in the eyes.

Instead he got Luo Binghe, as observant as ever but with far less respect for his Shizun, catching Shen Qingqiu’s wrist and running his thumb over the rash caused by the sower’s curse.

Instead he got Luo Binghe, his ears a bit too pointed for a human and his teeth more like fangs in his mouth, raising his own hand to those deadly teeth of his and tearing into his flesh, and -

Shen Qingqiu had a defense, remember!! Stressful day, no breaks!!

- and Shen Qingqiu can’t help himself, and raises his free hand up to Luo Binghe’s mouth, too, pressing the pad of one thumb up into one too-sharp canine.

“They’re so much sharper than I thought…” Shen Qingqiu mumbles to himself, as if he’s making a simple field observation and not sticking his hand in his future murderer’s mouth.

The hand Luo Binghe has wrapped around Shen Qingqiu’s other wrist tightens, and Shen Qingqiu freezes.

“Haha,” he says, and then very quickly tries to extract his hand from Luo Binghe’s mouth.

But then - stressful day, no breaks, very good excuse!! - Shen Qingqiu doesn’t actually drop his hand all the way back to his side. Instead, he finds himself hovering useless fingers over the bleeding wound Luo Binghe had torn into the palm of his hand.

“...Shizun?” Luo Binghe asks, sounding a bit like a lost kid and not at all like a blackened emperor on the path to revenge.

Shen Qingqiu lets his fingers make contact, sliding gently through the hot mess of blood dripping from Luo Binghe’s palm. Luo Binghe shivers under his touch.

“...You shouldn’t let it bleed like this,” Shen Qingqiu says. Luo Binghe’s blood is precious, after all - watching fat crimson beads of it fall to the ground beneath them feels like a waste.

Beneath Shen Qingqiu’s fingers, the wound knits itself back together. He supposes that makes sense - there’s blood all over Luo Binghe’s hand and wrist, and Shen Qingqiu’s fingers as well, now. There’s no need for him to keep the wound open; he can use any of the existing blood to force down Shen Qingqiu’s throat.

…Fuck, Shen Qingqiu really forgot to be scared of that, just then!!

(In front of him, Luo Binghe is thinking very, very hard. He’s remembering every moment of his childhood when his Shizun had made an ill-advised move to get closer to some beast or another just to get a better look; he’s remembering the feeling of his Shiun’s fingers in his mouth, curious and testing.

Luo Binghe… perhaps has a better idea than his current plan. After all, if his Shizun won’t take him back willingly, then Luo Binghe will simply take his Shizun back, himself - and what better way to attract Shen Qingqiu than with a beast?)

Beneath Shen Qingqiu’s fingers, Luo Binghe shifts his hand, moving it to be palm-down. Shen Qinqgiu frowns, watching Luo Binghe’s blood drip onto the ground faster, now, but -

But then Luo Binghe’s fingers do something - odd. They were human looking just now, Shen Qingqiu was sure of it, but now Luo Binghe’s nails are black and pointed and curled like claws, and his fingers are shaped oddly up to the first knuckle. It almost looks like…

Shen Qingqiu slides his fingers down from Luo Binghe’s palm to his fingers, taking a couple of them firmly in hand and pressing gently at the base of the claws there.

Fascinatingly, Luo Binghe’s claws extend out like a cat’s.

“Oh,” Shen Qingqiu says, unconsciously tugging Luo Binghe’s hand up to his face for a closer look. He doesn’t remember the Luo Binghe of PIDW ever having this feature. “Where do they go, normally?”

“If Shizun comes back to this disciple’s rooms with him, I’ll cut off a finger for you to dissect,” Luo Binghe says, as if that’s a completely normal and sane thing to suggest.

Shocked, Shen Qingqiu drops Luo Binghe’s hand and rears backwards, pressing into the dirty alleyway wall behind him. Luo Binghe stares down at him, expression twisted up.

“Is this disciple so despicable that Shizun doesn’t even want that?” Luo Binghe asks, voice bitter. “Which part is so undesirable to Shizun? Following me anywhere at all, or being made to inspect any part of this disciple so closely?”

“Obviously that isn’t what’s wrong, here!” Shen Qingqiu gasps, offended and terrified in equal measure. “What kind of - don’t cut off your fingers to use as bait!”

“Ah,” Luo Binghe says ruefully. “So I couldn’t fool you after all. Was that it, then? Shizun took offense to my attempts to lure him in? Or was it all of it, after all?”

Shen Qingqiu gapes at him, then finally remembers he has a fan and very quickly snaps it open to hide behind. What kind of person wouldn’t take offense to being lured into a trap, ah! If a rabbit knew it would be skinned and eaten once caught, it also wouldn’t like any sort of bait, no matter how tasty!

Aloud, Shen Qingqiu says nothing. Luo Binghe’s expression grows more pinched, his lips pulling up in a sneer, and -

- and ah, his teeth are even sharper, now! Shen Qingqiu hadn’t even noticed!! Had that happened when Luo Binghe had released whatever sort of glamor made his nails look human, too? Was it a physical modification, or only an illusion? Did it break if someone tried to touch it? But, no, Shen Qingqiu himself had touched Luo Binghe’s teeth, and they hadn’t seemed out of sorts, so -

“Do your teeth retract too?” Shen Qingqiu can’t help but ask.

Luo Binghe lets out a frustrated sigh. “Shizun can experiment with this one all he wants, if he would just -!”

Shen Qingqiu peers out over the edge of his fan carefully. Luo Binghe has been acting seriously, seriously OOC for a blacked demon lord this whole time, and it leaves Shen Qingqiu feeling off balance. Should he try to talk his way out of this? Should he just go back to trying to run for it?

Luo Binghe narrows his eyes at Shen Qingqiu. “If Shizun tries to run again, I’ll release the whole glamor and stand in the middle of the town until you come get me.”

“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu exclaims. “Don’t be foolish, you - this master hasn’t told anyone about -”

“I know,” Luo Binghe says. “So either Shizun would be able to see a demon that is willing to let him dissect it, or someone else would come along and do that very thing but with far less precision.”

Shen Qingqiu raises his fan higher, nervous. “Don’t talk about being attacked like that,” he scolds.

Luo Binghe hums, pressing in closer to Shen Qingqiu’s space. “Shizun’s right, of course - anyone but him would ruin this disciple if they tried to take me apart. They wouldn’t be delicate enough; they’d ruin all the best parts to study.”

“That’s not -”

“So Shizun should be the one to take charge,” Luo Binghe says. “If you won’t follow me back to my room, I’ll follow you back to yours.”

Shen Qingqiu hesitates. He doesn’t really want to dissect Luo Binghe, of course - he has enough trouble as it is repressing the feeling of Xiu Ya slicing into the flesh of Luo Binghe’s chest from years ago. But he - he does want to know how Luo Binghe’s teeth work.

Shen Qingqiu’s room… is in the same building where Liu Qingge is staying, too. Hadn’t Shen Qingqiu first wanted to hug that battle-obsessed idiot’s thigh to get a strong protector for the future? If Luo Binghe tried anything, couldn’t he just call for help from his own room?

…This is very, very stupid. Shen Qingqiu is glad he has his very excellent and reasonable excuses from earlier.

“If Binghe wants,” Shen Qingqiu says aloud.

Luo Binghe grins at him wide enough that Shen Qingqiu can make out the odd way Luo Binghe’s teeth sit in his mouth, as if he has a second row of them.

Fascinating, he thinks, and reaches up to once more stick his hand into the mouth of his most deadly disciple.

Luo Binghe opens wider, letting Shen Qingqiu look, and starts quietly herding them back to the building the Cang Qiong delegation is staying in. It’s… ah, it’s probably fine, if Shen Qingqiu could just look a bit more…

#okok i'm killing it at the “keep these drabbles short” thing now im killin it #ty for the prompt!#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #bingqiu #fic drabble

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papay0 · 22 days

Text

List of songs that make me think about labru (in different universes and scenarios)

Super psycho love (Simon Curtis) ,these lines specifically

“Something lately drives me crazy

Has to do with how you make me

Struggle to get your attention”

“I love you and despise you” that’s pretty much their whole dynamic, at least from kabru’s side

“Please say you want me too

Because you're going to

Say that you want me every day

That you want me every way

That you need me”.

this part is more from a fanfic I read than anything lol (I don’t mind I feel kind from highlonesome)

Si po’ (Diego Lorenzini) this one is in Spanish but pretty much the song is about two very busy people who were finally able to clear their calendars for one night so they’ll spend it in each other arms and they couldn’t be more happy about it.

Roughly translated it goes something like this (it’s so hard to translate Chilean slang TT)

“the stars aligned

you wont guess what happened

remember that thing (??)

that had been set for today

yeah i was able to move it

i have all the time in the world for you

yeah and now you’re also free

so we will have all the time in the world to do mmm”

Post canon/ established relationship, with laios being king and kabru his royal advisor one can safely assume that they have lots of work and little free time

Despair (Leo) from kabru’s perspective I think coming to the realization he had feelings for laios was not something he was happy about XD so

“I've lost my cool

I'm not sure how to act

Not even sure how I can keep my pride intact”

“Cause it's not romantic, I swear

I'm not gasping for air

I want you to be here

But please don't come near

'Cause even though I'm pretty sure my head's exploding

I'm not ready for hand-holding

It's not love, I swear

It might be closer to despair”

Using you (Mars Argo) this one’s here mostly because I’ve seen a few edits that used it but yeah it makes sense to me

“I love you and I hate you and I'm losing my mind

And you tell me all the time that this will pass and that I'm gonna be fine

We're such a mess together, you make me lose my temper”

#I’ll be adding to this if I think of more #don’t mention my music taste I know it’s bad TT #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #laios touden #kabru #labru #kabru of utaya

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ms-demeanor · 5 months

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hello! i vaguely recall you doing a new year's resolution bingo thing - first, was that actually you lol? and if so, how'd it go, any adjustments you'd make from the original idea? (i did a resolution bingo this past year, which mostly ended up being a 24 item quest buffet, which did work for me! but i'm curious for more data). happy new year to you and your various sizes of bastard!

Hello! Yes, that was me. It didn't go great!

I did a resolution bingo in 2022 but it ended up feeling like homework and at a certain point in the year I looked at the spaces that I hadn't filled and it just made me feel bad.

In 2023 I did kind of a chore chart; I used a sheet of college-ruled notebook paper and divided it up into columns with things like "guitar" and "draw" and and "quilt square" and "go for a walk by myself" and numbered out 52 lines and I went through and highlighted each thing as I did it each week. That went very well for some things and not very well for others. I had at least a few columns where I did something every other week, and I totally finished the quilt square column, and I drew something for like 40 weeks, but I also had several categories that I did absolutely nothing for and several categories that had very few highlights.

That chart *also* was kind of a problem and there was a week in, like, august where my brain was being weird and was like "you can't do more of X until you've caught up on Y and Z" because I had to flip the paper over and wanted to finish three columns before I flipped it - that was clearly a very silly hangup but I don't make the rules for what my brain will freak out about and it caused a disproportionate amount of stress.

This year I kind of combined the two and I've made three sheets of paper with different tasks on different lines, and in different amounts. (And none of the papers need to be flipped over so I won't get a weird hangup week)

So instead of having 52 blanks each for "pushups" "squats" and "go for a walk by myself" I've got 156 blanks for "workout: lifting, calisthenics, stretching, walking, cardio." I didn't do a single walk by myself last year, and it turns out I'm pretty unlikely do do random squats or pushups, so rather than try to do one exercise fifty two times I'm just going to try to do *some* kind of exercise three times a week and I'm not going to feel bad about it if that's more bench press instead of more cardio.

I did pretty well with quilt squares so i've set a goal to do twice as many this year. I set a goal for 52 drawings and writing seriously 52 times. My yard is a disaster so my goal is to fill my yardwaste bin 52 times this year.

But what I *haven't* done is divide that up by week. Maybe some weeks I'll get four workouts in and other weeks I'll do two. Maybe I won't draw for a month but I'll get into it a lot over the summer.

One of my two other sheets is things that I'd like to do daily. My four daily tasks that I'm aiming for are: clean something at the house, floss, moisturize, and journal. (Journaling was successful in the bingo year but not at all last year)

The other sheet is the one that's more like the bingo, or what I think the spirit of the bingo is supposed to be. I've got it labeled "Bonus" and each thing on it has about twenty circles that I can check off if I do something but that I don't see as a goal. That includes stuff like "friend hangs" and "go someplace" - stuff that I want to do more of but that I can either plan or do spontaneously and that doesn't have a big project end goal (so it's "do something with music like program a music box or play guitar for a while" rather than "write a song" like it was the bingo year, when no song got written).

I may have also just kneecapped myself by making the bingo squares too hard. Maybe I should do a monthly bingo with smaller goals.

The bingo also got harder when I failed at bullet journaling; turns out that's not a great way for me to manage my time and attention and the bingo was in the bullet journal. Having stuff on a wall next to the light switch in my office helped a lot last year, I think, so that's where my sheets are this year too.

IDK, this is all fun to experiment with and I enjoy it but also I'm never sure if any of it "works" in terms of getting me to do more of the things that I'd like myself to do. It did work for quilt squares last year, though, and that's the best progress I've made on my quilt since I started it in 2021. And the daily chart is helping a lot so far.

But maybe I just like making charts (I do).

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winslowat3am · 2 years

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-poke with stick- you alive? where’s the spooky szn music stuff?? i sent requests twice but you ignore. #feelsbadman #imannoying T_T.

I'm back (not really)! Sowwie. Hiatus, kind of. On vacation with friends/fam for my birthday (it's Oct 23rd but I celebrate the entire month cause it's the only time I get to be self centered, lol), so yeah. You're not annoying me. We've been on vacation since the 12th. My set up is back at home, so I couldn't take requests for or make any music right now even if I wanted to. Quick update (wanted to share this since I never make personal posts anymore):

The ocean sunset here is so beautiful, I love simple things like this. It looks like the sky is hand painted every day. My favorite thing here is the view (& this bathroom). As soon as you walk through the lobby it's like boom - vacation. The best thing about traveling, for me, is feeling like I'm on a high. The rooms overlook the pool & beach, the suite is a full apartment. Also obsessed with this shower & tub.

The location is so convenient cause there's tons of restaurants not far from the island & onsite. We had a poolside lunch delivered yesterday from one of the restaurants nearby & there were different healthy options available (shrimp salad, veggie rolls, sandwiches, fruit, ceviche, etc) which I love. The executive chef at the the resort has a passion for farming & local cooking so pretty much all the herbs & the greens used on-property are grown right here, in a huge greenhouse. It's so cool. New plants are springing up!

They also have a spa, golf course that was fun, gym, breakfast cafe, indoor pool, onsite activities like nature tours, fitness classes & a kids' club. We visited the spa, which was fun, I had a hot stone massage & facial while Yas had a deep tissue massage. & every night we've been bar hopping like drunks, lmao. We had scallops, steak & potatoes, bruschetta-watermelon & feta pizza with cucumber - a new favorite of mine, & cake for dessert.

It was my idea to roast marshies & make s'mores, trying to get into the fall spirit. 😏 Also, we did some fall shopping earlier in the month & let me tell you I think I have a candle problem. We bought a lot of scents. Sunrise Woods, Cinnamon Vanilla, Pumpkin Pecan Waffles, Caramel Pumpkin Swirl, Cinnamon Irish Cream & Vampire Blood. Vampire Blood.

I digress. We're leaving tomorrow & are going to spend the rest of the month at Disney Paris for Halloween. So I'll probably be back home sometime November & then I can do music requests (& post a really funny Pumpkin Spice video that I've been wanting to). I'm just taking a break/focusing on my life & my family. Don't wait up. 🖤

#Also wtf is up with this new wave of blank blog bots & them only following specific blogs (mine included) & in the same order?#Ew *scrunches nose*#personal #vacay #ask #answered #hiatus

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epiphainie · 6 days

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what are some moments you’d like to see or you think we *should* get together between bucktommy in season 8? ‘should’ - not as in must get! but moments you think would be important to their growth and establishing them as a long term couple and would be very good for the story they’ve built so far

Hi anon,

Sorry for the very late reply, I had to think about this a bit because I love this question! This will get long, sorry in advance.

I think first things first, we need some drama lol. Seeing how a couple overcomes conflict for the first time is seeing how the relationship can/will prevail in the long term. It's also important as a story element, conflict is what makes characters make decisions and take actions, what enhances the emotional impact etc. After all, what is more satisfactory than the sense of resolution that feels earned?

I think the first type of conflict I would like to see them navigate through would be something interpersonal. I don't really want a bloated case of miscommunication because so far they have been presented to do very well in that aspect (Buck is for once not just going with the flow but proactively pursuing this relationship, they both apologize, they both hear each other, they both reassure the other etc.) but the reality is every new relationship will have a stumbling bit when it comes to communication.

I don't know what they'd specifically deal with (like Henren had trust issues and Madney ignored talking about mental health) but Buck - despite his progress - has very well-documented issues around his self-perception and the concept of love and we know it took Tommy a great deal of effort to become the guy he is today (who's in tune with Buck and seem to communicate very well), he also has his own demons. So the right triggering event can cause a moment of unexpressed emotions on both sides. (Our fic writers have been great coming up with ideas for this and I've seen many posts speculating, so if anyone has any specific scenarios in mind please put in the tags.) What I would really really love to see in a scenario like this is an explicit, on-screen reassurance of each other about the root of their issue. I want Buck to have a love interest who with clear words say what Buck needs to hear and I want Buck to reciprocate. Like I said, we've seen BuckTommy be mutually really good at this so far, so I would love to see how it looks when they deal with something bigger.

The second type of conflict I'd like to see them handle would be a conflict caused by an external threat. Maybe not something as dramatic (and hurtful) as Madney dealing with Doug but anything that puts them through the wringer a little bit. This and what I said above wouldn't need to be mutually exclusive events obviously (Gerrard, for example, can be an external threat AND a trigger for individual insecurities, interpersonal conflict etc.) but this I specifically want because I believe to convincingly set them up as a long term/significant relationship, they should show us them being a team, a united front. Where my first point was about seeing how they would navigate their individual traumas together, this is about seeing how they'd deal with the world that throws them a wrench.

Now that the heavy stuff is out of the way, I think we need to see how they would act as a couple in a group setting. This obviously touches many of the points we've collectively made over the past few months about how there's so much potential re: Tommy interacting with the other 118 members. I think one of the biggest fails of Buck's previous relationships from a writing point was how little they existed within the rest of Buck's world. The first time I watched that scene of Buck, Taylor, Eddie, and Chris having dinner together I had to do a double take because so much of Buck's relationship with Taylor and Buck's relationship with everyone else felt like two different shows. It was cute when Buck said "You don't want to see a hangry Taylor" - it made them sound domestic, it made their relationship feel actually lived. This is such a little thing for BuckTommy to feel integrated and real imo. I don't mean they have to write BuckTommy as the center of attention in a group setting, what I mean is that they need to extend BuckTommy's existence as a couple to the broader context of the show.

Kind of building on this, another thing I think would serve very very well here is if we see Tommy interact with others when Buck is not there. If we want BuckTommy to exist beyond the context of their 1:1 scenes, we need Tommy as an individual to exist beyond that as well. Again, this is going back to how Tommy has the potential for these dynamics to feel organic in a way that didn't exist with prior LIs before. And I think one specific thing I would really like to get (and this is gonna sound ironic bc I said we need Tommy uncoupled from Buck just now) is Tommy talking about Buck to other people. As we need Tommy to exist in Buck's greater world, with his people in a way that his ex-girlfriends didn't, we also need Buck to exist in Tommy's world even when he's not there. The only comparison I can make here is Abby as she was the only previous LI who had her own relationships, but damn, did we ever see a love interest talk about why Buck matters to them, how he makes them feel etc. I wanna know how Tommy perceives Buck. This is like 101 if you wanna sell to the audience the love interest is actually interested too.

Couldn't find a place for this (maybe group-setting entry was more fitting love) but I also would really like to see them act casual. This is way more superficial than my other points but I was just watching some 911: LS scenes and I truly believe one of the reasons Tarlos is sold so well is because we get domestic, comfortable touches in every scene. Again, making a relationship feel actually lived. I don't think any of the 911 couples engage in this as much as Tarlos do but they certainly still do to a degree and I want and need that for BuckTommy.

Thanks for the ask anon!

#please tell me what you think in the tags or my inbox #im living for this type of stuff #bucktommy #kinley #kinkley #tevan #911 #mimi talks

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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AITA For no longer wanting to continue a mutual hobby, started with a friend?

Hello! Long time lurker first time asker. Sorry if the title is a bit confusing!

Long story short I (27 ftm) recently started rock climbing as a hobby and a fun to exercise. For context I'm a heavier person, so I wanted to do a physical hobby that I could do at my own pace. I started with a 101 top-rope course and invited a long time friend of mine to attend with me (they suggest taking the class in pairs). After that I took a bouldering 101 course by myself (my aforementioned friend said they weren't interested, totally understandable).

I've since started to take climbing more seriously and ramped up to going 2-3 times a week (I live a 10 min walk away from the climbing gym). Also going earlier in the day to avoid the peak hours as i'm immunocompromised so the less people the better. This month will be my 4th month doing so.

We originally started climbing together however after a few weeks of meeting up once a week, they kept bailing with little to no notice (or telling me 11:30 pm the night before). Also when we'd met up the last time she brought her boyfriend along. Even though I said i'd prefer to meet him for the first time in a more relaxed environment (not me dripping with sweat and out of breath). He's a nice enough guy but I just don't want to spend time with him in this specific setting lol.

I have a very erratic work schedule vs my friend who a has pretty stable work schedule. So I find I often have to take initiative to message them (the week before) asking what days work for them. That way I can reference what days I have off. They often ignore the message for a few days or answer the morning of.

They've called out every week for the two months+. Either saying they're too tired, don't feel like it, forgot their gym clothes and or have other plans. I'm totally fine with this! Life happens and sometimes you don't have the energy for these activities. However what cheeses me off is I feel like I always have to comfort them, so they don't feel bad they bailed again and they give me little to no notice.

About 2-3 weeks ago I asked them about dates to hang out (I also specified we didn't have to climbing, even just to go hang out for coffee or something lol) and they haven’t responded, but I see them posting online with their other group of friends. Again I’m not mad about them not wanting to go, or hanging out with their other friend-group but I’d appreciate some sort response.

The thing is I also have ANOTHER friend who is interested in coming with me to try it out. Both of these friends of mine don't get along anymore. At one point all three of us where pretty close mutual friends. Nothing crazy dramatic happened but they had a falling out and they no longer interact with each other at all.

I however am still friends with both of them. They also both know I am still friends with the other friend (if that makes sense).

For possible added context I have ASD, so this sometimes causes issues when reading peoples intentions or possible passive aggression. I also get very anxious when my planned schedule/routine gets thrown off and often can derail my entire day.

So to sum it up, AITA for wanting to climb by myself, or other people besides the friend originally started the hobby with? Even if these two people aren't really friends anymore? Am I being just too hard on them? Am I just not picking up on something? Thanks!

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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gyusimp · 10 months

Text

°•Cry•°

Warnings: No smut today, lol just a bit angst sorry. I've been feeling like Gyutaro lately and today I felt like crying in the office so I better take the opportunity to vent and write a bit.

▪︎Song Inspo: "Cry" - Cigarettes After Sex (i love them so much, pls listen to their music 🤧)

He was better than him, or so Gyutaro thought of his best friend.

Best friend? Since when did he think of him like that? He was quite a close acquaintance, because for Gyutaro friends don't exist.

He sees himself and him thinking that they are complete opposites, so why do they get along so well? And they get along so well why couldn't Gyutaro help but be envious of him from time to time?

Douma was a handsome young man, posting pictures of himself everywhere he went to his hundreds of Instagram followers. His skin was smooth, pale and flawless without any blemishes, his toned body and height would make anyone who looked at him drool, his features well proportioned and even his style of clothing was similar to that of a k-dramas idols or models, dammit.

He had a lot of friends not only in college but also from his old school where he finished high school, all the girls were texting him and would be willing to line up behind him at least to get a closer look.

He loved going out on weekends for walks and raising all the looks he could to feel desired and be the center of attention wherever he went.

Douma wanted a girl? He could have her.

But Gyutaro, oh, poor Gyutaro...he was Gyutaro. Always with the same expression on his face of having smelled shit even if he really felt happy, his laugh was totally outrageous and his shaky and weak voice matched it.

He had a nice skin tone and beautiful blue eyes but these were surrounded by dark circles due to the exhaustion of working all day and being a university student in his free time, the skin of various parts of his body including his face were dotted with peculiar birthmarks, a few scars and little spots caused by the stupid shitty acne he had been fighting for years.

He made an effort to dress well but being too tall he couldn't even find pants that fit him correctly, being tall was not part of his insecurities but being someone that big intimidated other people making them move away from him even when he weren't did it on purpose.

His hair was styled the same way every day, if he tried to do something different with it it was hard to like it and he'd rather opt to tie up his messy curls the same way again. Gyutaro hated his hair.

He had no friends, sometimes he used to talk with Hakuji and Michikatsu in college besides Douma but apart from them he had no one else to talk to. He hated people and his asocial tendencies made it almost impossible for him to want to leave his house when the 3 boys asked him out on a weekend. He had better things to do, like resting at least 1 fucking day a week and spending time with the only person he really cared about in life, his little sister Ume.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

"Did you see her? I think it's her, right?"

Gyutaro looked up from his food towards one of the campus gardens, looking at the girl the blonde was referring to.

"It's her. Bro, do you really like her and can't recognize her yet?"

"It's nerves, I suppose." Douma said, laughing ruefully.

It had been several months since Douma had set his colorful eyes on a girl from college, no idea who it could be because she wasn't in the same class as them so that made things a bit more difficult for Douma to start his goal of getting to know her better. He didn't even know her name.

Gyutaro tried to help and advise his friend in what he could, he had never had a girlfriend before but for some reason he was good at romantic issues, although not when he had to apply them himself.

Recently, a girl at work had made Gyutaro's heart race every time he talked to her. She was too nice to him and they had a common taste for topics of conversation. It is not common for Gyutaro to feel romantically attracted to someone, it had been 4 years since his last disappointment in love so this time he was more mature and thought he would dare to open up more and maybe get to know this adorable and special girl more.

They were small steps but Gyutaro was determined and motivated by his co-workers, he would start by greeting her in a friendly manner, talking with her in free time and even bringing her some sweets or snacks to her desk making her smile and thank him tenderly, making his chest puff up proudly every time they were together... but not everything was rosy.

An idiot was behind her too. He had a girlfriend but he was still after every woman in the office that he could get for himself within the company, 7 years older than her and unattractive but still...she seemed to send all the little but sincere efforts from Gyutaro fucking down the drain. He was very disappointed, again.

Gyutaro cannot forget how one day he came to work earlier than usual and found them laughing and talking as if they had known each other for years and when they saw him they simply went to another place to continue talking alone...as if he was trash.

That day he decided to give up but if only his heart could stop feeling things for her so easily. She preferred that bastard, it wasn't safe at all but seeing them eat lunch together every day, talking when they could and coming to work together would drive Gyutaro into the head without fail, making him feel bad. It wasn't the first time this happened to him, other girls he was interested in before also rejected him without a second thought. They all told him the same shit about "She's missing it, don't worry about her." "The right one will come" but when? How much longer was he going to have to keep waiting when he was getting further and further along in his adult life? Were they sure the problem wasn't him? Because he was convinced of that. Different interests in different people, different places and stages of his life... and he was always rejected.

Gyutaro had so much love to give behind that serious face and "unfeeling" armor, but no one cared to know what was beyond all that. It was frustrating.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

Gyutaro worked on his computer on some university projects after work, he did it afterward before going to sleep to pay enough attention to his little sister when he got home and had dinner with her. It was almost 9:00 pm and several messages made his cell phone vibrate, he took it to turn on the screen and see the contact "Douma" who had sent him 5 messages. Gyutaro opened the app and everything was a summary of how his partner had gotten the number of the girl he liked at a college event, got her Instagram and following each other accompanied by some screenshots of the random topic conversations with the girl. This made Gyutaro happy for his friend though not entirely, maybe at first but a few days later it all became a bit annoying for him. Douma couldn't stop talking about this girl, how cute she was to him and all the things they both had in common, how she responded to his messages almost immediately, and how they complimented each other. Douma was just excited and he didn't do it with any bad intentions but Gyutaro couldn't help but feel that his college romance was being rubbed in his face while he had been sent to hell a couple of weeks ago.

Gyutaro didn't say any bad comments to his friend, he reserved all kinds of hurtful words because he really appreciated him but envy grew little by little inside him. Douma was smart and handsome, he had gotten the seemingly unattainable girl of his dreams in a matter of weeks even though the only thing they met to socialize with was campus 1 time a week, a year ago he didn't even know she existed and now maybe they would even end up dating or doing things together in college and this disappointed Gyutaro in himself.

Why couldn't he do that? Why didn't these things happen to him? Even Ume got a love confession a few days ago but he never got his turn at anything...he was sick of this crap of feeling like he was "begging" people for some affection...he was fucking tired of the constant rejection .

If Douma did it with a complete stranger then why couldn't he achieve anything with the people he lived with and saw every day at school or work, with people who were even his friends, who took the fucking trouble to learn his name well and greet him every morning, with whom he had common themes and similar details in their life...why not him?

Shit, he was crying, again.

He didn't like to do it but he had to. Ume was asleep in her room so she couldn't hear his sobs in the dark, he sighed heavily and wiped a few tears from his face when his cell phone vibrated again. He scrolled down the notification panel only to find more messages from Douma and more screenshots of his conversations with the girl to tell him that everything was going well.

Gyutaro wasn't in the mood, not now. He tucked his cell phone under his pillow and snuggled under the covers as he was lulled to sleep by the rain outside. Maybe if he slept early today his head would stop aching and spinning in the morning, hoping to have a clearer and less stressful day than today.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba

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darkbluekies · 1 year

Text

Dr Kry asks #3

Previous one Next one

Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: insomnia, medication, drugs, chronic illnesses, broken bones, mentions of overdosing,

☁️ ... this is my last ask for the day i SWEAR. how about dr kry with a sleep deprived darling / a darling who's always sleep deprived. if that doesnt work because of the setting (cause yknow in canon the darling's always napping lol), then how about a darling who has trouble sleeping. OR BOTH if you want to and can make it work. sorry i really wanna request this one cause the only time i can have a good sleep nowadays is when the weekend hits 🥲 i just want a bit of dr kry fluff 😭

He will sit with you for as long as you need, putting your needs before his. He can see that you're struggling to fall asleep. He can see the hollow half moons under your eyes and his heart will break.

"I can't watch this anymore. I'm going to go get you some sleeping pills, okay? And if they won't work I'll go get anaesthesia. Hopefully that'll be able to make you relax."

You'll get your sleeping pills and then rest back against the pillow. Dr Kry will sit with you until morning hours if needed. He'll hold your hand, play with your fingers, hug you if you want one and read for you.

"Are you feeling a little sleepy now, Y/N? Yeah? Are the pills working? Amazing. Just relax and let yourself fall asleep. I'll be here with you until you fall asleep and then I'll meet you in the morning, okay? We'll eat breakfast together, I promise."

Dr kry with s/o who suffers from migraine. Like bright lights aren’t good, eats a lot of pain killers and sleeps a lot bc of it

One of the main things with Dr Kry is that he always forces you to sleep (as seen in his headcanon), but that's because of the poisoned air he puts you in. If the lights we're bothering you as well, he'll turn them down and use small, warm nightlights to keep the room somewhat lit up. He'll try to control your intake of pain killers since he's afraid that you'll take too many, but he'll make sure that you won't be in pain one way or another.

"What? Too bright? Still? But, honey, all of the lights are already off. It's only this little light that's still on ... alright, I'll turn it off. If this continues I might have to develop nightray vision. Why don't you take a nap, Y/N? It'll make you feel better."

How would Dr Kry react to a darling who's very interested in his love life and like to tease him ? Always asking question about his possible partner, what he likes, ect ? Just to say " I don't understand why you're still single, you're so easy to love! Besides you're also very quiet, I know a lot of girls who liked the quiet bo- Wait !! Let me set you up, there's a very nice nurse I think her name is ... Charlotte? You know, the short brunette on the first floor ? She seems very kind or maybe you're gay ?? Well, there's that one dude at the cafeteria, I kinda had a crush on him at the beginning but I thinks he likes men...you could still give it a try if you want 🙂"

He'd let you have a go at it at first, hoping that it'd only be a one time thing ... but you continue to tease him every. single. day. He'll try his best to avoid the subject all together, but in the end would lose it. He'd grab your shoulders and pin you up against the wall in an attempt to make you silent.

"Shut up! Just shut up, alright?! I don't want to hear it!"

He'd noticed that he'd scared you and let your shoulders go. Backing away a step while running a hand through his hair, he'd think on how to save this situation. You'd apologize for making him mad which would only cause him to sigh heavily.

"You're so stupid, Y/N. Why can't you see that I want you? My fingers ache at the need of touching you sometimes and my heart breaks at the thought of you imagining me with someone else! I don't want anyone else. I think I'm going insane! I don't want to hear you talk about other people when you're with me. I just want you to focus on me and me only. Can you do that for me?"

He'd notice how wide your eyes were and how you started pulling your arms closer to your torso. With a hiss, he'd bring you into his arms before you had the chance to run away.

"I love you", he'd whisper.

im going to be sending in two asks bc i am mentally ill. heres the first one: how would dr kry deal with a patient who is chronically ill and frequently needs surgeries? this may or may not be self indulgent because i may or may not have just gotten surgery yesterday on my silly goofy eyeball (im fine)

He'll be right by your side. He'll take care of you and give you everything you need. When you're afraid, he'll kiss your hand and give you a reassuring smile.

"I know you're scared ... I wish I could do something to help you. I wish I could steal you away from here ... but you need these operations to survive. I'm so sorry, Y/N. What can I do to help you? Do you want something to eat? Do you want me to read for you? Yeah? Absolutely, anything for you."

second ask: i literally love dr kry so hear me out 💀 how about dr kry with a patient whos just being a total cranky BRAT to him. acting up, mouthing off, just being a little twerp. (its me. im also a little twerp)

Do you want to die? He controls your body. If you're being a little brat, he'll make sure your air is even more polluted and you 'accidentally' hurt yourself.

"Your arms are broken? Oh dear, how did that happen? Well ... i guess your silly behaviour came to bite you in the butt. Well, now you have to be a little nicer to me if you want me to care for you, okay? I don't want to help an ungrateful brat. Good, let's start over."

What would Dr. Kry do if darling tried to take a lot of pills to overdose and feel independent without him?

You'd be tied to the bed :) and have no privacy :) and never be in control again :)

I just discovered your blog and i'm in love with Dr Kry 😭what would happen if reader was sensitive to loud sounds??

He'd sound proof the room and give you ear plugs. When he's talking to you, he'll use a soft spoken voice and if he gets angry, he'll try his best to keep his composure so he won't yell at you. If there were loud bangings or sounds he can't control, he'll hide with you in the bathroom where the sounds aren't as loud. You'll have your ear plugs and his hands over your ears.

"It's alright, little one, just breathe. The noises will end soon. When they end, we'll go back out into the room and we'll read a little, okay? I'll try to find out who made these awful sounds and make sure they won't do it again."

what if we actually end up living with Dr Kry??

This man would honestly take such good care of you. You'll share a big bed, have many plants and he'd show a more humane side that he can't show in the hospital. He'll smile more, love more, talk more. The constant stress of being in the hospital and having people all around who could take you away from him takes a lot of energy that he wants to project on you.

"I've baked bread! I've wanted to try for a while. How about you come with me downstairs and get a slice with some marmalade? I know your legs are weak, I'll carry you down if you'd like."

i was wondering how would reader and dr krys relationship be if reader was nurse or doctor

He'd make sure you were scheduled together so he can spend his work shifts with you. People in the hospital would think that you're a couple. Exactly as he wants. He'll buy you lunch and stay close to you on break times. If anyone asks him if you're a couple, he'll answer with something that indicates that you are.

"Y/N, do you want to go take a bit of fresh air? You've been working so well these last hours, you're well deserved of a break. Come here, let's go take a few breaths and a bit of coffee before the night shift."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere fics #yandere oc x you #yandere doctor #yandere male #yandere headcanons

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quinloki · 1 year

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Hello! Can we get Smoker, Crocodile, and Corazon with the kinks: smoking kink (like shotgunning and just the act of smoking during sex) corruption kink, and size kink! Thank you very much💝

ROSINANTE \lol/ OMG SOMEONE FINALLY ASKED ABOUT THE OTHER DONQUIXOTE <3 <3 <3

I have no issue writing about Doffy (he is a blorbo), but I was just thinking "I'd love for someone to ask about Rosi, and if I catch up and no one has, I'll ask for asks including him" - and then I got this -^_^-

(Also I've been compiling these, and we're at like 21k words xD )

Hmm.. let's do this by character. Oh I really like all these characters - I need to write some good Smoker and Corazon something at some point, they're just good characters. (Gods there is so much DILF vibe energy in this ask, I just need a second.)

Smoker:

Smoking Kink - FUCK Yes - Considering his devil fruit I think it's safe to say that there's just more Smoker can do when he's got a surplus of smoke to work with. Plus he knows you like the sound of his voice when he has cigars in his mouth. There's just something missing from it otherwise - until he takes the cigars out of his mouth and leans down low, speaking right into your ear in that low voice that seems impossibly smooth and commanding.

Unless you smoke on your own he won't shotgun you. But the scent of the cigars during sex aren't taking anything away from the experience, that's for sure.

Corruption Kink - I guess - I can see Smoker being willing to role-play corrupting you in someway, but I can't see him doing so legitimately. The vibe I get is that you would both be on similar pages when it came to how worldly you were (or weren't), and while there are several kinds of corruptions to choose from, I don't see Smoker being a V-card collector anymore than I can see him being the one teaching you about bdsm, or trying to get you to steal xD

I can see you both learning about kinky things together, but yeah. He's a little cinnamon-roll-y to me <3

Size Kink - Smoker isn't very-- *looks up his height*... short. He isn't very Short. Holy shit this man's 6'10" ?!?! Hells, I thought he was like 5'8"-5'9"... *ahem*. I'mma need a minute.

Haaaa - okay, Smoker is a Sure/Yes for size kink and I think he feels a little bad about it. People can't control their height, but he does enjoy being the bigger one in the relationship. Possibly because at his height it's hard for him to not be the bigger one, but if he met someone at his height or taller, he wouldn't just dismiss the idea of a relationship with them either. I mean, it would be nice to trade off who gets to be the big spoon.

That said, he does like being able to basically engulf you. From easily being over top you as you pant and squirm under him all the way to being able to cuddle you like you were little more than an over-sized teddy bear. (he's also got a weakness for tilting your chin up so he can kiss you, cause you always look flustered even if it's just for a split second).

Sir Crocodile:

Smoking Kink - FUCK Yes - Crocodile's cigars smell good. It's a scent that slips along your skin and soothes your nerves. It's a little citrus, warm spices, and almost a kind of hot sand smell. It's lazes in the room and no matter how much he smokes it's never overwhelming - if anything it's relaxing. (I'm not saying he's laced his cigars specifically to calm you, but I'm not not saying that either).

This man will shotgun you - after he's already got you used to his cigars, and probably has you enjoying one every now and then. He certainly smokes during sex, well, depending on the kind of sex. He's not risking burning you or setting something on fire, but if he's leaned back and letting you do the work, the air's certainly heavy with smoke.

Corruption Kink - Yes - He's not a good guy, and if you understand that from the beginning then you'll certainly get some level of respect for it. But he's more than happy to pull you into his world - whether you want to be a part of actively or not doesn't really matter to him. You don't have to become a functional part of whatever business venture is going on, but he's not going to keep things from you either. You'll sink into the sandy depths with him, but he'll keep you from drowning, so don't panic.

He is, to me, the one with the most experience in the relationship, so he'll guide you through any kink you didn't already have, while happily indulging almost any other kink you do have.

Size Kink - Sure - Crocodile is very middle ground for this. He does enjoy being larger than his partner, but that just might be because when you're as tall as he is, statistically people are going to be smaller than you. He's not against an equal or larger partner, size hardly matters in any capacity, but even less so in terms of power dynamics. He'll be in charge no matter who's bigger than who.

Plus, if he wants you to have to stretch a struggle to take him, there's several ways to make that happen regardless of whether you're bigger than him or not.

Rosinante -

Smoking Kink - No - Rosinante doesn't even like that he smokes - if for no other reason than the habit costs him a lot in replacement coats and clothes. But he's already half a nervous wreck about having a slip up in the midst of sex, he's not bringing in extra risks. The smell of those cigarettes do cling to him, and it's not unpleasant at least, so if you like the scent of him smoking you're at least not missing out on that.

Corruption Kink - Oh god you have no idea - Something about nurture vs nature, but he is a Donquixote. He wants to own you, pull you into every kink he loves and make you irrevocably his. The biggest difference between him and his brother, is that he does want your permission to do these things to you. In every aspect that he can be your first he wants to be it - no matter what it is, no matter what you've already done, he's not going to turn you away if you've already been with someone, but he'll struggle to hold himself back if you haven't.

He wants to mark you and mess you up, behind closed doors, in sessions, without shattering who you are. It's a fine line, but he's been tight-rope walking his whole life, so he's good at it.

Size Kink - FUCK Yes - He wants to be the little spoon so bad. Coming at an impressive 9'7.5" though, he's uh... he's maybe not going to get that chance unless he can come across someone who has a devil fruit power that can change his size. Or hey, if you're tall enough (OP-sona go, go!) then you can certainly fill that desire for him.

All that said, he's not going to cast you aside if you're shorter/smaller than he is. The kink only rates that high because he's resigned himself to it never being fulfilled quite the way he'd like, and he'd probably cry if it happened.

Kinky One Piece Head Canon

#kinky one piece head canon #donquixote rosinante #rosinante x reader #x reader #smoker one piece #smoker x reader #sir crocodile #sir crocodile x reader

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